bye, george

the george from February is still around. like a cough you just can't shake. you think you're fine, you're better...but there's just that damn cough that keeps popping up and won't go away. let me sum up the past month as succinctly as possible.

when we left our manless dogless heroine, she had not heard from george, and she was heartbroken. well, of course george called while he was out of town and poured his heart out. he said he wanted to be with me and have babies together and get married and of course he wanted to do me (the latter first and the rest in no particular order). during the course of our three hour conversation, he said that being on the phone with me made him happier than he'd felt in a long time. he said he was serious about us, for real this time, and that my hesitation was unwarranted. "it's not going to be like last time," he said. "i see my future, and i see you in it." etc...etc... he said he wanted to see me on Monday when he returned. actually, he asked if i could pick him up from the airport (i could not), so he made plans with me for later. "what time do you get off work?" he asked. "5:30." "i will be at your house at 5:31," he replied. "okay. well, i won't be there then. but okay." he went on about how much he couldn't wait to see me. he even ended the conversation with "love you." (i ignored that.)

so Monday came...and i patiently waited for a phone call that didn't come...didn't come until tuesday anyway. and when it did come, there was no mention of what the hell happened to him the day before. just small talk, and i didn't have the energy to investigate or maybe i didn't care or maybe i wasn't surprised or all of the above. fast forward to Friday. around 12:45 a.m., my phone rang. it was him.
"come meet me at (some bar)."
"i can't. it's late, and i just got to my friend's house." (all of which was true)
"you can both come meet us or we [he and his friend] can come over there."
"uh. no. i don't think so."
"well, just come meet me for 20 minutes."
"no."
"then i'll come over there. 10 minutes."
"no."
"i can't believe you won't give me 10 minutes."
"it's not that i don't want to see you, but i would appreciate you calling me ahead of time and making plans with me if you want to see me. i don't like feeling like an after thought."
"well, i don't want you to feel like, so i'll keep that in mind." keep that in mind? so instead of just making a proper plan and setting a proper date, his response was "i'll keep that in mind."
"i was just trying to spend some time with you," he continued, "because i'm going to be out of town a lot." i love when men think they're doing you a favor.
"well, if you hadn't flaked on me last monday, we wouldn't be having this problem. now would we?"
he mumbled something.
"what was that?"
"you're right about that," he repeated.
he said he would call the next day. when i didn't hear from him, i sent him a text to see if he was still upset about the night before or if he was just "busy." he didn't respond.

(insert two weeks of me not hearing from him or reaching out to him)

after a while, i just figured it was dead. over. one less thing i had to worry about. on march 20, my friend actually asked me about him, and i said, in so many words, just that. it was done. not going anywhere. good riddance. that night, i got home, crawled in the bed, turned on "always sunny in philly" and was just getting into that first realm of sleep when the phone rang. it was around 2, and it was him. again with the "meet me at such and such."
"no. i am home. i'm in the bed. i'm not driving anywhere else tonight."
to spare you the merry-go-round, let's just say that eventually he asked if he could come over, and i said yes. despite knowing what he's about and knowing the drill and not wanting to waste my time with something going nowhere...there was/is that part of me that wanted someone to come into my room and go to sleep with me and wake up with me. and that's the part i listened to.

and that's not the only thing i listened to. when he got there, i listened to him say things like, "just because i don't call or see you regularly doesn't mean anything. you know where my heart is." even typing that out just now made me laugh. i also listened to that familiar speech about how he needs to focus on himself and his career right now, and that's really all he has the capacity for.
"oh. well, is that all that's been holding your attention?" i inquired.
"no."
"so what else?"
"i don't want to tell you because i don't want you to stop talking to me."
"what else?"
"well...you know....it's really hard when you've been with someone for so long to just cut the ties."
so here we are 4 years later, dealing the same problem: him claiming to be done with some woman that he doesn't need in his life and his actions indicating otherwise. please don't think i let this or the staring deep into my eyes get to me. i held my breath to keep from inhaling any of this bullshit. but knowing that it was bullshit and not feeling anything toward him didn't entirely prevent me from having weak moments as the night wore on. i am human. and he is persistent.

when he woke up the next morning, the first words out of his mouth were, "why are you looking at me like you wish i hadn't come over here?" i didn't know it was that obvious. i explained honestly that i was a little disappointed in myself for breaking my "rules" and ignoring logic--logic that tells me not to mess with a dude who rarely calls you or sees you and not to give a man the time of day if he hasn't let go of his ex. to this he replied simply and cliche-ly, "rules are meant to be broken."

after a morning of lying around (because despite the fact that he had soooo much to do he decided he "would rather lie in bed with [me]"...favor #2), and him ignoring his phone (which rang a few times throughout the night as well), and watching tv, and listening to 90s music, i told him the least he could get me for my troubles was some breakfast. he agreed. and paid. wow. though a little IHOP never broke the bank for anyone as far as i know.

after breakfast, i had to take him to his car (his friend had dropped him off the night before). i figured i was taking him back to his friend's place, but i quickly realized that was not the case as he guided me to the apartment he used to share with his (ex)-girlfriend, the apartment she still lives in now. when i pulled in the driveway, all i could do was laugh.
"i can't believe this is my life. actually yes, i can," i noted to self.
"what? it's just my car. just my car is here."
"well, your body had to be here for you car to get here."
to that he said nothing. he hemmed and hawed and caressed my hand and told me he'd call me when he "got a chance." That chance came the following Saturday (march 27), when he opened the phone call with, "i thought you would appreciate a phone call." again, with the mf'ing favors.

i haven't seen him or talked to him since. i don't have a desire to. i know he's no good for me, i know it's not going anywhere, and i don't even want it to. there's not even passion or a strong physical connection that makes it hard for me to resist him. so why do i pick up the phone when he calls? the only thing i can "fault" is the part of me that is truly human...and womanly and longs for the scent of testosterone, the scratch of a beard, the sound of footsteps other than my own every now again, the inability to roll from one side of the bed to the other unobstructed, the presence of another person.

happy easter.

give it up

no...i haven't heard from ol' george from my last entry. out of town or not, i'm sure you could have found "a second" as there are a lot of seconds in 9 days. but honestly, i've had way more pressing issues to deal with, like my complete and utter failure at lent.

i gave up sugar and soda, and though i haven't let a drop of soda touch my lips, i have poorly resisted sweets. last sunday, i slipped up and had some vegan strawberry shortcake...and a very un-vegan brownie on monday...actually three brownies...partially because i felt entitled because of the week i'd had and partially because my boss said episcopalians have sundays "off." i'm no episcopalian, so i'm not sure why i thought that would apply to me. anyway, i decided to make up for it by going to bible study monday at a catholic church (though i'm not catholic either) for the first time in my life and hoped that would make up for my "transgression."

i have since reassessed the whole sugar/soda thing and figured that indulging in one or the other isn't going to make me a bad person and that i should probably spend these 40 days figuring out how to be better, more grounded, more full of hope and faith, than worrying about what's going into my mouth. not to say i'm going on a sugar binge. i still haven't had soda, and i will do my very best to resist the "temptations of the sweet."

on another note, i DID meet a guy today. yes, he was homeless. and shirtless. with the biggest knockers i've ever seen on a dude. ass crack stretching well above the rim of his pants, a sham-wow swaying from his belt.

i have this thing with homeless guys. i don't know why i attract them, but i do. it's a characteristic i'd like to shake, but as i learned today, it persists. so, during lunch, i saw this guy moseying across Western, dodging traffic, and as soon as i saw him, i knew, KNEW, that i wasn't going to make it through this intersection without some sort of interaction. the light turned red. i pulled to a stop and focused my attention on the sidewalk on the opposite side of the street.

the first thing i heard was some yelling that i couldn't decipher. i looked to the sidewalk, hoping that it might be anyone but him. then i heard it again. and again.
and before i knew it, he'd cut through waiting traffic and landed next to my passenger door...which was locked, fortunately.
he said something. "what?" i asked. i wasn't about to roll down the window. he said it again. "what?" i turned the music down.
"you wanna give me a ride?" he inquired, his tits bulging toward the pavement.
"no," i smiled.
"well, i just wanted to say hi."
"hi," i waved and wondered what the people behind me and in front of me were thinking behind their locked doors.
"come on. give me a ride," he tried again, but this time, he added a little something extra. his tongue came out his mouth, slowly, like an animal caged for far too long, and he proceeded to show me all the ways he could please me with it. at least, i assume that's what he was doing with the flicking and undulating, contracting and expanding. i rolled my eyes and turned the other way, hoping my rejection would send him on his way. but no. he stood there, tonguing on the other side of the window until i was FINALLY able to drive again. the last thing i saw was his crack and his sham-wow dipping through cars on their way to the sidewalk.

so...yeah...one door closes and another opens and there's a homeless guy with an eager tongue behind it.

i think i gave up dating for lent too, L.A.

georgey-porgey puddin' pie, kiss the girls and make them cry

valentine's day. i had dance class, then rehearsal (i was invited to join a dance group, which has been one of the few bright spots in my year. i am very excited.). afterward, some of us grabbed a late lunch. lunch turned into a trip to tj maxx which turned into having dinner, which turned into eating vegan cinnamon rolls (surprisingly and ridiculously good) which morphed into lying around the instructor's apt and listening to music and watching youtube. it was very laid back.

fast forward to 3 a.m. i was running to my car which was parked sort of far away, and i noticed an apt. bldg that looked just like the apt bldg that an old flame used to live in. let's call him george (because he's from washington d.c.). george and i dated when i was 24/25, 4 years ago. i was crazy about him. we met at a golf course. February 2006. initially, i was only slightly intrigued, but i took him up on his offer for a little one on one golf lesson the following monday. monday came and it was raining, and my minimal interest did not benefit from inclement weather. plus my cousin was in town and i wanted to hang out with her, so i WANTED to flake. but i didn't have his #, so i had to go. i planned to wait 15 mins. then leave.

surprisingly, he showed up, but we couldn't golf obviously due to the weather, so we went to westside pavilion and walked around and then went to lunch. and by the end of the day, i really liked him, and we just started hanging out after that. everything was cool up through my birthday in April. i knew about his ex, but he said she was crazy and he was over her (she had threatened to kill herself if he dated anyone else, and one night she called and said she was doing it and he rushed over, blah blah. but he claimed to be aware of her insanity and said he knew that he didn't need that drama in his life. so i wasn't worried about her.).

then, in april, he left town for work, and he didn't call for 17 days. 17! and i was heart broken. now, i was smart enough to know that it was about her. so i called him on day 17, and that's when he told me that she had shown up and they'd been talking and he was confused, etc. we met up when he got back. he drove me to a parking lot and gave me a piece of hershey pie and said he needed time to figure out what he wanted, and he didn't want to lose me, but he needed to be honest. i appreciated his honesty, and i hung around for a couple of weeks maybe. but then i got a job as an asst. at an agency, and i knew it was going to kick my ass, and i didn't want to be distracted by what he was or wasn't doing. plus, i felt like he should know who was better (me), and if he didn't oh well, i wasn't going to sit on my behind anymore and wait for him to figure it out. so i emailed him while he was visiting his mom and told him that i thought he was great but that i wasn't going to be second. that was pretty much the end.

back to Sunday night. so then i realized it WAS the bldg he used to live in. then i looked at the spot he used to park in and i saw his car, but i was confused because i knew he had moved. but i went to the back of the car and saw the redskins license plate holder on the back, so i knew it was his car, but i still didn't know why he was there. anyway it was 3 a.m. the day after valentine's day, and i was chock full of vegan cinnamon rolls and feeling impulsive, so i left a note on a dry cleaning receipt and hoped he'd get it. i didn't have too many expectations. i just genuinely wanted to know how he was doing and perhaps catch up over lunch.

he called monday morning. turns out his friend still lives there, and george is staying there for a week while he moves out of one apt and into another. we talked for a while, then he said he had some more moving to do and could he call me later, adding that his birthday was tomorrow (tuesday...he was turning 36) and asked if i would hang out with him.

so i did hang out with him. we met up at his friend's house. then he and i went to a bar, and i bought him drinks, and he got w-a-s-t-e-d. BUT before he got pissy drunk, he said a few things...

when we first got there, he got up for a second to go have a cigarette (a definite turn off for me, but something i seem to overlook with him, nevermind that he's always promising to quit), and he kissed me on the cheek and hugged me and was like, "i'm so glad we reconnected and i'm glad you're here and no matter where this ends up, it's nice to have someone in my life who understands." he was very affectionate, touchy feely. he pulled me over to him and had his arms around me and was kissing my neck and my shoulder and whatnot. at some point he said, "i'm so happy you wrote that note." talking about how it was fate because he'd only been staying at this place a week, etc. he did say that the place that he was moving out of was an ex-girl's place. i asked if it was the crazy girl from before who tried to kill herself. he said no. so it was a new girl. but i couldn't help but hear the "dun-dun-duuuun" music in my head. here we are again. in February. right after you've ended a relationship. seeming eager and ready to move on. but last time this picture-show didn't end so well.

i realize, after a while, that i have to take him home (lest he beat up the guy who asked me if george was my boyfriend...). i'm helping him with his seatbelt when he asks, "are we on the same page?" i'm like, "what do you mean?" he said, "well, i really trust how i've felt all night with you. i'm 100% happy with you. and i want you in my life. and i want to get this on track, get this to where it should be. but i feel like you're hesitant."
"well, i am hesitant for one because i don't know if you're for real talking or drunk talking."
"aw, c'mon. you know me better than that. i mean, everything i say."
"yes, but will you remember this in the morning? i'm also hesitant," i continued, "because i got my feelings hurt last time, and i don't want that again."
"oh! you want to talk about feelings being hurt? you crushed me."
"what are you talking about?"
"why did you just leave like that? you wanted nothing to do with me." i reminded him about the conversation we had after he didn't call for 17 days, and he told me his ex was back in the picture and he was trying to figure out how he felt about her, and at the time, i asked him if he was still in love with her, and he said he didn't know.
so i said, "i knew you were going to pick her, so i had to get out."
"what do you mean you knew i was going to pick her? i was straight up with you about everything, and if you had just stuck it out with me through that, we'd still be talking now." or something he said... then he goes into something about how he feels, but i don't remember because it didn't make sense and his eyes were closed and he was taking these long ass, "is he asleep?" pauses in between sentences.

i got him home, got him upstairs, gave him some water, took off his shoes, and he laid on the couch. he pulled me next to him, and he said, "i'm going to remember this birthday. i'm going to remember how you looked out for me and gave me water and made sure i was safe. i'm going to remember how you're rubbing my head right now." and then he was out. i stayed there until 4 (i think) to make sure he was okay, and i tried to get some sleep, but it wasn't happening, so i had to go home. i wrote him a note (happy birthday. i will check on you later.) and left. and my car was f....a....r. i said a little prayer and walked as fast as i could in my boots.

then he called tuesday morning at 7:38 and said he got my note and was asking what happened last night; he remembered some things but not everything, and i DID NOT bring up anything that he said. i figured we could talk about that when i was not rushing to get ready for work. he said he had a wonderful birthday and that it was special. then he was like, "did we make out?" i said no. he seemed pretty disappointed and vowed not to drink again for a while. then george asked if he could see me that evening as he would be leaving for two weeks Wednesday morning. i said sure. he kept talking about how we didn't make out, and finally, i said, "your birthday isn't over til midnight, so relax." that quieted him down. i told him i would call him after i left work.

hang in there. i'm almost done, faithful reader.

so i called him a little before 7 p.m. and left a message saying i could see him after class (around 1030). he TEXTED me about 20 minutes later and said:

I'm not going to be able to kick it tonight, but you are in my thoughts and i will call you when I have a second.

in a text message! i didn't respond. it sounded a little suspect to me. maybe because i'm completely influenced by past experience or just because it feels funny, especially because it was a text. so i just went to class and rehearsal. of course, at rehearsal the five girls were sitting around talking about their husbands and fiances and the instructor was telling us about the great date she had the day before, and meanwhile i'm thinking about my situation, and i just got really sad. so i went home and cried and talked to my mom some.

and i still haven't heard from him.

and now, i'm back to wondering why any of this had to happen. why did i have to park there? why did i have to notice the bldg or the car? why was i able to find a pen in my car to write the damn note? why didn't i just go home? why does the universe like to joke around? why prompt me to open this unnecessary can of worms if i'm going to have to do damage control? i don't really expect answers; these are just my thoughts.

and why couldn't he keep his mouth shut? why couldn't we have just hung out like normal people without him spouting a bunch of linguistic bullshit and touching me? and why am i so upset by this? my level of emotion bothers me. i knew he was intoxicated, and i didn't think that i was throwing caution to the wind and believing everything he said, but...maybe some of it seeped it. maybe i wanted to believe that he wouldn't just lie, drunk or not. i'm also disappointed. and i'm tired of being that way. upset that i seem to have fallen for the same okie-doke from the same person in the same situation. granted, i caught myself faster, but not fast enough not to feel anything. i'm upset that i have a hole in me so big and so sensitive that even some drunken musings can bring me to tears. i'm upset that i'm bothered by someone who wasn't in my life and week ago and who probably isn't even right for me. i feel stupid and foolish for giving him some benefit of the doubt, for buying him three drinks. and i'm mad at the universe for thinking that this was a swell idea. i've been disappointed enough to know how the f*ck it feels, so i didn't need a recap.

anyway, that's where i am now. today is better than yesterday and tomorrow will be better than today, i hope. so how is that for a post?

2010...2.5 months in

honestly, i hadn't planned on writing on this thing ever again. i'm sort of over the whole "let me manage my heartache by writing about it" bit. i'd rather not have anything to write about. and for a while, i didn't. but now i do. and i'm so damn bored right now that i have no other option than to post something. so for those loyal few who are still hanging in there, bearing with me through my silence and stubborness...your wait is just about over. i will post momentarily.

oh, and to DJ EMM: my nye was spent babysitting my niece and her new puppy. i watched a shitload of nickelodeon and tried to get the little lady and the tramp to go to sleep.

an observation from atop the hiatus

if you hang out/have an intimate encounter with a guy who you've been seeing for five months, and he doesn't "call" you (read: text you) for 11 days and counting, that is kind of shitty.
regardless of how low my expectations might have been (and i'm pretty sure they weren't THAT low), that is kind of a dick move.

and it bothers me a little.

it's just disappointing when you think someone gives a shit, at least a minimal shit (...they act like they do anyway), and then you realize they don't. and the more concessions and compromises you make, the worse it seems to get.

i think back to all the advice i received over the course of this situation about my expectations and men...and i think that perhaps i wasn't so wrong to begin with. my adoption of new behavior, techniques and a laissez-faire attitude mixed with more aggressive/proactive tactics didn't really get me anywhere. so...i guess i'm back to square one. with a renewed conviction about what i don't want and how i do not wish to act and how i do not wish to be treated.

hiatus

MD has been on hiatus because MD has made some questionable moves that have led MD to be self-reflective and talk in third person.

in essence, i've involved myself with the same person in a way that's not productive and kinda made me feel shitty. so much so that i haven't even felt like talking about it. furthermore, i wasn't sure how i was going to handle myself going forward...

but don't get me wrong. i don't think i'm a victim or anything. i know this is my own fault for not walking away. and i've tried to deal with it by not dealing it. in the past, it's taken so much energy for me to forget about someone, to consciously make the decision not to deal...ever again. so in an effort, to avoid expending that energy, i've just concluded not to do anything. however, this too can be problematic.

anyway, whatever. i'm trying to do my positive thinking shit...and i'm on plenty of fish (ooohhh, the horrors) in an effort to get myself out there. sigh...

so forgive me for my absence. but sometimes even i can't handle myself. i hope to have a much better situation to discuss soon.

silence is not golden

i will spare you my emotional and psychological babble and just give you the facts because, in this case, the facts are really all that matter.

last thursday, i received an email from a friend about my expectations for men and the latest man in particular. In summary, "This guy is just a man. Stop expecting more from him than that. Your trying to not be too available is coming across as trying not to see him at all. Give the guy a chance - even if it's to break your heart, because if you play it safe like this, you'll never get the big pay out."

her words resonated with me. i felt like there was truth to what she was saying, and i felt compelled to act. so, i sent him (the most recent guy) a text message that read, "just wanted to say hi. how are you doing?"

he responded shortly thereafter with, "doing well. how are you?" i told him i'd been under the weather and asked him how his project (the one that had consuuuuuumed him so much and sent him to and fro) was going. he said it was on hold, and explained why. then he said, "i'm leaving on monday to go home for a week." i have to insert a bit of internal monologue here. "hmm," i thought. "is he telling me this just so i'll know? is that a hint? a nudge? an 'opening of the door' if you will? he wouldn't just say that for no reason, right?" so i took that as an "in" and told him that i would like to hang out with him before he left, and if he was interested in doing that, he could let me know.

silence. thursday silence. friday silence. saturday silence. sunday silence. the first three days, my expectations for a response were low, but the sunday silence was the deepest. the most felt. now, as with all M/F interactions, i have been presented with theories--that perhaps i screwed up by not directly asking him to spend time with me and suggesting a specific time and date. or that i did nothing wrong, and i should not take his silence personally. that perhaps he was just too busy to hang out or had to much going on.

whatever the case, the FACT is that he didn't say anything. nothing. not a yes. not a no. not a maybe. nothing. and i was hurt by that. and i took it personally, whether i should have or not.his silence opened the floodgates and widened the ever-present hole. because to me, the quiet on the other end was an even deeper rejection than a simple "i don't think so" might have been. at least i would have known. at least then my mind wouldn't have seesawed all day between he "probably won't call" and "of course, he will. why wouldn't he? think positively." at least if he'd said no, i wouldn't have held on to a sliver of hope until the 11th hour.

but i did. and when i finally had to let that hope go, it did not go without immense pain.

i said no emotional/psychological blabber, so let me quit while i'm slightly ahead.

ps. just read this quote (on cnn.com of all places). from buddha. "Suffering, if it does not diminish love, will transport you to the furthest shore." my mind is digesting this right now.

happy thanksgiving.

stella

i spent the latter part of last week trying to get my groove back after a balls-out shitty week. after being told that i perhaps acted a little too hastily in my "fuck you, don't ever call me" episode, i did the weird, crazy girl thing and texted him the next day with, "so you have nothing say? it's like you don't even care." and he (rightfully so) responded with, "what do you want to hear from someone you don't want to see? of course i care but you basically told me you'd rather have nothing to do with me than be friends so i'll respect that. i'll even hide behind a bush if i see you coming so it won't be awkward." i responded. he didn't. finally, i told him if he wanted to talk in person fine, if not, fine (enough of this texting bullshit). he said "you're always welcome to come over for a beer..."
the plan was for me to go over on tuesday. however, didn't quite happen.
i ended up texting him that night and said, "so are we still on?"

him: sure come on over and have this awkward conversation.
me: i can't tell if you're joking or being serious. i'm not trying to
have some long, awkward conversation. mostly i'm just coming to get
my beer. but we don't have to hang if you don't want.
him: i'm joking, of course. i'm pretty busy with writing again
tonight, and dealing with my idiot cousin. what time do you get out
of work tomorrow? early evening would work best for me.
me: i volunteer tomorrow. [granted, i could have skipped it, but i
didn't want to be that available.]
him: so what time are you done volunteering?
me: 8. in hollywood. so early evening won't work for me.
him: drat.
me: and this is where you suggest an alternate time. but i have dance
on Thursday.
him: how about i meet you at dance class?
me: ha. no. try again.

and that was that. he hasn't said anything since. at this point, i figure he probably won't, and now i'm just digesting the idea that we will probably never talk or see each other again. i figure, the sooner i get that in my head, the better off i'll be. regardless of how much it may hurt my feelings. ANYWAY, in an effort to distract myself from the grim realities of my situation, i went out on thursday for a friend's birthday. went to a bar downtown. i got hit on by a couple of guys, struck up conversations with them...i was feeling veeeeery stella. until the lameasses i was talking to got kicked out for being far too drunk and much too belligerent (not to me, just in general). ahhh, yes. i am officially back, i thought. back to attracting the young ones. you're 22, you say? of course you are!

sunday night wasn't much different. i went to a bar to watch the late game. there was one empty bar stool. i asked the guy next to it if it was free. he said it was. a few minutes later he struck up a conversation, and we discovered that we're both from dallas, went to school down the street from each other and know some of the same people. crazy. "what year did you graduate?" he asked. "'99," i said. "you?" all the while i'm thinking, "please don't say 2000 something, please don't say 2000 something." "2002," he said. damnit! seriously, i cannot shake this thing i have for attracting guys who are young (emotionally or literally) and who don't have their shit together. not saying this guy doesn't, but i mean...we know the odds. i gave him my number anyway because he was nice, and i thought he might be a good distraction, and i figured, "why fight it? clearly i am a magnet for these fools so i might as well embrace it. concede that i'm not going to be in a serious, stable relationship anytime soon and just try to enjoy what i get." yes, i would LOVE a mature, stable, available gentleman, but if the universe keeps bringing me the opposite, what's a girl to do?

i guess i could just say "no...", L.A.

so much for that

that whole friends business is for the birds.

friday, as i was leaving work, i got a text messaging from him saying my bike wouldn't fit in his car (and since he's moving into his place, it could no longer stay in the storage unit) and did i have any ideas? i supposed this text was not only to serve as notification about my bike but notification that he was back in town as well...oh, that's right "we're friends," so i guess you don't really have to tell me those things until you get good and ready. i kept it strictly business. told him when i could come get it, etc. after a few messages back and forth, he asked, "so what are you up to tonight?" i told him, making myself sound busy, which truthfully i was. i guess he was feeling chatty because he responded and made a joke. i said nothing.

the next day, i called him (yes, called) to finalize bike plans. i was already dreading this encounter because i knew how it would go: i would see him, it would be awkward, and i would leave feeling worse than i did when i got there. and that's what happened. while my friend loaded the bike, we made small talk. again, he asked me what i was up to that night, adding that "if i end up doing anything fun, give him a call." i think this is what did it for me. it felt like we had completely regressed. now, he couldn't even ask me to do something, to hang out, to go somewhere. now it's "give me a call if you have something fun planned." fuck you. don't date me for 4 months, sleep in my bed, bring me flowers and candy and whatever shit that makes me think you are really into me, and then turn around and be all fucking casual...like none of that shit ever happened. this was a worse situation than it was before he left. at least then he actually sort of made plans with me and didn't base our encounters on the possibility of external events.

i shed my tears finally (i hadn't done that since any of this happened), spent yesterday in one hell of a funk, and today i decided that this wasn't for me. if we're going backwards, if he can't even bother to make plans with me (no matter what level of dating we're at), then i can't deal. because i can't pretend that NOTHING happened. i can't pretend that we're just homies. what we had before was casual...this now is just bullshit.

so i told him that i was sorry but i couldn't do it. he didn't say anything. whatever. fuck 'em. i already unfacebooked him, and i had never saved his number in my phone (for this very reason), so i didn't have to worry about that. just need to clear out my text inbox, take a deep breath, and hope that the next several days bring me the peace of mind and heart that i need...again.

i am hurt yes. and sad. but this isn't new territory, so i'll survive...

mama says...

so last night, i talked to my mom. i expected her to say good riddance, and i should never talk to him again. like she normally does.

however, she surprised me when she suggested i accept his offer of hanging out on a casual basis and see how it goes. and try not to wear my heart of my sleeve so much (which is hard for me). she pointed out that he has said and done nice things, so he's not a bad guy...blah blah. he's just incapable of giving me a commitment because his life is in shambles (shambles is my word...perhaps disarray is more appropriate).

i wasn't expecting her to say anything like that, and it's something i never would have considered on my own. i'm usually an all or nothing girl. but maybe that's my problem. well...perhaps "problem" is too harsh. maybe that's my hang-up. i WANT the security of a relationship, and i haven't had that in a while. years. and this is generally how things have ended up as i have pursued what i want. so clearly, my wanting so much has gotten me no where. so maybe my approach is wrong. maybe i SHOULD consider a casual, non-intimate "relationship" (and my motto is--if you don't want a serious relationship, don't expect any serious nookie) with boundaries and limited expectations. and, of course, not just with him, but with anyone i like.

it goes against my natural inclination, but i have to do something. because obviously what i've been doing ain't cutting it.

...ashes, ashes, we all fall down

so it turns out i was right...about it being the beginning of the end. i'll stick to the dirty facts.

two days ago, when i said that i wasn't going to respond to that lame text, i lied. well, i meant it at the time, but tonight, my sense of right got the better of me, and i had to say something. keep in mind, the following all occurs via text.

me: i believe you that it's been hectic. but i go for days and don't hear from you (whether here or away) & that makes me uncomfortable. when ur seeing someone, you should call, email or at least text to let them know you are thinking of them. a small gesture that goes a long way. but when you don't or when you don't respond, it makes me think you're not really into this whole thing.

him: i'm sorry, i'm not a great communicator. i told you before i left that i didn't want anything serious, because i haven't figured out my own situation yet [this is not exactly true. more on that later.] i like you a lot...a whole lot. i think you're incredible, and painfully sexy. but if it's a serious relationship you're looking for right now, i'm only going to fuck it up. i don't want to upset you. you deserve more than i can offer right now...i'm not in the best spot, and i have to get my life straightened out before i can be seriously involved with anyone. i really like hanging out with you. i want to see you, but i feel embarrassed that i can't do the things i want with you, because you're one of the best people i've met in a long long time. my stress level has been through the roof lately dealing with all this crap for this show. i've spent the last 2 months working my ass off this and they keep slipping up. the last thing i want to do is project all my problems on you. i'm no fun when i'm stressed.

me: i get it. unfortunately, i am painfully familiar with this reasoning as i've heard it before. so this isn't what you want. okay. i wish i'd known before any feelings were involved. but we can't change that. i know now, and i'll deal with it.

him: i'm sorry, i tried telling you all this, that i didn't want to be serious. i still want to see you and hang out with you...does it have to be so serious?

me: when did you say this (not including when you were last here)? and what does not so serious mean to you exactly? cuz i don't think we have been.

him: that's when i said it, the last time we were together.

me: and to me, "i don't want to like you too much because i don't know where i'll be in 2 wks" means "once i figure it out, i'll be fine." but i totally didn't get what you really meant.

him: i meant what i said, that i don't want to like you too much because i can't be in a relationship right now. what is it you want?

me: okay. well by then everything had already happened, and like i said, i guess i just didn't understand what you meant. but now i do. what i want? someone who gives me time and attention and makes me feel like i'm important to them. i want what i give. it's not that much, but i know you have to be in the right mindset to do it.

and that was it. that was a few hours ago. i don't really have much else to say about it other than how the hell do i keep getting myself in this situation?

boo...and shit

c. anthoney...your explanation is the best i've heard. i actually kind of understand it when you put it like that. doesn't mean i necessarily like it, but i get it. i guess i equate texting with not caring, and perhaps i should not do that. since it seems impersonal to me, i figure a guy would only do that if he really didn't care or wasn't all that interested.

reenybug...ha! i can wait 'til after nine, boo, so we can use those good unlimited minutes.

anyway, thanks for your amusing and insightful comments. here's my latest. but first a background/recap:

any guy i meet/like/get involved with, already starts out with a deficit. because i've been disappointed so many times before, he has to try to climb out of the hole created by other people, and any slip up that might only marginally affect another, less heartbroken girl is totally magnified to me and makes a bad situation worse. pretty much, as a therapist told me a while back, i would need someone to do a shitload of things right over a loooooooong period of time for me to believe that they like me and for me to trust them. this is probably not realistic, but what ends up happening is that i see every mistake as proof that that this guy isn't going to stick around, that i am not and cannot be a priority for any man going back to daddy...
and either it winds up being true because it was the fate of the relationship all along or because i believed it and it was self-fulfilling. either way...the shit goes down.

which brings me to my mini-meltdown last night. so after i got home on halloween, i texted the boy (who is still out of town) and said "happy halloween!" all he had to do was say the shit back, and none of the rest of this story would exist. but he didn't. he said nothing. i forgot the rule that guys sometimes don't feel the need to respond if you don't ask a question, so maybe this is partially my fault, but whatever...it's bullshit. so at like 3 a.m. (or 2 a.m. depending on the time change), when i still hadn't heard from his ass, i sent a text that read "um...hi...are you okay?" his response? dead dumb silence. 4 a.m., 5 a.m., noon, 3 p.m. motherfucker. listen, if you INSIST upon communicating with me via text then i EXPECT that you should be able to do that shit promptly, seeing as how it doesn't involve any effort beyond you moving your thumbs.

by 6 p.m., i was done. i had watched sports all day and gone to my dance class and done all the "me" shit you're supposed to do when you're "not thinking about" a guy. but as it got all dark and shit all early, the thoughts began to creep in. "this is happening again...this guy is just going to disappear like _____ did or he's just going to stop putting in effort like _____ did. i've seen this before. i know how this ends." now perhaps, sally jane would have just figured "oh, he's busy. he'll get back to me. this is nothing personal." but not me. during the world series, my eyes started to tear up, and the only reason i didn't actually cry is because i was just so damn tired mentally and physically (because that class kicked my ass). i told my sane friend about it. she, of course, said it was no big deal, and that he would get back to me soon. i, being of the less sane variety, knew i would not be able to let this go. i felt so completely rejected and upset. "clearly, if you can't send a freaking text message, which is the only method of communication you seem capable of, then i can't be important at all." he's screwing an ex, i thought. or he's just realized he's not ready for a relationship (oh, that infamous excuse). anyway, i knew this was the end. i wanted to hate him, i wanted to be done with him, i wanted to have the last word.

so i texted him AGAIN (my mother popped into my head just before i sent it...she oozed of disappointment. but i had to ignore her). i said, "your lack of response makes me think something really IS wrong or that you're just ignoring me. hope it's not the 1st one. just in case it's the 2nd, i will let this be my last message." i sent it, turned off my phone and instantly felt better. i took a shower, watched some tv, and went to sleep. i woke up in the middle of the night and turned my phone back on (because it's my alarm clock and i gots to go to work). there was a text from him, but i didn't read it. i didn't want to be thinking about it, analyzing it and not be able to go to back to sleep. so i ignored it. didn't read it until i got in the car this morning. it said, "hey. busy week. what's going on?" or something like that. i screamed at the phone, "nothing is going on!" i won't respond to that because i don't really have anything to say. "Nothing is up. Just want to know that you give a shit. That you're actually thinking about me now and then. Later." No. And on another note, are you really THAT busy where even your thumbs can't move to type a simple message? i am inclined to call, "bullshit."

anyway, perhaps this would be a big deal to anyone. maybe just to me. and again, because of the "hole", little shit has a major effect on me. i've thought about trying to explain this to guys, but i feel like that would be a mess. i'm aware that i could be overreacting, but at what point are you not supposed to use the clues of the past to determine the present. i.e. at what point do i say well, when ____ didn't text me back, it's because he had decided he didn't want to see me or talk to me ever again. however, just because this guy did, it doesn't mean the same thing. Or, when ____ stopped calling/texting as much, it was the beginning of the end. however, just because this guy does it...

on one hand, people say you're supposed to learn from the past. on the other hand, you're not supposed to live in it. i don't know if i am just being smart (i.e. spotting the signs and knowing when it's not working) or scared. however, if i was communicated with on a more regular basis, i might not have to even think about this.

something's fishy

so...my lover (and i use that term loosely) is gone again. off in colorado, working to bring home some bacon. before he left, he blessed me with more flowers (pink roses) and a pumpkin, which we named gary. he spent the night before he left, and i when i departed for work, he was still at my house, per the usual. when i returned home that evening, i found my room in...strategic disarray. there was a tower of pillows in the center of my bed (undoubtedly a result of my comment, "it's always a treat for me to come home and see how you decided to make the bed that day..." i.e. "it doesn't look at all how it does when i make it, but i appreciate the effort"). in addition to other things being slightly out of place, gary the pumpkin was "standing" by the bathroom, wearing a dallas cowboys cap, a t-shirt from my middle school p.e. class and a pair of my pajama pants. the whole ridiculous scene made me laugh. i texted him to let him know that his presents were much appreciated. he responded. i decided that that would be the end of my communication while he was away--first of all, he's working and if he wants to talk, he knows how to reach me; secondly, i hate texting, and i wouldn't feel comfortable actually calling (seeing as how this is the precedent that has been set)...but i'll discuss that in a minute.

anyway, so i made this "vow" that i wasn't going to contact him...which i immediately broke when i feared he thought i was a bed wetter. let me just be clear: i am NOT a bed wetter. but on Saturday, i was making up my bed (so that i could lie in it again), and i discovered this yellow circle on my fitted sheet. my first thought was "wtf?" my second thought was, "oh shit. he's going to think i pee in the bed." considering that he made up my bed before he left, he undoubtedly saw this yellow circle, and he certainly concluded that it came from pee and decided i'm a bed wetter and "oh my god!" he's never going to talk to me again. these were the thoughts tumbling around in my mind, while i paced around my room, muttering and smacking my head. i knew right then that i had to straighten this out; i was already so embarrassed and 5 days had passed since he'd made the bed, so i had to take care of this immediately. so i prepared my fingers for a lengthy text. yes, a text. back to that. if i don't quite feel comfortable just calling on a normal day to say "hey", there's no way in hell-town that i am going to call him, while he's probably working, to explain to him that the yellow stain he might have seen in my bed was not at all piss.

here's how the FOUR texts broke down:
1.I know ur busy, but i was just making up my bed and i noticed a yellow circle on the sheet, and i thought "oh no, he will think i

2. pee in the bed." But really it's fish oil!! See i'm supposed to take 2 of those yellow liquid caps at night. And one night i fell asleep with them in my hand...

3. and when i rolled over, one of them exploded in the bed. and i thought it all came out when i washed the sheets but i guess not. Anyway it's from a vitamin not

4. pee. I just needed to say that. I only pee in designated areas.

honest truth. it really is fish oil (rich in omega 3s). i know that might not sound pleasant either (in terms of something you want on your sheets), but it's better than pee in my opinion.

so...i sent the texts, smacked my head some more...and waited. a while later, he responded.

"yeah right...next thing you know you'll be telling me gary is taking you to hawaii and that he's better at pac-man than me. No liquids after 6 for you"

i was relieved. i mean, if he's joking about it, then he's not totally grossed out by me. perhaps he too is relieved, having learned it wasn't pee.

so we texted back and forth a few times, jokingly, and that was that. so...i am glad that the pee thing is over, however...the texting...

i'm not quite sure what triggered my suddenly strong aversion to it. but i know it was before i read this article:
http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2007/09/14/AR2007091401972.html
and this one
http://www.usatoday.com/tech/news/techinnovations/2006-01-29-love-texting_x.htm
because i actually went looking for articles to support my feelings. and they did.
texting/boy-talking is killing romance. and yes, it is primarily men who are proponents of this method of communication. it has replaced the phone call, allowing men to make or break plans without having to be too vulnerable or get too invested. a couple of years ago, i removed text messaging from my phone entirely. i was over it--i found it impersonal and annoying. i ended up putting it back on my phone several months later because people kept sending me messages despite the fact that i told everyone i knew not to. furthermore, i won't deny its convenience--if you're running late or in a loud place or just witnessed a cock-fight, texting can be a simple way to get your message across. even if it's something cutesy like "just thinking of you" or "miss you" or "can't wait to get you naked later". i don't mind that. but as a primary method of exchanging thoughts and ideas with your (semi) significant other...i'm not down. i want to hear your voice. men, we want to hear your voice. and i don't think we expect loooong high-school length conversations where you fall asleep and drool on the phone. just a quick "hi. how was your day? do you want to hang out tomorrow? see you then" would be ma-gi-cal. this is my conclusion based on the unofficial research i've done and my own feelings. it's a pain being caught between the generation who does nothing but TXT (LOL...OMG) and the one who used to write letters. call me a traditionalist, but i'm more in line with the latter. there's something romantic about a phone call (even when it isn't obviously romantic in context). it is where love and romance are nurtured. i am on a mission to try to get me some o' that.

i will c u L8er, L.A.

when a man loves a woman...

on the ride into work this morning, that song was playing on k-earth 101. not the michael bolton version. the authentic percy sledge version.

when a man loves a woman
spend his very last dime
tryin' to hold on to what he needs
he'd give up all his comfort
sleep out in the rain
if she said that's the way it ought to be

percy's unbridled emotion and heart-on-a-sleeve honesty was the perfect song to conclude a weekend that left me wondering, "when DOES a man love a woman?" and better yet, "when does a man love THIS woman?"

and i don't really mean love in its truest since. not how percy certainly meant it. not for the sake of this discussion. but love as in: when is a man really, really into his woman? when is the idea of spending his last dime, his last ounce of energy to be with her, not so far-fetched?

in my twisted world, i believe such sentiments should develop immediately...like gas. within a matter of weeks...who am i kidding...within a matter of DAYS, if you both parties are into each other, then yes, i believe a guy should be willing to do all he can to spend time with his lady. it's probably wrong, i know. the problem is 1) i'm a romantic; 2) i PERSONALLY would do anything i could to see a guy that i like; and 3) i'm swimming in couples for whom this is precisely the case.

you remember that show hart to hart? jonathan, the millionaire (which meant a hell of a lot more in '79 than it does today) and jennifer, his beautiful writer wife. they always got sucked into some investigation involving murder or thievery. they'd run around, dressed to the nines, waving silver plated pistols, escaping from their captors in zippy little two-seaters. and at the end of the day, they would snuggle in bed, tell each other how much they meant to the other, and the scene would fade on what was certainly about to be a night of sweet, sweet lovin'. you knew that the harts were in love. you wanted to be the harts (well, i did). i mean, any couple that could experience that much danger, excitement, adventure and still know that the only thing that truly mattered was their love for one another...that's an awesome couple. jonathan would do anything for his woman, and jennifer was down for her man without question.

now think about max, their butler/chauffeur. max had a front row seat to the hart show. he witnessed everything that went on between them--the good and the better. he knew how amazing their relationship was. in fact, he couldn't escape it. max might have had a lil' tenderoni on the side, but no relationship he was in compared to what the harts had. max (if he thought like a woman, which for the sake of this argument, he shall) would have second-guessed every relationship he was in because it was not like the harts. i, ladies and gentlemen, am max the butler/chauffeur.

lately, and this weekend once again, i found myself comparing my "relationship" to those of my friends. i happen to know a bunch of fucking prince charmings. i'm just not dating any of them. the men i know are totally into their women, and some have been dating for a lengthy bit of time (a few years) while others have not (a few months). regardless, their level of commitment, of total immersion into the relationship was immediate. they want to see their women all the time, talk to them all the time (that's if they're not living together, in which case, that's a given). they want to spend weekends and holidays with their women. they want to introduce them to their families and their friends. they want to celebrate accomplishments and sulk over disasters with them. they want them rain or shine. messy hair, yuck mouth, unshaved legs and all. i would say, they are consumed by their ladies in a way that falls short of annoying or obsessive, but is simply genuine.

so, if this is the paradigm i am most familiar with, how can i possibly think that my relationship, which is nothing like the aforementioned, is legit? or going anywhere? i see this guy twice a week (usually...), have yet to meet a local friend or relative and don't talk to him on the phone unless we're about to meet up (generally we just boy-talk). and i'm certainly not the person or place he seeks comfort in when things are awry. take this weekend for example. i figured we would see each other at some point, being that we last saw each other wednesday night/thursday morning and, as i said, we've been on a twice a week kick.

so i boy-talked him and asked when he'd like to get together. his reply was "soon." followed by 640 characters (or 4 texts) detailing what was going on with him...with a "how are you?" thrown in there. some of what he told me, i knew about. some i did not. selfishly, i didn't understand what anything had to do with his ability to see me. after all, shouldn't he want someone to cheer him up? to take his mind off things for a bit? but maybe i'm just projecting. maybe that's just what i would want. someone to hold my hand, rub my back and kiss me softly on the forehead, allowing me to forget, for a while, what it was that i was so worried about. or maybe i think that's the norm because that's what jonathan hart and my local prince charmings would want. so i wondered what it said about me, about us that he chose to keep his distance. and i let him. i told him that i was sorry and that i hope everything works out. i'm sure that somewhere in the world his behavior would be seen as normal behavior after three months, yes? not a reason to wonder or question or doubt. but again, my paradigm led me to doubt everything and to wonder why this hasn't happened or that hasn't happened and if i should be worried or just pack my bags. obviously, if he really liked me, i thought, he would have done all this stuff by now because that's what the other boys did...

but as a wise man resembling jesus said on saturday night, "all men are different." and i'm trying to remind myself of that...and include this man as someone who is not quite like the jonathan harts and other prince charmings out there. but lovely (and interested) in his own way. i try to remember the flowers he bought a couple of weeks ago (which are still alive), and the candy, and the taco he put in my fridge while i was at work. i remember that he boy-talked me as soon as he landed and makes the bed before he leaves my house. i remember that he didn't try to pressure me into sex even after two or three months and that he's cooked for me quite a few times. i try to focus on these things so that i don't feel like i am wasting my time if my relationship doesn't fit the mold i'm familiar with. so that i'm not so worried about why he hasn't asked me what my holiday plans are or introduced my to his brother. so i'm just going to relax and wait...and hopefully...maybe one day it will happen at the right time.

i am doing the smart thing, right L.A.?

well, ain't that a bitch?

i just found out that one of those guys i was dating with mild interest a year ago (in the hopes that continued dating might lead to sustainable interest...but did not) now has a girlfriend. i'm not mad about it or anything of the sort. he should have a girlfriend. he's smart, he's nice, he's successful, and maybe this new girl doesn't mind dating someone who has nothing to talk about...or maybe she doesn't have anything to talk about either. in any case, he's a good person, well-deserving of a lady. however, i couldn't help but think "ain't that a bitch?" when i heard about it because yet another male from my past has moved on and found a solid mate. and i tend to be the last stop before eternity-ville. so i guess my hang up is that i want it to be my turn. i want to be the one whose status is "in a relationship". i want to be the one whose exes are stalking her facebook page to see how attractive the "new guy" is. put me on the receiving end, please.

but i have no room for complaints right now. things are currently going well in the romance department. any guy who cooks salmon and asparagus for me while i watch the games on sunday is A-OK in my book. and then sits there and yells at the TV with me...ahh, now that's romance. he has been brimming with sweet gestures lately, so i am content. food and thoughtfulness are all you need to win me over. so i will count my blessings and say my thank yous this week. i will now officially unpack my luggage from my trip to Crazy Bitch City and relax...

i am currently sane, L.A.

i never said i wasn't a little crazy

so yes, i MAY have overreacted earlier this week. okay, scratch the "may have". however, i'm sure i would do it all over again, given the same circumstances, but i can admit, in hindsight, that i was a little hasty and irrational. of course, i'm only saying this because i got what i wanted...

my somewhat sassy text message about my late grandmothers' texting abilities garnered a response. it went something like: sorry. (insert joke about grandmas.) i had a shitty day after i landed. i'm over it now. when do you want to get together?

i decided to be direct in my reply: sorry you had a bad day. i hope today is better. considering i haven't seen you in 39 days, i can be free whenever. prioritizing is a specialty of mine.

and THAT got me the response i wanted, which was: how about tonight?

sooooo...i ended up seeing him on the second day, which isn't the first, but certainly isn't worth complaining about. afterall, i'm not his girlfriend... and the second day was the one i'd envisioned all along. ahh, The Secret, you tricky devil.

i must say that the evening was......deeeelightful. he had flowers for me. beautiful flloooowers. and candy (candy which referenced an inside joke of sorts...double points for that). i was very, very surprised. i haven't been given flowers by a guy since...high school, i think. and of course, i found some way to ruin the moment. he picked up the flowers and said, "these are for you." i said, "yeah, right. who are they really for?" why? because i really didn't think they could possibly be for me, and no way was i going to think they were only to have him be like "sike! hell naw, these ain't for you." but why would i even think something like that? that's a whole nother issue...

once i realized these nice things really were for me, i expressed my sincerest gratitude. i said something like, "thank you for my flowers. they are lovely." and i THINK he said something like, "not as lovely as you." i feel like that happened, but i could have been fading into sleepytown at that point.

so, we talked and played nintendo (including duck hunt and techmobowl) and eventually went to sleep. it was simple and fantastic. and i felt like he honestly did/does like me.

that's where it stands. i will try to maintain this level of calm in the weeks to come.
and to c. anthoney...i appreciate any cents, particularly when it comes from a male. so gratzi.

i am back from crazy town, L.A.

letter to the editor

dear MD,

okay lady friend....
i think you should cut bait with this dude... because you're waaaaay to sucked into him and he clearly is on a completely different plane of existence.
i'm sure that none of his actions were malicious or even thought out at all. in fact, i'd be willing to bet hes completely unaware.
but i dont think that time is going to heal these wounds... you're already so upset by him and you aren't even completely together yet.

i dunno... you're not crazy. i think you just reaaaaaaally want a relationship, and rightfully so. .. but this boy is not the one i don't think.
you need someone attentive and hes clearly on another planet.

thats just my two cents.

dear reader,

sadly...maybe you are right...

letter to the editor

dear MD,

first, let me reply by saying where in the hell did you go where a wax requires you to be on all fours??? I think you got bamboozled on that one and some chick just liked looking at that angle of you. Of course I would know, I've been to several different locations and never would I have hopped off of a table to do that. Furthermore, I think you should chill the fuck out! I understand the emotions and all but damn! I read this and thought I might have seen horns coming out of your head! LOL. He will call...you will hang out...and feel better in the end. Just focus on that day :)

dear reader,

first, let ME reply by saying that since you are related to me, i will excuse your snappiness. secondly, i can't "chill out". if i could, there would be no blog. furthermore, i've already sabotaged myself (something i'm good at). i sent him a text right before i went to bed saying, "dude. your text message response time is worse than my grandmas'. and they're both dead." i'm now waiting to see how that one goes over.

ps. the horns imagery was appropriate. as i said, i've been watching a lot of true blood season 2.

i wish i was asexual

i was about to title this "i wish i was a lesbian", but i'm pretty sure i would be having the same problems i'm having now only with women, and that may very well be worse than having problems with men. so i'll stick with, "i wish i was asexual", so i wouldn't have to deal with either. and if i can't be asexual, then i wish i'd grown up surrounded by male figures who bestowed in me the male love and "fuck you very much" mentality that i so desperately need and so inherently lack. but alas, i am neither asexual nor built on a foundation of male love. if i was either of those, i would not be so pissed off that that boy has been back in this city for nearly 12 hours and he has made no arrangements to see me. motherfucker.
let me start from the beginning.

so today was the day. today was the day that he was set to return after his month long, godforsaken hiatus. today. 1 month and 4 days since he was last here. 1 month and 7 days since the last time i'd seen him. needless to say, i'd been eagerly anticipating this day, as only a naive bitch could. we boy-talked briefly on sunday (boy-talk is my new term for text messaging) about football. i took his boy-talking as a good sign..."ah, yes. he's about to come back. he's reaching out, communicating, getting back in the swing of things. well done, boy. well done." monday passed, and tuesday came, and i was...not ecstatic, but i was genuinely relieved and happy that the day had finally arrived. NOT that i expected to see him today, but at least, i thought, he will be in the same city and my wait will (just about) be over.

a little before 2 this afternoon, i received a text message from him. another good sign, i thought. he's arrived, AND he's letting me know that he's here...AND making arrangements to see me...i hope. the message read:

I'm baaaaack in l.a. Going to stay at my brother's for a few days while he is out of town and i look for a new joint...come on over one of these nights!

now, in theory, i should have been happy about this right? the part of me that reads about boys and their behavior insists that i should have been content with this outreach. but i wasn't. i found something horribly wrong with it. "come on over one of these nights"? "come on over
one of these nights"? what the fuck is that? i'm not trying to install your goddamn bootleg cable or play gin rummy asshole. or see your new fucking kitty cat. i'm trying to catch up on some of that quality time that i've lacked for the past 38 (and counting) days. the same quality time that YOU should have been missing too. "come on over one of these nights" is not a plan. it is some casual bullshit that suggests nonchalance. so as this anger started to bubble up on my insides, the rational side of me (the same one that reads about boys) wanted to know WHY i was so mad.

"why?" that bitch demanded. "why are you mad now? the boy contacted you when he arrived. it's not like he waited a day or two. he invited you to come over (in a general sense). he put an exclamation point at the end of his boy-talk. what the fuck do you want, snatch?"
truth be told, i wanted him to be eager and excited. i wanted him to excited to see me. i wanted him to be as eager to see me as he would be for a free sample of pussy-flavored lollipops. i wanted some goddmamn enthusiasm. i wanted it...and simultaneously knew i wouldn't get it and should never expect it. and maybe...maybe this is his version of enthusiasm. maybe...i told myself. and i was actually sort of willing to run with that idea...NINE HOURS AGO.

17 minutes after he sent his message, i responded with:
Oh, fiiiiiinally. Well, if you are inviting me then i guess you can let me know a day. As long as your brother wont mind.

NINE HOURS ago i said that. NINE HOURS AGO. and he has said what? nothing. now, looka-here. your ass ain't working. you JUST got back in town, so i know you ain't got a bunch of shit to do. you can only look at apartments during the daylight hours, so what THE FUCK are you doing? oh, oh, ohhhh. i get it. oh, you want to do that shit where you pretend that you're not that eager. oh, okay. i get it. OR BETTER YET, maybe you really aren't that interested. fine. either way, you can fuck yourself with that.

god, i sound so evil right now. and i'm sorry. i think it's because i've been watching all these women with claws and fangs fuck people up in my true blood marathon, and i'm experiencing a little life-imitating-art here. anyway, i'm just frustrated. i sort of feel foolish -- for being pissed that he hasn't made a plan but also for waiting all this time and wanting the reunion to be a gloriously anticipated, fantastically realized one for both of us. i wanted it to be more like the NKOTB reunion, not like the NEW EDITION reunion where bobby brown didn't even show up because he was in jail or on crack or just didn't give a shit. furthermore, i feel foolish because earlier this evening i was on all fours in front of this woman with my drawz off, getting hot wax spread down the crack of my ass and then SNATCHED off for the back-half of a brazilian. motherfucker, do you think i did that shit so i could sit on my baby smooth ass WAITING on you to get your shit together? NO! furthermore, the hair on my legs (also waxed) is going to start growing back any moment now, so you are my WASTING TIME AND MY MONEY!!!! fuck.

i know one thing. shit like this will NOT get you laid. so he can forget that. that is if we ever see each other. i'm guessing we will, but if he lets enough time go by, i'm going to be so pissed that i will undoubtedly have a stank attitude and say some shit that they boy books tell you you should never say and then he'll run the other way and the whole shit will be ruined.
i'm over this whole game bullshit. and if it's not a game, then he's just being dumb, and he should know that. i will say that i do feel better having gotten this all out...

IN CONCLUSION, this day that was supposed to be met with great joy and anticipation has actually stung...both emotionally and physically.

i am going to wash the wax remnants off my legs and ass, L.A.

but wait, there’s more

after my post yesterday, my friend and i went downtown to an alumni event for a very yuppie, east coast university we both attended. i was swimming in men wearing dockers and button-downs with Mai Tais in their hands. fortunately, i hadn’t banked on their being hot, eligible men there, but it was still disappointing nonetheless that there really weren’t any (save for one or two who could have been if i really needed them to be). i was in the midst of idle chatter with people i didn’t know when my phone rang. i looked at it, didn’t recognize the out-of-state number and figured it was (again) one of those crazy solicitors i get who call me from random states (to throw me off their scent, i suppose). so i answered and immediately hung up because i didn’t even want to bother having a voicemail from them.

but then…it hit me. missouri? wait. i know someone who is in missouri…could it be? did he just call me? maybe? holy shit. and i hung up on him! i excused myself and hurried outside where i would actually be able to hear. i redialed the number only to be greeted with a message from sprint about how they were “redirecting my call to customer service.” i hung up and tried again. again with the customer service shit. gotdamnit, sprint. i know there’s probably a bill due, and you want your money, but this shit is important. furthermore, i’m still on the family plan, so you need to direct your billing inquiries and scare tactics to my mom…that’s right, my mom.

i ran back inside, asked my friend for her phone and tried again, hoping that the jersey number that was about to appear on his caller id wouldn’t prevent him from answering. if it was in fact him…it totally just could have been the wrong number…
a woman answered. damn.

“hello?”
“hi. did someone just call me?”
“who is this?” (said in a tone that read, “skank, why are you calling my house? i will cut you.” personally, i hate when people call and ask “did someone just call me?”. obviously, if you don’t know the number and they didn’t leave a message, it was the wrong number or it wasn’t that important. however, in this situation, it WAS that important.)
i gave her my name in my most pleasant voice. after all, if this DID turn out to be his mother, i didn’t want to start out with her hating me. though, i had the feeling she already did. i checked the time and added two hours. it wasn’t THAT late. but maybe she goes to bed super early, i thought, and i just woke her up. i felt very high school and feared i was about to get in trouble. there was a dropping of the phone, some rustling, indecipherable speech, a clicking of lines…all the while, i’m just waiting for her to come back and declare, “hell no, nobody called you. and do you know what time it is, young lady?”

but that didn’t happen. instead, the boy appeared on the other end. like magic. and i was delighted. and we TALKED. i did do the right thing by mentioning that i was at an event downtown (you know the whole “sound busy” thing that everyone tells you to do), but then i stood on the sidewalk for the next half an hour and talked to him so clearly i wasn’t that damn busy. we talked about him, we talked about me, about fantasy football, and the weather, and food, and animals…

i can safely say, with no neuroses and no second guesses, that this conversation was normal. deliciously normal and fun, and i feel, truly feel, that everything might actually be okay. i know exactly when he’s returning, he mentioned seeing my new place and making dinner, blah blah…so everything really, really might be fine. and i might not have to be a spaz anymore (notice i inserted might into all these statements). but honestly, for the first time in a month, i feel like i can exhale and nothing is going to fall apart.

i am thankful for small miracles, L.A.