The Women That Women Hate.


Before I get more accusations that I’m a man-hater, let me write another post about how annoying women are. (Wait, am I going to be called a woman-basher next?) Let this be gospel: I love men and women! And dogs! And carbs!

This post is an extension of Girlfriends and how unpleasant we can be to own gender. Sisterhood, my ass.

The Blabbering Bitch

We all have that friend who gets a little bit too drunk and will feel it’s completely ok to open the Pandora’s Box of YOUR past indiscretions, stupid stories and innermost feelings to everyone at the table, while you try to nervously giggle it off and wipe up the cocktail she just spilled all over you. Trying to get her to stop talking will only make you look extremely defensive. I prefer giving a swift kick under the table. I have also handed a friend her purse before and told her, “You need to go home now, you’re done.”

The Relationship-Fail Rooter

Once a group of single girls have been friends for a while, a sort of group think develops. We commiserate about lonely nights, shitty men and PMS bloat. And then, quelle horreur, one of the single girls deigns to get a boyfriend. Energy shifts and the passive-aggresive girlfriend starts to poke holes in the stories. “He cooked for you? Why? He can’t afford to take you out?” “You have great sex, oh my, he must have been a player before” “You mean you haven’t even met his friends yet?”. Female friends are a pressure cooker for burgeoning relationships, always keep them separate.

The Wardrobe Watcher

There’s always that one girl that pays a little too much attention to what you wear. Which is all well and good, but combined with bitterness, usually presents itself as “Hey, didn’t you wear that dress last time?”. Like, what the hell? Are you Joan Rivers now? Usually, that girl has somewhat of a questionable wardrobe herself.

The Thunder Thief

The girl that loves to interrupt you and steal your thunder and attention when you have people so rapt. She’s basically the girl that will fight for air-time until you back down and she’s Queen of All Conversation. She will settle down for a bit after that, but once you open your mouth to speak again, my god, does she have a better story than you.

The Inception

I am unsure about the motivation of The Inception, but she’s that girl who says, “I was just going to say that!” after almost every good idea/joke that you come up with. Sometimes, she will insert herself into your story that she’s heard before and you’ll be looking at her, thinking, “Bitch, you weren’t even there!”.

The Debbie Downer

Nothing new here, but seriously women, if you are so consumed by how sad your life is, can you please go on a retreat to make it better and then rejoin the group who are having a nice Friday night out? I give allowances to moments of melancholia, because lord knows even I have them, but allow the enthusiasm of your friends to infect you, and not the other way round.

The Conceited Celebrant

Then there’s the girl whose every milestone in life is the celebration of HER. The girl that has about 5 events for her birthday (including at least one overseas trip) and even worse, the girl who’s about to get married. She will have an engagement party, about 3 bridal showers and 1 hens overseas trip finally culminating in a destination wedding. All in all, you can become quite broke being this girl’s friend, because the chances that she will actually foot the bill for anything is slim to none. Genuinely popular girls are the ones who are nice about it and reciprocate in some way. The more self-absorbed ones will find the RSVP numbers dwindling as days go by. The Summer Of You, is over but at least you’re getting married, which means there is someone out there legally bound to enjoy your company.

The Unpunctual Princess

While I will attest to not always being on time, it is usually off by about a maximum of 10 minutes, during which I apologise and maintain contact with the person I’m supposed to meet with an ETA. In the grand cliche of double standards, I loathe waiting for people. I am completely ok waiting for them in a cafe, mall or bar, but if I have to stand somewhere and wait for them for 20 minutes, I literally lose my mind especially when they don’t respond to texts or calls. It’s a disgusting habit and I will make no attempt to cover up my displeasure.

The Dependent Damsel

Ok, when I make new girlfriends, one of my criteria is: Can they be alone for a while / go to the bathroom alone? There is nothing more annoying than a friend who insists that you need to follow her to the bathroom, or goes with you so she doesn’t have to sit at the bar alone. Contrary to popular male belief, we don’t all have to go together. And if you drag me to the bathroom with you, you better have some damn good gossip for me.



I love you, women. And I love you even more, crazy women. If you have any evidence that proves I’ve been any of these types of women, please keep it to yourself.

* Thanks to A for suggesting this post. And for correcting my English. And for in no way, asking me to add that second part.

4 Replies to “The Women That Women Hate.”

  1. Hmm… none of the above?! LOL, probably being less than punctual sometimes, usually when I send an “on the way” text, it means, I should be leaving my house in about 5 minutes.

  2. Dependent Damsel? Why lah want girls to follow other girls to jamban. Toilet is a solitary lounge experience for me. Time to sit down and space out from all the magic potion dranks. I try to avoid mirrors where possible and wear baseball caps if I am sober enough at a public toilet to notice my face. And I often conduct experiments to see how long I can get my leg hair to grow. This is probably why I have never been approved clique material.

    Anyway, this journey of human relationships never ceases to amaze. I think cliques tend to have too much politics. Time with cliques rarely result in strength of real friendship, because everyone is wearing a mask.

    So I started believing in hanging out with just one other person, maximum two. And always an open door policy.

    But then trouble happens when you meet their cliques. And suddenly everyone is bitching about everyone else. To which I wonder what is the point and hide under my dustbin. Which usually results in not getting invited to the Conceited Celebrant’s fun clique activities and parties or destination weddings.

    But at least none of the said clique getting close enough to notice that my bras are all the same. Hahaha.

    But it’s ok. In the wise words of Kurt Cobain:

    Come, as you are, are you were, as a friend, as an old enemy. Take your time, hurry up, choice is yours, don’t be late.


  3. But I can’t help but admire cliques from afar to be fair. They are a majestic bunch. I noticed many around me when I went to Ibiza, girls all in nice bikinis, orange tans and perfect manicures. Nice footwear. But their conversations made me break out in mental hives.

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