Tag Archives: boo

Mustn’t read too much into it

2 Feb

Tinder date number 3, The Tutor, was kind of a bust. He was nice. Nothing wrong with him. He’s funny, gainfully employed, seems to have a nice relationship with his family, open about what he’s looking for and his faults, held the doors open, and walked me to my car. Needs a little work on the dress, but that’s all fixable. Not sure he’d be able to keep up with me in terms of banter, and I think he was a little intimidated by me. Just not what I wanted, not quite the right fit. It’s kinda like when you find a really great dress on the interwebs and you can’t wait to get it because you’re going to wear it to a big event, but once it arrives it doesn’t fit right across your chest and it’s too tight in the hips and then you’re stuck without the right outfit and you feel fat at the party. Exactly like that.

The worst part was that I had created this whole entire fantasy in my mind about how this would be the start of something special and it’s so disappointing when it doesn’t turn out that way. As much as I tell myself, “do not get ahead of yourself,” it’s hard to reign in the thoughts of how he’ll get along with my friends, whose house we’ll live in, how to break it to him that he’ll have to spend Christmas with my family, and where we’ll go for Valentine’s day. Now I have to get busy mourning this little fantasy relationship that I created for myself. Ugh, the worst.

It’s so discouraging and I barely just started. Then when I get back on stupid Tinder I run out of people to swipe on. I mean, OUCH! Like there’s literally no one around me anymore. And also, it sucks when you match with someone and you get crickets from them. A whole lot of nothing. Or else you get some random douche bag who just wants to touch you with the tip of his penis. Um, no. We’re not there yet. You need to calm down. Such a punch to the ego, you know?

I want to give up. I want to delete the apps and prepare myself to adopt some more cats. It’s easier. It’s less confronting. Would make me feel better about myself because I’d be the one making the choice to take myself off the market vs. contending with the fact that there’s no one out there for me.

The dating pool is like an above ground pool that has algae growing on the sides, leaves floating on the top, and too many dead bugs. In other words, not suitable for most humans. It’s making it really hard for me to jump in.

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Justin Timberlake isn’t the only one bringing sexy back

2 May

That’s right, fans.  I’m taking matters into my hands and doing what it takes.

And by “matters” I mean “every snack food I can find” and “doing what it takes” I mean “shoving them down my throat”.

Stupid PMS.  How is it possible to have so many cravings that can never be satisfied? It’s a miracle I haven’t eaten the island in the middle of my kitchen.  The only reason I haven’t tried it is because it’s black and gray and I can’t think of any appetizing foods that are black and gray.

In the last 45 minutes I hoovered:

  • An entire bag of chips
  • 3 candy bars (the mini ones)
  • A bowl of ice cream
  • 2 pieces of cheese
  • 1/4 herb turkey
  • 1 mango

I also managed to break out with 2 brand new pimples.  Welcome Simone and Simone 2!

Next up I’m going to sit on the couch and sob my way through the latest episode of Game of Thrones.  First I need a big glass of wine so I can rehydrate myself from all the tears I’m going to shed.

How much longer until menopause and hot flashes?

Google Can Suck It

26 May

God f’ing damn it.  No, really.  For the freaking love!!

I managed to drag my ass out of bed this morning and make it into work after a night of about 15 minutes of sleep.  Functioning on such little sleep requires that I do as little work as possible (which doesn’t make it very different than any other day at work).  Today I decided it would be a fun idea to fool around with my Google homepage and see if there were any new applications I need.

Behold Google Latitude!  It reports where your friends are and will share your location.  I decide it’s a good idea.  It asks me to select contacts from a list.  Sweet, I think to myself, now I can secretly stalk stupid 3D to see what he’s up to.

No, no!  It’s not that easy.

You see, it sends a fucking INVITATION to their god damn email when you click on their name.  That means that 3D is starting at an email from me inviting him to share his location with me.

God.  Damn. It.

Fucking Google.

Protected: Not So Peen-tastic

8 May

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You Told Me So

14 Aug

You warned me this was going to happen.

You told me that I should just stay away.

Well, I didn’t listen.  I went ahead and decided to give 3D another shot-gave him the benefit of the doubt that we loved each other enough to try to work things out.  Yeah, not so much.

Last Friday we talked things out and I set down some boundaries.  He complied, but he still acted like the needy, insecure guy that he is.  We had to have a discussion about feelings every single night since Friday.  Now, I don’t know about you, but I’m not the “let’s talk about feelings until we’re both blue in the face” kind of girl.  Frankly, talking about feelings makes me want to throw myself out the nearest window.  3D, on the other hand, thinks it’s important to communicate every second of every waking day.  “It’s what you do in a relationship,” he says, “Communication is important.”  Yeah, it’s important to communicate, but not so much that it gets in the way of breathing.  Really?  Before the 3 month mark in a relationship, there shouldn’t be that freaking much that you have to work out.

But I digress…

So, we gave it another shot, and we ended up having all these stupid lame asstalks about feelings and bumps in the road and why won’t you just love me, and why don’t you want to be with me all the time, and I know you said you needed your space tonight but can I see you anyway.  Needless to say, this was not turning out the way that I had hoped.  It’s as if he had gone from my dreamy dreamboat to Captain Needy McNeederton from Needyville.  Seriously, shoot me in the face.  I can’t handle all that insecurity.

The final straw happened last night.  I talked to him at about 7:30 while I was on my way to therapy.  At the end of the conversation I told him that I would just talk to him tomorrow (which is now today.  It’s crazy how that whole time thing works.), and he got kind of needyquiet.  He then asked, “Why’s that?”  I had to explain to him that I just wanted to be by myself afterwards, so he proceeded to get cranky and we said goodnight.

At 9:50 he sends me the following text message: Hon, I know you said you wanted your space tonight.  I just need to know that everything is ok between you and I.

For the love!!  For the freaking love of things and stuff.  Really?  You can’t let me have one night?  Not one god damned night to myself?  My first reaction was to call him back and tell him everything was fine (which was a lie), but I was afraid we’d have to talk about feelings again.  Then I thought I’d just text message him in the morning and told him that I didn’t get his message (another lie).  Then I wondered, how bad are things that I’d rather lie to him to save myself the trouble of dealing with this?

I’ve been dreading having to have “the talk” with him.  He’s clever, he’s manipulative, I was sure that he would talk me out of it.  He knows just what to say, and what to do.  Let’s be honest, he can play me like a violin-he’s that good.  So I decided that email would be the way to go.  Self preservation, that’s my justification.  I can’t afford to put myself in a situation where I’m going to walk away with doubts, or worse yet, not walk away at all.  It’s like he was beating the spirit out of me, and I just didn’t want to put myself in that position anymore.

Long email, all eloquent and shit.

Feelings, blah blah, control issues, blah blah we tried, blah blah can’t do this, blah blah sexually compatible, blah blah glass half full blah blah this isn’t working blah blah you can’t change my mind blah blah can’t give you what you need blah blah communication blah blah feelings blah blah love blah blah no future blah blah blame blah blah peace out, Homes.

I think you get the picture.  So, I end the message by telling him that I don’t want to talk things out and that I don’t want to see him because it would make things harder.  I hit send.

He responds (like I knew he would).  At the end of his message, he writes, “Can you still take me to XYZ on Thursday?  I really can’t ask anyone to take off that day.”  WHAT??

Umm…no.

Another Prime Example of Un-boyfriend’s Uselessness

30 Aug

I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: Un-boyfriend is useless.  Several months ago, I had a minor emotional outburst and posted about Mr. Big X returning to the area from Chicago.  Un-boyfriend and I had been broken up for a few months before I started dating Mr. Big X.  They knew each other, and were civil to one another.

As it turns out, he happens to be working in the same building as Un-boyfriend.  How about that for a coincidence??  When I found out that they would be working in the same building, I was sure that Un-boyfriend would provide me with some scoop about Mr. Big X.  He would regale me with stories about how Mr. Big X had a receding hairline, an extra chin, and a pot belly.  I was looking forward to hearing all about it.

They had their first run in about 2 months ago.  Un-boyfriend saw Mr. Big X from across the gym.  They did not speak to one another, and he could not provide me with a physical description of how Mr. Big X had lost his once hot looks.  Nothing.  Not. One. Damned. Thing.  Since then, I hear that they ride in the elevator together and they pretend not to know one another.

Until today.  Below is the email exchange highlighting the interaction between Un-boyfriend and Mr. Big X:

  • UB: I just talked to your boy for the first time.
  • CS: How’d that go for you?
  • UB: Super. He said, “Hey Un-boyfriend, how are you?” I said, “Good Mr. Big X, how are you doing?” To which he replied, “Good.”

He clearly missed the memo where he’s supposed to get me all the dirt on Mr. Big X so that I can revel in the fact that his life went to shit after he dumped me on New Year’s.  That’s right, on New Year’s.  Nice guy.