Three Sizes Too Small.

I recently hung out with my holiday hero! Together, we were mean and discussed our smaller-than-average, cold, bitter hearts. It was a good time.

Happy Holidays!

Dear Restraining Order...

Dear Bitter Amanda,

Recent life experiences have left me with a bitterness so intense, I can taste it like yesterday's hot dog. I crave something sweeter. Like revenge. Do you have any guidelines or tips on getting even?

Best Served Cold,
Gazpacho


Dear Restraining Order,
Ahh, hell hath no fury. It warms my cold, grey heart. I can only assume you're speaking of relationship-related scorn.
(If I'm wrong, email me again and I'll get back to you. But I'd strongly advise against using the word "wrong.")
Let's see what we can do for you, sunshine.
Try to turn your problem into an amusing anecdote. ("My boyfriend broke up with me by bringing me a present! I guess they just didn't have a greeting card with the appropriate sentiment?") Yours won't be as amusing as mine, but keep that chin up. In time it will improve. (Maybe. No guarantees. You might be one of those bad storytellers.) That way you can throw it around wherever you go, which is a subtle (and quite frankly, classy) way of bringing someone down. Making him the butt of every joke lets the whole world know that he was the butt of your relationship.
There are always the tried and true standards. The Chanel suit of revenge, these tactics just don't go out of style. Making sure that any girl he gets close to knows about his unadvertised traits is a good way to ensure that he is alone. ("God, I'm so glad we're through! I don't know how many more Friday night Lord of the Rings marathons I could have taken!") While you're at it, become friends with the new ladies so that he is in a constant state of AWKWARD.
Now...there are other ways to get your revenge, but it has been advised that I not endorse any of them. So you're going to have to use your imagination. *cough*spread rumors*cough* Excuse me. Rely on your bitter instinct here. *cough*syphilis is unattractive*cough* Damn, I'll have to have that cough checked out.
Hope that satisfies your craving.
Solitarily yours,
Bitter Amanda

PS- As for guidelines, I believe there is a phrase in the popular vernacular that sums it up. Go big or go home.

Dear Awkward Button...

Ok. So after a company shindig, there was still a keg of beer left. So whats a group of twenty-somethings to do besides take it back to a coworkers house and kill it by playing some beer pong? Well, the socially awkward kid who we work with... gave me a peck on the cheek... when I went to leave. I've worked with him for years and have barely spoken to him. I don't think I've ever touched him, even a simple handshake.

What does it mean? Was it just a friendly but drunken good bye? Was he trying to make out with me and missed my mouth? Was he trying to get into my pants? I'd be ok with that, no ones tried to get into my pants for a while. Except for me, but they're my pants. If I don't get into them every morning, I can't go to work. So thats no fun. And does that mean my standards have dropped dangerously low? Am I just overthinking this way to much?

~Need to get laid, and soon


Dear Awkward Button,
Wow. That must have sucked for you. Since he's a boy, and an awkward one at that, there's no way of figuring out what his goal was. Not to mention, you didn't give me nearly enough information. I mean, what line of work are we talking about? Is awkward unusual? Are you more on the friendly-to-everyone flight attendant end of the spectrum, or more on the engineers-who-don't-know-how-to-have-regular-conversations end? Was he ignoring you all night and then randomly kissed you? Or was it something he was probably working himself up to? Was he kissing everyone? Or were you the target?

See what I mean? Not enough info.

Based on your minimal (and yes, disappointing) description, I'd just chalk it up to him getting somewhat plastered and finding the courage to not be awkward. You probably could have tried to turn it into something else, since he's a boy and they don't strike me as very picky regarding action.
And yeah, you're definitely overthinking it.
Solitarily yours,
Bitter Amanda

Dear Mrs. Fields...

Ok. So I ordered some Chinese food to be delivered to my house. Because I'm single and lonely and have no one to take me out to dinner. And the fortune cookie that came along with my meal said "This is a wonderful time in your life to look inward for answers." And its one of those fancy fortunes, which has a Chinese word on the back.

Nan pun yau. Boyfriend.

Umm, is it just me, or did the fortune cookie tell me to look inside my life, to figure out why I don't have a boyfriend? Go fuck yourself fortune cookie!! I don't need your 'advice'! Go shove your nan pun yau up your kung pao szechuan ass!
Signed,
Setting my fortune on fire


Dear Mrs. Fields,
It's a cookie. You're looking at this all wrong. (Thank God you people have me.) Eating with a boy is often a contact sport. If they're really hungry, it's like that hippo game that kids play--get your hands out of the way! Guard what you really want to eat, and kiss any leftovers goodbye. To a boy, "leftovers" are simply food that you left on your plate for him to eat. You got to eat in your pajamas if you felt like it, and you could put anything on the television. And if Chinese food makes you gassy? No matter! Nobody to censor yourself in front of! (Not that boys feel the same need to leave some aspects of life private. Since they are gross.)
Moral of the story, eat the second fortune cookie and ignore the first one. Your single life rocks.
And seriously, calm the hell down. It's a cookie.
Solitarily yours,
Bitter Amanda

Dear Keep Your Damn Pants On...

Dear Bitter Amanda:

Are you *really* that busy? Or are you suffering from a dearth of questions? I'm sure there are *some* poor saps out there that need your advice.

I need my fix, dammit!
Impatience McGee


Dear Keep Your Damn Pants On,
Oh, calm the hell down! Go find a hobby or something.
Solitarily yours,
Bitter Amanda

PS: Am still deciding how I feel about being compared to an addictive substance. Is Bitter Amanda the new crack? Thanks, I think. *ba

A note.

Why haven't I been berating any of you lately? Reality television and dating guides, my hopeless friends. Check it out and I'll see you in a week!

[For the 2nd Annual KDB Melanoma Walk...go read the link above for more information!]

Try not to disgust anyone while I'm gone--PDA kids, I'm looking at you.

Dear Julius...

Dear Bitter Amanda,
I was at a party and a guy who has been interested in me was there. He told me he was going and was excited he would see me there. I went with some friends and everything seemed to be going fine but he just kept avoiding me! I left because I thought this party was lame and I found out later that he went off dancing with the friend I showed up with! I talked to him about it and told him I was mad. He kept apologizing but I just cant shake the feeling he's using me. I also talked to my friend and she said she didn't see what was wrong with it when she knew I had feelings for him! How do I act and am I overreacting?
Betrayed By the Best


Dear Julius,
Alright, I have several points to make here, so stay close. First of all, you're not overreacting. I'm about to give you some of the most basic advice out there, courtesy of my mother. Ready?

Trust your instincts.

It doesn't always make sense, but you get that feeling for a reason. If your gut tells you he's bad news, then princess, you should listen. It's smarter than you think it is.

Second of all, boys are LAME. They consistently behave in ways that boggle the mind. They claim to be simple creatures; easy to figure out. This may be true, but first you have to put yourself in this ridiculous mindset of mixed signals and illogical moves. For example, you're a dude and you're into a girl. You see her at a party. What should you do? Ohhh, talk to her. Hang out near her. Acknowledge her general presence. And if he's really into you, he'll figure that out. Bu if he can't come up to you and hang out after being "so excited to see you," then maybe you're too good for him and should set your sights higher. Because, I repeat, boys are lame.

THIRD. Ladies, this is just ridiculous. You can't dance with your BFF's mancandy. I know, I know--"we're just friends and it didn't mean anything!" But it LOOKS like it means something, and you KNOW that. We've all been on both sides of that. And it sucks. We are better than that kind of treatment! I am so tired of seeing women treat their friends like crap at the first sign of testosterone in the area. So remember this: even if you know it doesn't mean anything, your friend might not. And nobody wants to be labeled the bitchy friend--dance with too many of your girls' crushes and that's what you'll get.

So princess, what should you do? Talk to your friend. Tell her how you felt, and if she doesn't try to understand, then you totally have my permission to spread the word that she's the bitchy friend. The guy is another story. It sounds like he has to grow up. (Like most of the male gender.) If he's really into you, he'll man up and make some time for you.
Solitarily yours,
Bitter Amanda

Dear Babysitter...

Dear Bitter Amanda,

What is the proper response to a man-child that asks for your number before he asks for your name?

-Digits


Dear Babysitter,
Well clearly your best course of action is to make him feel like the drooling, grunting caveman that he is. Allow me to model a conversation for you. Please note that depending on his level of evolution, he may or may not get that you're calling him a moron. Even if he doesn't, though, it'll hit him later as he relays it to friends, perplexed.
The Missing Link: "Can I have your number? *grunt*"
Your Royal Hotness: "Hi, I'm *insert name here*."
TML: "Huhhh?"
YRH: "Nice to meet you."
TML: "Whaaa? Number? No?"

You see what I did there? You play out the conversation as though he'd properly introduced himself first. In doing so, it's thrown him off his course, because he didn't hear any numbers. Then you can give him a phone number--check out this page. It's called The Rejection Hotline, and it's a real number you can give someone, but it leads them to a recording about how they just got hardcore turned down. I've never used it, but it sounds like good fun!
Best of luck, buttercup.
Solitarily yours,
Bitter Amanda

Dear HUGE MISTAKE...

Dear Bitter Amanda,

I am in grave danger of engaging in PDA. HELP!!

-Terribly Tempted


Dear HUGE MISTAKE,
Nooooooooooo!!!!!!!!!!!! STEP AWAY FROM THE OTHER PERSON! Just say no! Unless you are getting married and the PDA you're referring to is a kiss at the altar, there is absolutely no excuse for PDA.

SYPHILIS!

Get out of there, Eve.
Solitarily yours,
Bitter Amanda

Dear Clarabelle...

Dear Bitter Amanda--
While struggling to engage my dearest in a game of footsie, I started to wonder why boys always make the girl do all the work. It seems more often than not they sit there like disinterested cows while the girl struggles to charm the pants off the boy in question with her flirtations and feminine wiles. After a few days/weeks/months of batting your freaking eyelashes to an ignorant bovine stare, you start feeling like a whore. What gives? And what can be done?

50 Winks and No Bed


Dear Clarabelle,
What gives, you ask? Boys are stupid. That's what gives. They don't put in the effort required to make women recognize when they are trying, so they clearly cannot see when someone does. It's either that, or they DO know and are playing some pathetic game of "how long WILL she bat her eyelashes my way?" to feel better about themselves and boost their precious ego. (Sidenote, boys: If you are, you need to stop right now. Because we're very Twisted Sister about this issue, and if you're messing with our heads we are not going to take it anymore. You'll miss out entirely.)
Sadly, most guys are clueless , oblivious messes when it comes to your attention. They don't do subtle and they can't understand it. You're going to have to either set your sights higher or make your attraction more obvious. I'm talking about in his face, "I WANT TO KISS YOU" obvious. And girl double-talk confuses them, so try to avoid that. You can't say, "I like you. I mean, I LIKE YOU like you." He'll just look lost, scratch his head/balls/both, order another beer, and ogle some other woman. Use small, common words and simple sentence structure. Remember who you're dealing with, after all. It's not ideal, but at least he'll finally understand.
Solitarily yours,
Bitter Amanda

Dear Cloudy...

Dear Bitter Amanda,
My case might be a bit particular but my question is pretty universal. After recently ending (not in a good way) a long-term and often long-distance relationship and spending a year abroad during which my parents moved across the country, I will spend my summer living at home and working in Denver. In short, the forecast for my summer is heavy loneliness with a chance of culture shock. I would really like to make some friends, preferably of the male persuasion, but I am completely lost as to how to go about doing that after not being single for the past 4 years, not being in the US for the past 10 months, and never being to Denver ever! Do you have any tips on how to meet people? How to avoid too much parent-time? Any good summer airline deals so I can visit my friends around the country?
Merci,
The Lone Ranger


Dear Cloudy,
I freaking wish I knew about good airline deals! The few people who can tolerate my attitude for long periods of time are scattered around the country/world.
Summer is quickly coming to an end, so I have managed to dodge the too much parent-time question. Hooray for me! And once again, my extreme procrastination has yielded positive results. (In fairness, I did warn readers that I would be away. But you all have lots of issues, so it couldn't be avoided.)
Meeting people is tough. Meeting boys is even harder, unless your standard for male companionship is quite low. If that's the case, dollface, head to your local bar! Any bar will do! Please be prepared to discuss the finer points of Transformers and your position on beer pong vs. beirut. If you're looking for something more, then I'm out. I have no idea where the nice ones are hiding. I can't imagine they've formed some sort of underground society, but it's entirely possible...since they are nowhere to be found. As for friends, go sit somewhere public and either play Solitaire or do a Sudoku puzzle. I've never been able to do either without someone over my shoulder wanting to help. (Which, by the way, family and friends, is SUPER AWESOME OF YOU. Really. I mean that.) (Oh, wait. No, I do not. Alone time is alone time, dammit.)
Solitarily yours,
Bitter Amanda

Dear Contestant...

Dear Bitter Amanda,
I was recently dumped by my boyfriend of two and a half years. And to be honest, I still haven't figured out why. He called me up one night, we chatted for 10 minutes, and he asked if he could come over. Since he goes to school an hour away, this was an unexpected visit, and I was happy. And he brought me a gift, and I was very happy. And then he dumped me, and I was fucking pissed. He thought that "things might go downhill later" and didn't want it to get ugly. He refused to fully explain himself. So the question is...what kind of a douchebag brings a present when they break up with someone??
Dumped in the D


Dear Contestant,
Thanks for playing our game! Nothing shouts true love like "parting gift." You sure had yourself a winner, pumpkin. Normally, I'd suggest that he was cheating and that you should go all Carrie Underwood on his ass. But here's my theory--he's not very bright. Doesn't strike me as very charming--so I'm not sure he sounds like the kind of guy who could juggle two women at once--that requires a certain amount of skill. And the man who brings a present doesn't really have any.
Since this is by far one of the most absurd break-up stories I've heard, I have compiled a list of the worst. Please note that these are not set in stone, and I am willing to amend the list at any given time. I now present...

Bitter Amanda's Top 5 Lamest Break-Ups

1. Flavor of Love, Season Two. He brought New York back a second time, only to dump her AGAIN. On national television. That's cold, Flav.

2. Rory, Gilmore Girls. Please follow this link-----> HERE to find out what I mean. My BFF will kill me if I ruin anything for her. A girl has to have priorities.

3. Legally Blonde. He lets her get all excited for the big night, new dress and all. Takes her somewhere nice. When she's expecting him to pop the question, he drops the DUMPED bomb on her, and then has the nerve to tell her it's because she's not very smart. Classy.

4. Carrie and Berger, Sex and the City. The infamous Post-It note. Not even a real letter. Just a sticky yellow piece of paper.

5. This reader and her ridiculously stupid ex-boyfriend, the bringer of presents you'll never want to look at again. "What a lovely necklace**! Where did you get it?" "Oh, you know, Buttface brought it for me when he decided he didn't love me anymore. Sparkly!"

Again, these are negotiable. But you'll have to prove that you deserve to be on the list!
Anyway, pumpkin, I'd say you're better off without such a loser tagging along.
Solitarily yours,
Bitter Amanda

**It should be noted for readers that the nature of the consolation prize was not mentioned.

Update!

Don't call me, I'll call you.

Solitarily yours,
Bitter Amanda

Dear Chesty...

Dear Bitter Amanda,
This is not a common problem, and most women would not be complaining, but my breasts recently got noticeably bigger! I was put on the Pill, not because of sexual activity (unfortunately), and ever since, my boobs just inflated!! However, I'm not really sure what to do with them? It's actually quite awkward. Help?!
Fondly,
Busty


Dear Chesty,
When I first read your letter, I was going to tell you to stop bragging. But it felt wrong. Because what you're going through is a pain in the ass. I dealt with that a couple years ago, when my friends told me that there was "no way possible" I was the size I claimed. (Thanks for that.) Replacing bras is expensive! That's the most obnoxious problem. You can't exactly trade them all in--though how amazing would that program be? I haven't quite hammered all the details out just yet--but one day, kids. One day.
Until I come up with that Bra Exchange Extravaganza, all I can tell you is use what you've got. Show the girls off (tastefully, Britney...) and try and score some free drinks or something! I hear breasts can be powerful in that way. Men are pigs. Take advantage of that!
Solitarily yours,
Bitter Amanda

Dear Wolfgang...

Dear Bitter Amanda,

Ok, serious question, Miss Bitters:

Why is it that when a girl re-acquires a single status, everyone and her mother thinks she wants to be set up on a blind date?

Personally, I'm enjoying the me-by-myself time (finally!) and I don't really want to spoil it by getting un-single again. And yes, all the people who offer up their single friends to me happen to be coupled for life already. And yes, the goal of their evil blind date plot is to make me coupled for life as well.

What gives?

-Lone Wolf, Going It Alone (And Liking It!)


Dear Wolfgang,
Well done you, for recognizing the coupling plot! That's really the issue here; that couples don't like to see friends who are single and having more fun. It's a jealousy issue. I mean, you have got it really good right now. You can talk to anyone you want without someone getting jealous and territorial. You never have to worry that your date is going to wear something hideous and you'll have to dress him (ok, or her, but let's be honest) like he's a toddler! Major holidays? You don't have to divvy those up between two families. Your life is pretty great.
They're probably thinking more about themselves here. If they find you a mate, maybe you'll stop having cocktail parties to which no one is allowed to bring a date. Maybe they can bring the boyfriend/girlfriend to social outings without you being rude! Perhaps they can finally invite you to their secret couple dinner parties without you making gagging noises all evening because you're the odd numbered guest.

...I'm not saying I've had any personal experience with that. I'm just saying that might be what they're thinking. That's all. Ignore them, though. You just keep enjoying your single life, princess.
Solitarily yours,
Bitter Amanda

Dear Highlights...

Dear Bitter Amanda,
Recently my choice of reading materials have been reduced to trashy romance novels and my favorite activity is highlighting pages with sex in them. Is this wrong? Should I be ashamed or can I continue to enjoy phrases such as “turgid nipple” and “letting the quick release pour through her like liquid fire” without fear of moral damnation? Is it wrong to live my life through gorgeous computer hackers and slick F.B.I. agents and stunning lounge singers and private investigators? Please help me!
Faithfully yours,
Hopelessly literate


Dear Highlights,
Moral damnation? Do I strike you as the kind of lady who worries about moral damnation? No. I guess I should make one thing clear for everyone: Bitter Amanda is not anti-sex. If you like to get your fill of all things sexual through books, then go to it. I'm also pro-reading, so I guess this is something I should endorse. At least the men in those books aren't complete let-downs, unlike the men in real life. Who are generally known to be assface losers.
As a sidenote, though, I should point out that boasting about your books might be a bad idea. Just because...you know...it's kind of pathetic.
Solitarily yours,
Bitter Amanda

Dear Paranoid...

Dear Bitter Amanda,
I have a brand new coworker who sits in the cubicle across from mine. Lets call him "ThePimp". Mid twenties, tall, outgoing, the ladies find him attractive. Very, very attractive. Maybe its the fact we're an engineering firm, and most of the men around are nerdy, anti-social, old and balding. But every five minutes another administrative assistant is coming by to say hi, see if there's anything he needs, offer to show him around, flirt to the point I want to gag, etc. Its almost like one of those Axe commercials, where the guy puts on deodorant and suddenly women are all over him. The only reason my engineer coworkers aren't drooling over him is because they're mostly men. Or lesbians. The point is, if I hear another girl giggle flirtatiously I will kill someone. How do I get the ladies to stop dropping by "ThePimp's" office? Is there a spray that will turn the ladies away? For an Anti-Axe effect? Or do I need to set his cubicle on fire so he can find somewhere else to sit? What is a bitter engineer supposed to do?!
~Anti Social at Work


Dear Paranoid,
Overreacting, much? These young women are just trying to be helpful, I'm sure. I'm sure it has nothing to do with him being attractive and social, standing out in a building full of engineers. (Sorry, engineers, but I know lots of you. I speak from experience.) They did the same for you when you were new, didn't they?

No?

Oh. Whores. Here are your two options. It really depends on which side you're on; that of the pathetic women just trying to get a date, or that of your fellow engineer who can't help it if he's so beautiful that women just fall all over him. (Gag.) If it's the first, you could spread rumors about him. See my previous column here for some ideas. Then the ladies in the office won't be in such a rush to chat with him. OR, if you're on the other side of the fence, with him, then you're going to have to invoke some mean girl tactics. Start hanging out with him. Find out how he feels about the attention. If he's like, "I am so awesome and the ladies just love me and it's so cool grunting noise grahhh," then stop hanging out immediately and go back to the first option. However, if he's feeling trapped by perfume and giggles, you can bond. This will be the equivalent of you peeing in his cubicle--even in a non-romantic way, mark him as your territory.
I'm not sure why I keep referencing animal behavior. But thanks for noticing.
Solitarily yours,
Bitter Amanda

Dear Hopeless Readers...

Dear Bitter Amanda,
What happened to the sweet, man loving sex machine that we all loved and adored in Ireland. Has life out of college really driven you to such an extreme? What can I do to avoid the same fate, to say nay to chocolate as a chemical substitute for the female?I hope the real Amanda (if she is still in there) only booked one ticket to Ireland and left the bitter variety at home.
Mark


Dear Hopeless Readers,
While you can't believe every accusation printed about celebrities, a small portion of the above letter is true. I am going to Ireland, and will be gone for the next 10 days. It's time for a vacation. Mark, I'm always the Real Amanda...while I only booked one ticket, you never know when Bitter Amanda will rear her bitter head. It's an adventure!
So, kids, you'll have to manage without me for a bit. I'll answer the rest of your sad letters when I get home.
Solitarily yours,
Bitter Amanda

Dear Gassy...

Dear Bitter Amanda,
I am currently studying abroad in Paris and I have noticed that the French rules on PDA are quite different from America. In the states, holding hands is often where the line is drawn, whereas I have seen several French couples unabashedly making out all over the place! This includes the metro, street corners, restaurants, parks, need I continue? In exercising my bitterness, I've started making little fart sounds when I walk by, hoping to break the ambiance and make one if not both of them slightly confused and disgusted. Is this impolite? Do you have a better suggestion? How would you deal with your bitterness in these situations?
Yours truly,
tiny fart


Dear Gassy,
Impolite? Is making farting noises at happy couples impolite? YES! Of course it is! There are few things less sexy than farting. So naturally, I must applaud you! I approve! We should go eat ice cream together!
I cannot improve upon your methods; only teach you some of mine to expand your arsenal. Shouting out inappropriate/unsexy things such as 'syphilis' is always a classic. Gagging noises are a subtle and classy way to let the amorous couple know that their display is unappreciated. And if you're not looking for subtlety, throw things. Small things, mind you. (Lawsuits blah blah blah.)
You keep fighting the good fight, champ.
Solitarily yours,
Bitter Amanda

Dear Haylie Duff...

Dear Bitter Amanda,
My little sister - and by little I mean 23 yrs old- just moved back home after living for a year overseas. I'm so happy to have her around! But she's been home for maybe three days, and she already has a date! I've lived here for three YEARS without so much as a hey-you-wanna-grab-a-cup-of-coffee-?. What gives?
Signed, Big Sis


Dear Haylie Duff,
Little sisters often forget the pecking order when it comes to dating. Sure, it looks glamorous, but you wait for your older sister to get some before you go out looking for it! It's the natural way of things, dammit.
Practice slipping the following sentences into casual conversation. "*Little Sister* is quite graceful, considering she has a peg leg. Like Captain Hook, that one..." "Yeah, *Little Sister* has such a lovely face...you'd never guess it's not the one she was born with. " Or, the vague, "*Sigh.* It's too bad about *Little Sister*..." You can also customize a flyer like the one below, for additional help.
Then, go out in public with her frequently. You'll just look that much hotter. Because nobody thinks a rabid raccoon mauled YOUR face.
Solitarily yours,
Bitter Amanda

PS- Boys are notoriously lame about asking girls out. And about everything else in life, other than like...making inappropriate remarks and getting the high score on their Wii. Don't take it personally.

Dear Flavorless...

Dear Bitter Amanda,
I have been left on national television three times. Yes, you read that correctly: three times. THRREEEEEEEEEE TIMMMMMMMMEEEEES. I'm becoming bitter. What should I do?
-Not everyone loves New York


Dear Flavorless,
Wow. So much to say, so little time...
First of all, princess, start by getting your ass off national television. If an animal runs into an electric fence once, you can bet they won't run at it again--three times. Dating reality shows are your own personal electric fence. Learn the lesson!
Second, surround yourself with a higher caliber of men. I know, this may seem like an impossible feat. But you have got some bad taste. Stop going after the same kind of man repeatedly--again, it's like that damned electric fence!
Learn the lessons.
Solitarily yours,
Bitter Amanda

Dear Self One Year Ago...

Dear Bitter Amanda,
I'm a listless loser--jobless and pointless--living in a suburb known for its uncanny ability to suck people in like a black hole and keep them there until one day they wake up with bed sores on their asses and tears in their eyes. Anyway, I need to know the secret code for escape from such a place. How am I, someone without resources, to break free from this mindnumbingly boring place without afixing jumper cables to my ears and turning the engine over???
Braindead in Boringville


Dear Self One Year Ago,
I did not think Bitter Amanda of the Past could send letters to Bitter Amanda of the Present. Since this is just not possible (and if it is, it's just freaking weird...and I am in no mood to be inspiration for the next sci-fi thriller) I can only assume that you are perhaps a recent college grad? And that maybe things aren't turning out quite the way your commencement speaker made it sound? They are, I've figured out, notorious liars.
"The whole world is at your doorstep. You can do anything you want. You are on the brink of the best years of your life!" All that crap. What they should be saying is, "The whole world is at the doorstep of your parent's house, where you will live until you can afford to leave. You can do anything you want, as long as you want to do some part-time work that isn't necessarily related to your degree, because that booming economy you hear about sometimes? Is nowhere near where you live. You are on the brink of leaving the best years of your life, since nothing will ever be as much fun or as interesting as college."
Damn, I'd write a good speech. But the answer you're looking for? Not so much. Find something that amuses you, even if it's...oh, say...making fun of people. Then at least you'll have one bright spot in your day.
Good luck, champ.
Solitarily yours,
Bitter Amanda

Dear Braggart...

Dear Bitter Amanda,
My girlfriend hogs the bed every night and every time I try to move her she's like dead weight. I've tried talking to her about this but it never seems to help. WHAT DO I DO?
-Tired and Squished.


Dear Braggart,
Oh, poooooor you. "I have someone to sleep with every single night but that's just not good enough for me!" Blah blah blah.
I'll tell you what you do, precious. You go to bed first and pretend like she's an attacking bear. Make yourself as large as possible to scare her away. I'm not an expert on animals, but I think the method for cougars is also applicable here...throw things at her. Or, if you don't want anyone to make a call to the police about a domestic dispute, you could treat her like a raccoon taking up residence in your home. Leave a window or door open and she should find her way out by morning.
I know your lady isn't a wild animal (ok, I hope your lady isn't a wild animal...) but I think these ought to do the trick. Good thing my dad used to teach me about outdoor safety in northern Michigan!
Solitarily yours,
Bitter Amanda

Dear Marty Stouffer...

Dear Bitter Amanda,
What happens to the poor love-sick swan when she discovers that her true love is just a heap of plywood and plastic?
The guy who designed the boat should be shot--poor innocent water fowl.
xoxo, Wildlife Enthusiast


Dear Marty Stouffer,
That is lame! What kind of loser does that? I'll tell you. A man. There is no other explanation. I'd like to agree with you on his fate, but I probably shouldn't encourage serious crimes here. Instead, I'll say that he should be presented with many beautiful women, only to discover that they're life-sized dolls. With Barbie-style lower halves. HA! Sucks to be that guy.
Solitarily yours,
Bitter Amanda

Sidenote.

I have some letters to post later, but for now, go check out the latest post on my other blog. It's important!
Solitarily yours,
Bitter Amanda

Dear Sleeping Beauty...

Dear Bitter Amanda,
So I've been busy and stressed out lately - working until 6, 7, and even 9:30. I haven't even had time to call or email my friends. (Admittedly, that's ridiculous, and I'm a bit of an ass for not even tipping my hat in their vague directions.) But back to me... last night, I went to sleep late again, and all I wanted was a few hours of blissful sleep and maybe a nice dream or two. Well, let me tell you, what I got was a doozie about all of the losers I've ever "dated". How do I kick my subconscious in the ass?
Yours truly,
The Nightmare Queen


Dear Sleeping Beauty,
If your friends are remotely awesome, and something tells me that they are, they will understand that work is a bitch. At least you’re not ignoring them in favor of some fling. Because, as we are all aware, that is a despicable, obnoxious habit. And I would tell you (in a beat of my withered, hardened heart) if you were doing that.
I’ve kept your letter at the top of my pile for a few days now, hoping some wisdom would come to me. No such luck. So, because I hate to keep you waiting for so long, I will use my college essay method and fake it.
Try to clear your head before you sleep, sunshine. Something mindless. I like puzzles or catching up on my celebrity gossip. (Shut up.) Drink some cocoa. (Because I feel somewhat incomplete when I give advice without mentioning chocolate.)
And if you happen to figure out a foolproof way to get losers out of your head, please let me know. We can write a book and split the profits.
Solitarily yours,
Bitter Amanda

Dear Abby...

Dear Bitter Amanda,
Lately i have been the go to advice girl for all of my friends in relationships. They come to me and ask for help, for thing like gift ideas, and romance advice, all the while they are reminding me that i am single. They don't seem to understand that being single is not something i want to be reminded of every day. I haven't got the heart to tell them to bugger off. What do you think i should do?
~the timid teller


Dear Abby,
So with you on this. I think it's just another way for couples to gloat to single people. A thinly veiled excuse to flaunt their happiness. Because honestly, what would make a person automatically assume that a single lady has all the dating answers? It's just bad logic. Like I said, they're bragging.
If you're looking to quietly back away from your role as Advice Girl, might I suggest pointing people towards an expert? Or me? I'm just...you know...saying.
If subtle hints don't work out, you may have to practice the following. "Leave me alone! I don't give a damn! Ask someone who cares! I'M ALONE!" I've found that the last part can work wonders in many different situations, as well.
Good luck, kiddo.
Solitarily yours,
Bitter Amanda

Dear Blondie...

Dear Bitter Amanda,
Someone at work had flowers delivered today from her S.O. I retreated to my cubicle where I gagged in horror. Not to mention, I made blondies and brought them to work today... sugar-replacement therapy, you know. I totally should have labeled them: for singles only. I had better go snag me one before all of the coupled people eat them all. Greedy bastards.
Yours,
Kicking myself


Dear Blondie,
I hope you received my emergency "Go eat them all ASAP!" message. It truly is greedy of coupled coworkers to think V-Day treats are them them. Go back to your cubicle and eat the chocolates from your Valentine! Soak up the obnoxious fumes from your "I'm too special to get my flowers at home" flowers!
I hope you survived the office Valentine's Day!
Solitarily yours,
Bitter Amanda

Advice Break...

Try to enjoy your Wednesday in peace, kids!!

So, once again it's Valentine's Day. Please enjoy my hand-crafted Valentine, just for you, my favorite readers. And then, go do whatever you have to to get through this anti-single, despicable excuse for a holiday. As for me, I'll be spending my day doing any number of the following: shouting obscenities at VDay themed television shows, movies, or commercials, eating my bodyweight in pity candy from my father and these delicious treats that my siblings force our mother to make whenever we possibly can, and watching non-romantic DVDs, such as School of Rock and Jackass: The Movie.

See you all on Thursday!

Dear Cupid...

Dear Bitter Amanda,
I am cleaning out my house and came across this most disturbing image of The Day, written to my high-school sweetie and future ex-wife sometime in 11th or 12th grade. Other than that One Thing, what in the world could I have been thinking? I mean really! I'll be spending the rest of the evening cleaning up my vomit and asking myself "Why?" Anyway, I feel like I needed to share this with someone, finally, and somehow be purged ... in addition to the biffage and hurlage.


Dear Cupid,
You'll notice I blocked out the names. It's not because I care whether or not you remain anonymous, really. It's because I was so horrified that someone actually wrote that note that I don't want to be associated with you. You did the right thing by sending it to me, though. Valentine's Day is a detestable occasion, and you've given me a great excuse to write that very sentiment. Thanks. Now, I am so glad you see the error of your former ways. I would issue some sort of encouraging remark, like "rock on" or whatever the kids are saying these days, but quite frankly it wouldn't make me feel good about myself. So you'll have to encourage yourself, champ.
Solitarily yours,
Bitter Amanda

Dear Vince Vaughn...

Dear Bitter Amanda,

I am a true wedding crasher. I arrive at weddings before they begin, and try to get either the bride or groom alone to ask if they have truly considered the consequences of the actions they are about to take. Unfortunately, I’ve been banned from every church, synagogue, and wedding hall in the area. How can I convince these institutions that I provide an essential public service which can possibly save couples enormous amounts of time and money in the future when they realize the errors of their ways and want to divorce?

~Just trying to help in CT


Dear Vince Vaughn,
Tough break! Those bastards in charge of joining couples for all eternity (ish) are just in it for the money! Obviously if they’re banning you, they see you as a threat, which tells me that they agree with your goals in some small, hidden way. And you know what that means! Their spirits can be broken. Like the parent of a child in the middle of a toy store, asking over and over and over for a new toy, you can wear these people down, champ! Just keep up with what you’re doing, and eventually they’ll be so exhausted from the fight that they’ll give in.
Solitarily yours,
Bitter Amanda

Dear Sir Thomas Moore...

Dear Bitter Amanda,

I have a new mission in life. My goal is to make all the happy couples in the world as bitter and jaded about relationships as I am. How would you recommend starting this monumental task?

~On a Quest


Dear Sir Thomas Moore,
Wow. I read your letter, and picturing the utopia you described brought tears to my eyes. What a beautiful sentiment. I can’t even move past the visions of single, cynical, solitary little sugarplums dancing in my head to a symphony of bitterness. It’s like you read my mind and learned exactly what I imagine heaven to be. Minus the rivers of flowing hot fudge, anyway.
However, it is a massive undertaking. But I respect your ambition and you definitely have the right attitude! I think your best bet is to strike from a few different angles. Off the top of my head, I’m going to suggest recruiting help. Sure, St. Nicholas is the top guy, but would he be able to spread Christmas cheer without his helper elves? No, he would not. And you, St. Singleness, cannot send packages of bitterness down the chimneys of couples without some assistance. So get the word out there! (Might I suggest writing an advice column?...) After that, you could take my other advice.
Keep fighting the good fight!
Solitarily yours,
Bitter Amanda

Dear Wisteria Lane...

Dear Bitter Amanda,

Have you ever been in the following situation? You meet someone for the first time, and you're making polite introductory conversation. And then THAT question comes up. The "Are you seeing anyone" question. And when you reply "No, I'm single" they give you a sad pitying look, which is followed by an awkward silence, and then an offer of "well, I know some single people I can try to set you up with..." You later find out that the single people they were referring to are single for a reason (you know; crazy, fugly, criminal record, obsessed with Yanni, etc.) What would be a good response to the "are you seeing anyone question" that will make it clear that I am not desperate enough to want to date their high-school dropout, flea-infected, eleven-fingered younger brother when the only thing we have in common is that we're single??

~Not desperate


Dear Wisteria Lane,
I loathe that question! People in relationships are WAY too comfortable throwing it around. It's basically like asking, "Are you as happy as I am?" The ONLY time that question is appropriate is if you are chatting with someone you are interested in dating. Period. Other than that, it is just not acceptable.
So, my happily single friend, here's how to avoid any pitying looks (from condescending couples) AND blind dates with the bottom of the barrel. Always answer, "Are you seeing anyone?" with "Oh...I'm sorry, you're not really my type." UNLESS, of course, they're using the question appropriately. Then it's your call, pumpkin.
Solitarily yours,
Bitter Amanda