Advice from Men: do they make sense after all?

I was recently given some advice from a really good friend.

Moe has known me since I was a quiet, long legged, wobbly kneed, braid sporting 8 year old. Having been my neighbour pretty much my entire life it is safe to say that he knows me relatively well. His sister, Mena, was one of my first best friends. Let me qualify that statement by saying that I've enjoyed a steady, revolving door style flow of best friends in my lifetime. From Mena to Zahra to Bebe to Sumi to Lamb (who will get a blog of her own as soon as I talk myself out of ordering a hit out on her). I do really well with "friends" but the death nail is giving somebody the title of "best friend". I'm learning to get rid of this bad teenage, friendship bracelet BFF crap.

Returning to the point of this blog, I spent a very early morning talking to Moe about the state of my love life. There's a bit of history between us since I wore out a crush on him when I was in high school. His yearbook picture could have legitimately called the cops on me for stalking. I was 16 and he was 20, and all I knew was that he was older, vehically mobile, and didn't piss me off. It made for a good combo in my mind. Well, that lasted through the 11th grade and then I was happy to relegate his status back to my friends brother. But, surprisingly, as fate and randomness would have it, he actually become one of my closest friends. I think all that maneuvering to be around him and strategically finding ways to spend time with him during the crush phase actually showed the both of us that we had a lot in common. Things worked out for the best. He would've been a great boyfriend for exactly 36 hours, but instead I got a great friend for 7 years....and counting.

Back to the advice he gave me. Now, you should understand that Moe isn't exactly the most emotional person in the world. In fact, most girls find him too laid back, cynical, uninterested, and possibly cold. The truth is, he's a no bullshit guy. No mushy lovey dovey crap. He doesn't hold your hand. He's the kind of person that gives you the "what the fuck is wrong with you?" speech and then tells you all the reasons why you shouldn't give a shit. He believes there is no need to get worked up about things, especially relationships. He's a strictly no frou frou kind of person. He tells me, after hearing a shit load of blah, blah, blah about Noel, that I only have one course of action. This may be paraphrased, but it's sure to hit the mark:

"What you need to do is build him up. Gas him up really well. You know, tell him he's good looking, and smart, and nice, and all that shit. Then, step on him like an ant. Squash his ass. He'll know who's boss after that."

Interesting. It seems the complete opposite of my current strategy of "be myself" and "don't play games", but perhaps that stuff is tired, mundane, and simply old fashioned. Truth be told, it hasn't exactly worked to my benefit with all the other losers I've had "things" with. Perhaps, a change of strategy is called for. Perhaps, being a bitch is the way to go. Hmmm, and here I thought being a nice girl was the way to get a nice guy. Fuck that. I'm squishing ants, and they won't see it coming! Thanks, Moe, for putting things into a new perspective...a mercenary perspective, but a new one nonetheless.