He's just not that into you babe.

This is, by far, one of the most under rated, yet fantastic films I have ever watched. And the book is even better. (The book is currently being passed about my friends everytime one of us goes through a particularly horrific break up, which more often than not, is every four months or so). Now, I'm not saying all the stories in this book are true, or even that we can use all of them and relate them back to our own lives. But the truth still stands, this book is basically the easiest way to understand a man, without having to actually deal with listening to one. ("Grunt grunt footy, FIFA, grunt grunt" springs to mind).

I'm saying now, there will be spoilers. If you haven't watched it, and don't want any spoilers, then stop fucking reading. There. I've told you now. Stop being such mard arses about it.

Basically, the film follows the lives of women in New York - all intelligent, beautiful women. One of them is Jennifer Anniston for fucks sake - who are struggling to deal with the fact that they are not the exceptions to the rule. These rules range from; he's just not that into you if... He's not marrying you, to he's just not that into you if... He doesn't call. Now we can all relate to one of the stories, believe me. I thought I knew everything there was to know about the "game" - as in 'don't hate the playa babe, hate the game' cringe. - but I watched this film, and read the book, and was astounded by how many times I have let fellas get away with shit because their feelings some how came before my own. Which, when you put it like that, is fucking ridiculous mate.

The amount of times I have made excuses for a fella, oh he hasn't text me, probably busy. Oh, he cancelled plans? Probably got a lot of work on. When the truth be told; he just wasn't that into me. AND THAT IS FINE.

Why spend hours, days, weeks, maybe even months, pining for someone who doesn't even have the balls to tell you that although you are a completely terrific person, you are not the exception to the rule. Forget the bullshit "you deserve better" or "it's not you, it's me" (if someone EVER says that to me I will cut off their penis, hand it to them, and politely tell hem to go fuck themselves. Probably not. But you get the picture). The thing is, as the book and film both point out, rather bluntly, may I add, men are scared. They would rather give you some sort of vague minuscule hope of anything becoming a something than tell you straight. And believe me, I understand why. We are an intimidating breed. But we are not always irrational, and let's be honest here princesses, how much easier is it to get over someone when you, and all of your besties have agreed, that he is a bastard? So much easier. And if you say it's not then you're a liar. A liar and a scoundrel. 

Look, I know, honestly, I get it. To take a small bit of something is better than a whole lot of nothing, right? Wrong. Why are we settling, fantasising, romanticising, men? This is not Romeo and Juliet and you are Carrie from sex and the city. Your Mr. Big isn't going to be your ex who swoops back onto your life once or twice for a quick hello. And like the book says, just because you've heard that your best friends sisters aunties mate broke up with HER boyfriend for two years and then they bumped into each other and fell madly back in love, it does not mean that it will happen to you. You are not your best friends sisters aunties mate. You are you. A fantastically wonderful, beautiful human being - who happens to have the ability to bleed for seven days and not die, and REPRODUCE. We deserve fucking medals for living on a month to month basis for fuck sake, not some hope that maybe one day, we will be the exception to a rule. 

This doesn't mean you're going to be single forever, doesn't even mean you'll be single for another year. But I hope you princesses out there realise that you are fabulous. You hold out for the big romantic gestures, but don't pin your hopes on them. Life, and love, is what happens when you're busy making other plans. When one door closes, another one opens. But just because you get bored of waiting doesn't mean you should jump out a window.

And if he's just not that into you (at the risk of sounding like my mother) I am just not that into him. Bastard.