The Awkward Human Survival Guide

The Awkward Human Survival Guide

The Awkward Human Survival Guide answers the uncomfortable questions everyone encounters on an unfortunately regular basis and talks to people around the world who embrace the stranger side of life.

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Hosted by Adam Dachis, Darren Herczeg, Erica Elson, and Richard Cardenas.



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55: Like an Abortion at the Dentist

March 31, 2015 at 12:00AM • 1 hour 26 minutes • Wiki Entry

This awkward week we're talking about getting over an ex, flirting, and solving a dog's murder. Want to ask a question on the show? Email questions@awkwardhuman.com or call 323-456-3345 to leave us a voicemail. (Intro music issue fixed!)




Show Notes & Links Presented by CacheFly

Awkward Situation of the Week: Erica's mom gets dumped, but her ex never told her.

This Week's Questions:

  • Mattheous asks, "Hello, awkward humans. Sorry in advance for the 'English 101 Essay.' Spoiler alert: I’m not ready to date again yet. I've written in three times before (the 'sweetsome' call, when my ex first left me, and on dating). To recap, my ex-fiancée walked out on me (lied about where she was going, no hug or I love you or goodbye). She said I needed to get therapy to 'fix' my NVLD/Aspergers. According to The Complete Aspergers Handbook, therapy can't help that. Couples therapy can, but she wouldn't go. I went to therapy anyway, because I really wanted us to work. She then broke it off a month later over a misunderstanding (over fucking email no less!). Then, when I added a life event on Facebook that we broke up, she flipped out me, sent me a message on Facebook, then blocked me. Weeks later I get a message from her on Good Reads asking me 'not to bad mouth her work' (she's an author). I'm not a vengeful person, and I thought she'd know that, but apparently she thought I otherwise. We went back and forth messaging on there and decided to stay friends on Good Reads so (in her words) a 'door is open so she can communicate with me '. Then the day before Valentine's Day I log on to Good Reads and find that she has blocked me. I sent her an email to say goodbye, and a tweet too. Then the other day, I find she has blocked me on Twitter. I don't know if it was before or after the goodbye. It’s five months after she left and I'm still fucked up in the head. I was at the doctor's the other day, and the receptionist asked if I was 'single, married or divorced'. I said '... My fiancèe left me. That's why I'm here. ' and broke into sobs. Sidebar: why the fuck do they ask that? That's like a dentist putting a check box on a form weather or not you've had an abortion. I've put all her things away in a keepsake box. I've not contacted her since the Good Reads thing (and even before that, I haven't called or texted her--I'm not going to, no matter how much I miss her). I bought a new hoodie (her parents gave me one). The only thing I haven't done is finish going through my things (her parent's packed my shit, so I want to make sure all my stuff is there and my books are packed correctly). I also can't delete her contact info. I just can’t bring myself to do it. I still sob at random times, and sometimes wake up in the middle of the night because I dreamt about her, and if I see something (like kittens or her book) that reminds me of her, I lose it. I can't read books or watch stories with a love subplot. Meanwhile (according to her Good Reads when I had access to it) she's reading a fucking book called The Seven Day Fiancé and apparently doing fucking fantastic. TL; DR I'm fucked up over her. How do I get over her? I just want to move on with my life and be able to find someone else, have someone to cuddle. And holy fuck do I miss sex. Lastly, Darren: I, for one, missed you not being a co-host on Supercharged a few weeks ago. Also, just to cover all my bases and since some co-host wants people to send in pictures of themselves. I'm not anything close to someone like, say John Barrowman. But I don't think looks are my problem, if only I could get over my ex. UPDATE: She iMessaged me yesterday out of the blue (I deleted her contact info, but I recognised her email). She was worried about the nudes we both had of each other (for a long time before we had a LDR), and wanted to make sure I deleted them. I assured her I had, and told her that I thought she'd know me better than that; of course I deleted them, that was one of the first things I did when she broke the engagement. She also wanted to make sure I deleted any manuscripts (she's an author). I told her I did (double checked today; I missed a few, but I deleted them now). Then I said all the things I felt needed to be said; I apologized for the things I felt guilty for. I asked if it was ok if I kept her email (she obviously kept mine), she said that's fine--she doesn't want to be friends now, but she'll keep my contact info and she knows how to contact me. And hey, she might. But I'm not going to be in a crippling depression if she doesn't. This is the first time I've felt happy in 5 months; I finally have closure. We parted on semi-cordial terms, which is a first for me. I'm feeling much better, and E (the woman I mentioned previously on the Sweetsome episode) is helping me pick out a new wardrobe, Which is a bit...weird. But I do need new clothes. I'm starting a new chapter of my life, and I'm happy. Finally."
  • Amy (14/SF) asks, "Hi, can you tell me how I know if boys are flirting with me? They don't say I'm pretty but they talk to me a lot and smile and ask questions. Like what are the signs? I like a boy in my class. He's cute and really tall and gives good hugs. I haven't got a hug yet but I see him hug other girls. He hugs his friends, too. Anyway, he talks to me sometimes and I helped him with studying once. Do you know how I can tell if he likes me or flirts with me? I really like him and want him to be my boyfriend but not if he doesn't like me back."
  • Janet asks, "Update: Reagan is dead. (For clarity, I mean the dog.) My husband thinks I’m fuckin paranoid. Maybe I am. This shit is fuckin me up. But I’ll say what happened and you say what you think about it. Friday: Rebecca asks about Reagan. I tell her he is a piece of shit, because the truth. Rebecca tells me she shouldn’t have given me the dog and euthanized him because he’s terrible. So I ask her if she thinks we should euthanize retards and she says it’s not the same thing, but she wouldn’t rule it out. So I invite her to go to a bar and meet guys because cock is a panacea and a poison. I figure if its in her fuckin’ mouth she can’t talk so I don’t give a shit what happens. Saturday: We go to the bar. She gets hit on by a douche bag. I fend him off. I go to the bathroom. Another douche hits on her while I’m taking a piss in a squat stall. His name is Tanner. I know this becase she fucks him later and then calls me at 2:00 AM to tell me and also that he has diabetes so she wants to know if that’s a dealbreaker. (I have not mentioned this before but she does this dumb ass thing where she doesn’t understand that she controls her fuckin choices and her own life, such as dealbreakers. You make those up yourself you dumb shit! ARGH!) Two Sundays later: Rebecca comes to dinner at my house. She brings Tanner because she’s cool with diabetes now. She likes that he’s very health conscious. She likes it so goddamn much that she tells me what I can and can’t cook for dinner. Also, I don’t cook. My husband cooks. But I’m a woman so she decided that was my job. Fine. We can’t have bread or grains and she wants something with chickpeas because Tanner is very fuckin wordly apparently and heard about India once and that people eat chickpeas in India. My husband made chickpeas and quinoa salad. We thought this would be okay but it wasn’t Indian so Rebecca got pissed and then Tanner wouldn’t eat it because quinoa is a grain. Isn’t quinoa a fuckin healthy grain? It doesn’t fuck with diabetes, right? I’m right, right? But whatever. It gave him a reason to tell us all about this documentary about poverty in India and how that doesn’t preclude technology use but rather augments it in interesting ways, and how solar energy would revolutionize the entire country. And it was so goddamn frustrating because he was right but he just regurgitated a documentary and had no thoughts that were his thoughts—like his fuckin girlfriend—and he sounds like a fuckin dumbass. He talks like a bro so every word out of his stupid mouth sounds stupid anyway. I know I am angry. Sorry. It’s stress. Also we had chocolate fondue for dessert, which is relevant. Tanner didn't eat that either, but he probably went home and jizzed in his mouth so whatever. Monday morning: I find Reagan dead behind the couch in a pile of his own shit. This was really sad and freaked me out. It is not what you want to wake up to. You do not expect a dead, shit-covered dog in your living room. I am replacing the carpet. On one hand the dog was miserable so maybe it’s for the best. Maybe he’s in a better place now, like nowhere. But I also paid like $600 to get my husband’s brother out to Austin to train him. I love his brother. It was great having him around. Not so secretly I get hot seeing them together and have definitely masturbated to that threesome. But fuck, what a waste of everything. So I drop the dog at the vet’s office on the way to work in a trash bag inside an Amazon box so he didn’t fly off the car seat and smear his hard, shitty body all over. The vet said he had a heart attack and asked me if he ate anything other than his food. I said not that I know of and declined any other tests which now I regret. But the dog is getting burnt up and turned into ashes right now so I guess I can’t change my mind. Later on Monday: I do some googling about dogs and heart attacks and chocolate comes up. So everyone knows it’s bad but here’s why: theobromine raising the dog’s heart rate and it can cause a heart attack if they eat too much. The vet said they have never seen a dog that ate too much chocolate and was gonna die. But Rebecca asked to take some chocolate and fruit home and I gave her a lot because better she gets fat and not me. How do I know she didn’t feed it to Reagan and kill the little fucker? I don’t know that, is the answer. So I tell her at work that Reagan died and she just says, oh...(silence for five seconds)...do you want to get lunch later? I really want tuna. So all I got was an oh before she thought about something for five seconds and then moved on to tunafish. (We did get lunch and she wanted a tuna salad hoagie and she ate it so fast she fuckin choked three times--not literally but she had to cough it back up and then swallow again). So maybe she fed Reagan the chocolate. Maybe the dog was just fucked from the start. I don’t fuckin know. But what do you think? Am I nuts to believe Rebecca did this? Obviously she wanted to kill it. But my husband said he can’t see when she could’ve fed the dog all that chocolate. So I don’t know."
  • Anonymous (SF/22) asks, "Me: female, straight, 22 Him: male, straight, 20 I met this guy when I was actually his teacher in college. He would spend 2-3 hours every day in my office working on homework. Nothing ever happened that semester or since but I feel like there’s constant tension where we both like each other. He decided that my family would be his surrogate family while he’s at college and he comes over to our house multiple times a week. I definitely like this guy and everyone thinks we’re dating already and I’ve tried being as obvious as I can without making things weird. I feel like I’m at that point where I need to stop putting my life on hold for him because we’re both too scared of making a move and ruining the friendship (and to complicate things, my brother is living with him next year). However it’s not like I have other guys waiting for me so should I just enjoy the ride and see what happens or give up and try to pursue someone else? "
  • Omana (19/SF) asks, "Why do guys in online dating only care about girls' photos? When I talk to guys online, all of them ask me to send my photos to them. Sometimes I feel they just talk to me to send my photos to them so I refuse to send it, and they disappear. Do guys speak to girls to only send her photos? Does it really matter?"

Special Segment: Interview with hot mom of three autistic boys, Sylvia Lopez.

Final Thoughts: A plane was grounded due to smelly poo. So that can happen. (Thanks Mikey!)

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