Stripped Naked: Dating a Smarty Pants

Stripped Naked

 

After being lost for weeks (months? years?), adrift at sea, perpetually pounded by the waves of idiocy and boredom, I had met a man, the Scientist, who felt a bit like a life raft.

We had met on Thursday.

We had had a second date on Sunday.

I thanked him for having me over for dinner.

He said Glad you enjoyed.  Me too.  Thanks for coming.

For the next few days I would be busy preparing for, and then attending, a conference at Yale University, but, I suggested, Maybe when I get back from the conference I can make you dinner at my place?

He responded when are you leaving? and then Have lots of fun.

 

Okay.  Now, admittedly, I found it a tad off putting that the response wasn’t a resounding Yes, that sounds amazing you hot beautiful intelligent funny magnificent creature, you but I just assumed that it was an oversight and that responding at all in a manner that both asked a question and was considerate was good enough, no?

Five days later, home from the conference (and unfortunately having caught a cold from my travel mates), I texted him.

 

Hey 🙂 How’s it going?

Hi Victoria.  How was your trip?  I’m going crazy!  Deadlines for all postdoc fellowships are due in 10 days and I just started the whole process.

The trip was good (except the other two girls were sick with colds and now I am too – I’m really hoping it doesn’t last long.)  Yikes about the fellowship deadlines but I’m sure you’ll nail it 😉  What do you have to do for your applications?  Did you want to hang out again as soon as I’m feeling better?

Hi Victoria.  Sorry, I worked from 9 to 1am yesterday and I didn’t even look at my phone.  For my applications I have to do a million things, including writing a grant proposal, academic CV, etc.  It’s madness for me right now.  I hope I survive.  I can message you when the whole thing is over.  Glad you had a good trip.  Hope you feel better soon.

Sounds good, and good luck with all the applications 🙂

 

I mean, after all, it did sound good.  It would give me 10 days to relax and get better and he would be full of relief after completing the applications (which, as a fellow grad student, I 100% get the pressure and need to accumulate that funding).

But I will admit, I was feeling a tad, insecure.

I mean sure, our first and second dates had gone really well, hadn’t they?  And while logically, I understand putting school before…everything.  I mean hell, that’s basically the reason I hadn’t gone on a date in over a year until Skinny Jeans and then the Scientist.  Emotionally though, I’m an impatient petulant child who wants what I want when I want it.  That or I’ve just seen He’s Just Not That Into You too many times and bristle at even the slightest…slight.

I was talking about this on a phonecall to my mother, who then promptly told me You sound a bit clingy.  Hearing which set me straight within seconds.  The truth is, I think I was just so damn excited to finally be going out on dates with a man who didn’t think it appropriate and/or interesting to say things like hey hot tits and ask me questions and form full sentences and stuff, that I had gotten really wrapped up in it all.  But the moment my mom said those words, I immediately stopped checking his dating profile (after all, on OKCupid, the other person can see that shit and though I’d only done it twice, it was two times too many in my book, plus I didn’t need to know whether or not he was logging in or even if he was dating other people.  Just as I expect men to respect my freedom and privacy, I should respect theirs.  And thus I did).  I also just immediately relaxed.  It’s bizarre to think that a little bit of logic and reality can affect your emotional state so completely but in the space of a few seconds I’d gone from Eager Edith to Relaxed Regina.

 

 

He’d text or he wouldn’t, and in 10 days I would know.

 

 

 

And on the tenth day…I got this:

Rejection

 

 

And just like that it was over.  I was dumped.  My hopes of dating a smarty pants were stripped naked and thrust in the dirty hamper.  And the worst part, is that it took me awhile to see this as a full on blow off.

Upon first reading I took note of the length, the apologia, the confirmation of the pleasantries of meeting me, the well wishes.  But upon further inspection I’ve, sadly, come to see it for what it really is…a bullshit blowoff.

And because you know I can’t let a dating lesson go unmentioned, I have to say, yet again, to the rejectors, to the dumpers, and the kick ’em to the curbers…

It is 100% okay to not want to date someone

You are allowed to like or dislike anyone you want

You can make your own decisions, you don’t even need to justify your reasons

But FOR FUCK SAKES just rip the fucking bandaid like a goddamn grownup.

 

See, here’s the thing kiddo (and yes, this is me infantilizing you [in the universal form] for your infantile behavior), I don’t need your reassurance.  We went on two dates, I barely fucking know you.  I don’t need you to hold my hand, I won’t have a breakdown, no one is committing suicide on your watch.  So there’s no need to gloss it all up with how great it was to meet me or the well wishes etc.  Because while you think you’re being clear and concise, I’m thinking you’re just too polite and kind to suggest I wait around for two months to date you.

Short and sweet, rip it fast, rip it clear, be honest.

I don’t like you enough to keep going out with you.

I don’t feel a connection with you and don’t wish to go out again.

I’m no longer interested.

 

Anything along these lines works fine.  Don’t talk about friendship (unless you genuinely want it).  Don’t talk about how great they are.  Don’t wish them specific success, thus reminding them how much you were paying attention to their conversation.  Don’t give excuses (because those can so easily be excused).

Because instead of immediately going, yep, he definitely doesn’t like me, after reading that text my first thought was, oh, well maybe he’ll call in 2 months because at this rate I could potentially still be single then, or even perhaps he and I could be friends or something.

 

But he doesn’t want that.  He doesn’t want me.  And that’s totally fine.  Onto the next right?  right?  right?  hello?

 

*gets consumed by cloud of dating disappointment*

10 Easy Ways to Get Over a Breakup

How to get over a breakup

 

Break-up got you down?

3 dates and he ditched?

Ego bruised and beaten?

Pride battered and fried?

Mmmm fried.

 

Here’s a couple easy ideas for when your love troubles have you putting on your ice-cream-eating-pants.

 

1.  Donate blood.  What?!?!  Who just became a super philanthropic amazing person that the whole world should worship for her selfless deeds???  You did!  Okay okay so you took 6 cookies and shoved them in your purse before asking for a second juice box but times are tough and since you no longer have a man to buy you dinners you’re going to have to get creative with your funds.  Nobody can blame you for being thrifty.

 

2.  Find a good cause to support.  And yes, getting a super high calorie coffee beverage and sitting outside your local firehouse to smile at the pretty fireman (and thus brightening their day) is totally supporting them.  It would obviously be best if you could raise some funds for burn victims or something but either way…we know you’re doing your best.  You’re practically Erin Brockovich!

 

3.  Go for a run.  And yes running from the cops definitely counts.  We get it.  You’re broke.  You’ve got nothing to lose.  And you were just joking when you told that bank teller to (and I quote) “Give me all your money lady!!!” (and pointed your fake gun at her)…how were you supposed to know she wouldn’t get your sarcasm.  It’s not your fault she handed over that big stack of 50s!  So go ahead and get your jog on…all that exercise will release some endorphins.  So will using that money to buy heroin but I would suggest using it for a gym membership instead.  Just a thought.  Run Forest Run!

 

4.  Make a voodoo doll.  Don’t freak out, it won’t actually work but handicrafts are a good use of your post-heartbreak time.  They build hand-eye coordination, give you something to focus on, and most importantly allow you to pretend you’re not all alone (what’s that debbie daisy doll?  no I don’t mean you…you are excellent company for me on a Saturday night…I love spending time with you…I just meant for this poor loser…she’ll need a doll…you and me are friends…you’re totally real)

 

5.  Bake a cake.  Obviously I mean BUY a cake.  Eat it.  Isn’t that delicious.  Mmmmm…now go throw it up because you won’t be able to do number 6 if you keep eating all these cakes, fatty.  Hahaha just kidding!! You’re beautiful just the way you are and you know who is going to appreciate that???  All the hot guys who want to sleep (I mean value) you. 

 

6.  Sleep with a hot guy.  Take pictures.  (As souvenirs, not to send to your ex, that would be pathetic and creepy).  If you can’t get a hot guy, sleep with a funny guy.  If you can’t get that, sleep with a moderately good looking guy with average intelligence.  Still can’t get one of those???  Okay well just try to fill one of the 4 major requirements.  Hot.  Funny.  Smart.  Rich.  Anything else and you’re just settling.  But that’s okay too.  Hurray for settling.  Is there any cake left???

 

7.  Find a wingchick.  They can be hotter or funnier than you but not both.  And make sure they can say….”haaaaavvvvvvveeeee you met *insert your name*?” convincingly and with pizzazz.  If they need training, make them watch videos of How I Met Your Mother over and over again with you until they get it.  Make her aware that she’s Barney and YOU’RE TED.  She can get laid on her own time!  If she’s funnier than you, drink only diet sodas and eat fruit.  If she’s hotter than you go ahead and eat chocolate.  It’ll level the playing field.  

 

8.  Join an online dating site.  Puh-leeeze!  As if you’re not already on one!  Everybody is on one these days.  And that’s as it fucking should be. Now start searching more specifically for your next date.  In the career field type in “counsellor” or “psychologist” or if you really want to shoot for the moon “psychiatrist” (they can prescribe the good drugs).  Either way you’ll now be able to both date and save money on therapy.  Additionally, if you ever pay for any of the dates you can put the expense under “health care” on your taxes.  That’s totally legit.  I swear.

 

9.  Cease all contact.  No stalking on facebook.  Don’t look at his Twitterfeed.  No googling.  No username searching.  Just.  Let.  Him.  Fade.  From.  Memory.  Sure the first day or two will be hard but before you know it you’ll be back to cruising the guy who sells hot dogs on the corner and asking for yours “extra plump” and Mr.what’s-his-face won’t even be a second thought…not even when you see those tiny little cocktail weenies being served at an office party.

 

10.  Read every single Something She Dated post all the way from the beginning.  I’m telling you…nothing says ‘your troubles ain’t so bad’ like reading about the time I dated a garbage man and he tried to talk about meat while we were making out.  Or that time I made out with a Trucker.  Who then had sore balls.  And then…well…I won’t spoil it for you.  But trust me.  I take the cake.  No seriously.  Gimme the fucking cake *points fake bank robbing gun at you* GIVE IT HERE BITCH!!!!

How to Handle Rejection by Getting Rejected: a Not-a-Love-Story by the Urban Dater

Guest Post

 

[dropcap]I[/dropcap]’m a sucker for punishment, which is why I like it rough and tend to date women who take lots of steroids or participate in Mixed Martial Arts (or MMA to you educated and in-the-know types). If they kicks me in the beans, that’s cool; if they call me dirty names like pencil dick or Susan I’m also fine with that. The more demeaning the mo’ betta, in my opinion.

However, being a sucker for punishment comes at a cost, sometimes. Sometimes it’s hard to know when to give in and walk away. What I’m referring to is fighting the good fight to win a special someone over. Sometimes that special someone thinks you’re a good for nuthin’, nobody, ass-face. And that’s it. There’s very little one can do to turn the tide of that opinion. So what does one do, when handling rejection? Well, children of the corn, I’ll help you with that.

There was this gal I was in to. I found her on a dating site. We went out for a date, had a reasonably good time and when I drove her back to her car, I tried to kiss her only to find her cheek. The one on her face, unfortunately. I was let down obviously, but she replied “Hey, look, I had a lot of fun, let’s do this again.” I said that sounded like a good idea.  However, I was going to leave the ball in her court. If she really wanted to hang out with me, then she could make a move. And make a move she did.

We went out for dinner, just the two of us and then we met up with a couple of her friends for drinks afterward. I met one friend of hers that night, a very nice gal, who insisted that this girl I was going out with (let’s call her Wilma) was very much into me and that I had to keep on trying. That was interesting, I thought. As we pull up to Wilma’s apartment, I tried again for a kiss, what I got was a quick one-armed hug and she said “later man, I’ll call you this week.” Hmmmm. Thus far, I’m batting 0 for 2. No bueno.

It would take some time for me to try at romancing this girl again. Several months actually. During that time I dated other gals and what have you. It was one night out with Wilma and her bestie that I was again told “Dude, wtf? Why haven’t you made a move on Wilma? She REALLY likes you!!!” Well, that was news to me because that’s not the vibe I got. However, by this time, I was so wrapped up in this woman that I needed a definitive answer; I needed to know and I could no longer wait, otherwise, I was going to cut something off of my body and send it to her.

That day of reckoning came a week later. We went out for a drink and that’s when I “manned-up” and told the woman how I felt and that I needed to know where she was at… So let me give you the following options for what may have happened, and you choose which one you think it was:

  • She sat there silent for a few minutes and finished her pint of Guinness in two gulps
  • She grabbed my hand and said, “I was wondering when you were going to tell me that!”
  • She told me to fuck off and called me a loser dick faced platypus.

If you guessed the first option, you’d have been right. If you guessed that I’d rather she went with option three, that would also be correct.

I got a non-answer from her; and that, my friends, was that. I tried and I didn’t succeed. But I was satisfied with that because there would be no guessing that this girl liked me or not. She didn’t like me in that way. Period. But at least I tried. And you know what? I rarely thought about it, only recalling what happened in my stories of failure. Heh. That was about five years ago. Last, year, at a party, a good buddy of mine, who was close to that situation confided to me that Wilma told him something in confidence. What he revealed was that she liked me as a friend, but just didn’t like me “in that way.” By that time, it didn’t matter; but it was good to get something of an “official” reason.

Long story short: The best way to handle rejection, is to get rejected. Most never try and, thus, never get rejected.

Alex, over at the Urban Dater, is a man that lives in Southern California, and in the dreams of women everywhere if they know what’s good for them!  His use of inappropriate jokes and ridiculous innuendo have found in me a love I never thought I could bear, but bear it I shall.  Wait.  What?!  This bio is supposed to be about him, my bad.  Alex is rad.  I saw it in the dictionary.  Just try and prove me wrong.

Rip the Bandaid, Bitch! (Part Two)

Head Desk

So like I was saying.  I had hoped he would call.  After whatever blah blah excuse he had given me.  But he didn’t.  At least.  Not that night.  The next morning however.  I was woken up by a text.  Well more exactly I was woken up by Alice Cooper blaring
 ♫ Poison, You’re poison running through my veins, You’re poison, I don’t wanna break these chains ♫ 
And in case you’re not a long time reader.  This is where I have to mention again.  I have the cell phone from hell.  I live in the Bermuda fucking triangle.  This is NOT an exaggeration.  I have THE worst luck with cell phones and reliable service.  So it is not uncommon to miss text messages.  To get them long after they were sent.  To get them in indecipherable pieces.  Just Sayin’.

This morning was unlikely to be any different.  When there it was.  Showing up.  Coming through.  The piece of a puzzle of messages.  Only.  Something like the middle.  That’s it.  Fuck.

Easy to say, especially when you 
care for someone.  Then as I 
delayed it, it became harder and 
harder to call.  I’m spending.

What.  The.  Fuck.  This is obviously only a piece of the message.  So I text back saying as much.  Either to resend or call.  He calls.  FUCK.  I answer.  It’s a bit awkward.  Plus it’s also a bit hazy.  It’s fucking like 8:20am and I’m a student.  Plus just in general not a morning person.

The gist of what he says is this.

He thinks I’m awesome.
There’s just something missing.
Like chemistry I ask?
But he can’t describe it
He doesn’t know what he wants
blah blah blah
He wants to be friends.
I should give him a call….

and then I interrupt him.  Ahh.  I’m going to leave that in your court buddy.  After all you’re the one who just said he didn’t like me enough lol.  No way am I going to spend more being concerned about whether or not I should call someone.  Though I say this in a somewhat less bitchy fashion.  We chatter on a bit more.  NYE is mentioned.  I say MegaLove is coming up to spend it with me.  I offer no further details.  We end the call.  I send a quick text thanking him for letting me know.  Not because I felt he deserved it.  But if I’m going to be a big proponent of people being honest with each other and ripping the fucking bandaid off, I can’t turn around and be all bitter.  I have to keep it going.  Word of mouth advertising.

Rip the bandaid, bitch! 

By the way.  Almost as soon as the call was over.  Suddenly my phone blows up with text messages.  Out of order no less.  But I’m not retarded.  I know how to piece a puzzle together.  And here is.  The bandaid ripping (sort of) puzzle.

Sorry for being so distant.  I’m just not feeling it and don’t want waste your time, plus go any further physically.  I should have called but it’s not that easy to say, especially when you care for someone.  Then as I delayed it, it became harder and harder to call.  I’m spending the day with DaughtersName, and leaving town later on today.  Take care!


Ouch.  For reference I find the care about someone bit to be fucked up retarded like and the go any further physically to mean that he wasn’t attracted to me anymore.  So there ya go.  Fuck Me.  Or not I guess.  Exit stage left.

 

Vancouver Dating Blog:  Dating Vancouver a Better Place, One “Something” at a Time

Rip the Bandaid, Bitch! (Part One)

Dating Mistakes

Maybe I’ve dissected it a thousand times.  Maybe I barely paid attention when it was happening.  Maybe just too much time has passed.  Maybe the continuous over-analyzation of the details was like metaphorically pulling at the thread of my memory sweater.  I pulled too hard.  I pulled too fast.  And it all fucking fell apart.  My memory that is.  Because I swear to you people.  If it wasn’t for text messaging as some sort of tangible record of the events.  I might not be able to tell this story.  Poof!  Like it never even happened.  But lucky (or not so lucky) for us all, I do indeed have the tangible words that bring this tale to a……well just let me tell you.

So The Nick Name and I had had our 2nd Date.  I’d been the dirty slut sexy vixen you all know and love me as.  And things were great.  Except.  Well.  Ya know how some chicks dissect every fucking detail?  See I only do that when things are negative.  When things have a positive result.  I skip along.  Tra la la la.  Like everything is draped in cotton candy and sugar coated in icing.  Tra la la la.  Skip.  Skip.  Hop.  Only the thing is.  When I retell these stories to you.  Some of the icing sugar has shaken off.  And I feel a bit retarded if I don’t point out the things I know should have been obvious.  Like somehow I need to prove to you guys I’m not totally retarded.  Just naively hopeful.

So the thing is.  Even though after we were finished messing around so to speak.  There was what I would call cuddling.  Not spooning.  Because it was more like face to face.  Well actually more like I was on my stomach and he was beside me on his side.  And we were just kind of curled up kiss kiss wrapped around each other kiss kiss just lying there.  Eyes closed.  Honestly trying not to fall asleep.  And as super pathetic as this is going to sound.  I kind of wanted to keep laying there.  But I could feel it.  Feel something.  Feel him.  Dude wanted to go to sleep.  Now don’t get me wrong he didn’t do anything douchey or awful.  But I could just tell.  And so I got up to go.  He got up with me.  Talked about our date for the coming Wednesday still being on.  And walked me to the door.

And there.  Right in that moment.  I knew.  Not good.  Not good at all.  Because the thing of the thing is.  He didn’t walk me to my car.  And bee tee dub.  It was late.  It was dark.  It was fucking New Westminster.  A more residential than sketchy area but please.  And the thing that allowed me at the time to discount this.  Ignore it.  Move along.  Was the fact that up until this dating foray that is my 2010 experience, I wouldn’t have expected a boy to walk me to my car.  Sure on the first date.  But after that.  Not really.  The door and seal it with a kiss?? obviously.  But put your shoes on come out to my car?  Not really.  But the thing is.  I’m not 21 anymore.  And I’m certainly not dating 21 year olds.  These boys are damn near 40 and they know what’s up.  They know what being a gentleman means.  And not feeling desireous/compelled to walk me to my car?  a bad sign.  That I ignored.

Sidebar.  The logic behind WHY I ignored all this will come in a wholly separate post (yes it’s that lengthy and complex lol) so just bee tee dub.

But it’s whatevs.  I had fun.  I’m ignoring the one bad sign in favor of all the good ones.  Carrying on.  Boxing day rolls in.  There is texting.  I’m italics.

4:00pm

Hey 🙂 How’s your day going?
Humming along!  And yours?
Great! lots of catching up with friends and then just getting ready for Seattle/McChord AFB tomorrow.

Radio Silence.


6:45pm
You around?
7:29pm
I’m at my buddies for dinner and the game.  Call you later!
Is it just me or are those exclamations getting irritating.  Doesn’t he know that there is a big difference between call you later.  call you later?  and call you later!  Stop it.  Girl over-analyzing.  Fuck me.  Stop.

Sounds good.


10:18pm
Hey cutie just a heads up I’m going to bed pretty soon, getting up at 6am tomorrow 🙂
In my defense.  My cell phone doesn’t work while I’m in the states…which is where I was planning to be for about 24 hours.  And he didn’t know that.  So while I realize this seems overzealous texting.  I had wanted to talk to him before I went so I could tell him.  Plus in all honesty.  If he liked me it wouldn’t seem so overzealous.

Radio Silence.


Dec. 27th.  I wake up with bells on and head down to Seattle.  Which I’ll tell you all about.  New friends.  MegaLove.  Etcetera.  But in another post.  This  post is all about TheNickName.  So let’s get back to it.  I arrive home from Seattle in the wee morning hours of the 28th.  And when I turn my phone back on.  Obviously expecting it to be blown up with…Hey and then hello? and then further you arounds? and perhaps even are you ignoring me?s.  Only it doesn’t.  Silence.  Okay well not total silence.  Texts from friends etc.  But from TheNickName.  Silence.  I mean.  What.  The.  Fuck.  I go to sleep.


Later in the day…I get a text from him (me in italics again).  Fucking weak ass shit.

How is or was Seattle?  I have to bail on tomorrow, I’m going out of town tomorrow after work for the weekend! Sorry!
Fucking exclamation marks!!!!!!!! Sorry!???? It’s like he’s yelling or something.  Too many exclamation marks especially when they don’t belong is like SOMEONE TYPING IN ALL CAPS!!!! WHO ARE YOU YELLING AT?!?!?!

Okay…do you have time to talk?



Pathetic I know.  But in my defense.  This was sort of me trying to decipher if he really was bailing for last minute out town pl….fuck…even as I type it…it sounds too stupid.  Fuck it was just pathetic. We all slip.  Lots.  Don’t judge.  People in glass houses and all that.

I’m at a buddies, watching the Canada game.  I will try to call you after its over!
No worries.


At some point it gets late.  I’m going to bed.  Fuck this noise.  All of me understands he’s not swooning over me.  Most of me understands he’s not dying to spend time with me.  Some of me understands that he probably doesn’t even like me enough to continue seeing each other (this behavior being evidence).  But none of me can grasp how someone I took it slow…but not too slow…with…and have cute conversations with…can go from…good to go and super cute and totally into me….to…total blow off.  Now to be clear.  I understand it happens.  I get it in theory that sometimes people just don’t like either people.  But at this exact moment in my defense (I’ve had to say that a lot this post….damn…exclamation point!)…I couldn’t quite make the logic fit…the illogicality of people and emotions and behaviors and whatever the fuck was going on with this dude.  So I made one last pathetic attempt.  Because the truth is.  Me and him.  We were better on the phone.  Just Sayin’
Really hope you get a chance to call before you leave town cause I’m feeling pretty weird about you cancelling again and we seem to be better on the phone.


To Be Continued….Here:  Rip the Bandaid, Bitch! (Part Two)

Vancouver Dating Blog:  Dating Vancouver a Better Place, One “Something” at a Time

 

She Says I’m Stubborn Like It’s a Bad Thing

I can't believe I went out with him

You’re stubborn. You’ve actually been really stubborn with all the boys this summer

My friend.  Says this.  A week after I wrangle a reason out of Trucker Joe for the continued attention but discontinued physical contact also known as date #7 .  We’re having coffee and I’m trying to wrap my head around this whole being friends with Trucker Joe thing.  Because the thing of the thing is.  When I left his place.  He had me fully convinced that he thought I was the awesomest of all awesome chicks but that he just didn’t love me and was still all messed up from his divorce.  But here I was a week later.  After 7 weeks in a row where he had made the effort/date all but one time.  With excited utterings of friendship fresh on my ears.  And no contact.  Okay well almost none.

On our last date I told him I had gone to Lady Gaga the night before.  He didn’t know who she was.  I know.  I know.  That should have been a dealbreaker right there.  But I digress.  So I posted a video.  A little…Poker Face.  On his page.  And he responded by thanking me.  And saying something like he actually didn’t even mind it that much lol.  But aside from that nothing.  And here I am thinking.  Hmm.  Was what he said all bullshit?  Because even since getting home that night it hadn’t sat quite right.  I mean.  I get not wanting to be in a relationship because your divorce fucked you up.  But not wanting to say…bang away the pain…I’d never even really heard of a guy being like that.  But maybe.  I mean I’m sure.  I guess it’s possible.  And the split did seem awfully traumatic.  But still.  I mean really?  So I tried to ignore those thoughts.  Because they always say you should take a person at their word.

And here it was a week later.  With no real contact.  No asking how are you?  No making plans to hang out.  As friends obviously.  But for a guy to spend 7 weeks hanging out with me because he thought I was just that awesome it would seem weird to suddenly cease the contact.  Because.  I mean.  I’d understand hanging out that long if you’re getting laid.  But to spend that much time with someone you just want to be buddies with?  That’s just bizarre.  I probably should take him at his word that he thinks I’m that awesome.  Yes no?  And that’s when my friend piped in.  About how stubborn I am.  About how stubborn I’ve been all summer with the “somethings“.

So I decide.  If we’re doing the buddy thing afterall.  I’ll just contact him.  Because that’s what buddies do.  They don’t sit around allowing the other buddy to make the first contact.  They’re friends.  They just dial it up.  So that’s what I did.  Well sort of.  I mean.  No dialing.  Just facebooking.

SSD August 31 at 1:14pm
Hey kiddo 🙂
What’s new? How was your week?
SSD 

Trucker Joe August 31 at 1:33pm
good SSD…. how r u???? i’m sorry bout things, i didn’t mean to b cruel and i didn’t think u were that into me,i didnt want to lead u on in anyway i just really liked hanging with u…. altho i like reading the blog, (u can be F.N. hilarious) i feel like a bit of a heel after reading it:(

what u been up to?

SSD August 31 at 1:53pm
Aww I wish we were having this conversation in person…because I don’t really know how to ease your burden without just saying the truth (which then makes me sound like a total jackass lol)…but basically don’t sweat it…and you were right…I wasn’t that into you…okay that came out wrong…it wasn’t like I wasn’t into you…but it’s not like I was into you either…I mean we barely know each other still…

Things to remember about me:


1. I’m not like other chicks (who are quick to think there’s a connection, fall in like, in love, etc. get super intense and all those other shenannigans)


2. Writing…is writing. Sometimes it gets dressed up. Sometimes it gets dressed down. It’s still the truth. Just better.

But seriously…don’t sweat it…bear in mind how I talk about “the hot guy from my gym” or the comments on that picture my friend just tagged of me on here of this swoony security gaurd…these are boys I’ve never EVEN talked to and my reaction to them…ya know…sometimes talk is just talk 🙂 because it’s fun…and this is my summer of fun ya know?

So is this why there’s been a lack of harassment on your part to hang out with me?…

Trucker Joe August 31 at 2:28pm
lol…. no i’m on nights for a while sooo my sched has changed a bit….. when i’m back too days i’d like to buy u a coffee or something….


the blog is awesome, i like to read it, u r soo talented and as u say it some of that shit is funny:)

SSD August 31 at 5:26pm
Sounds good….and thanks my blog aims to please 😛

So I do have to ask though…before we get too deep into the friendzone and it becomes weird to talk about…but I can’t not ask…A…because I’m a curious person…B. because my readers will ask and I’ll need something to explain it 😛

What was with the kissing? like…if you’re not attracted to me…why was there any kissing? Was it just a case of…well…I’ll just give it a try and hope an attraction to her grows? Did my one time mention of it via text make you feel super pressured or something? Did you just do it as some sort of misguided attempt to placate me so that I wouldn’t stop hanging out with you? Another reason I haven’t thought of? And honestly I’m asking in the most non-critical but super curious…I have to know the answer to things kind of way 🙂

Anyways hope the night shifts aren’t too brutual for ya 🙂

Radio Silence. 

Dead Air.  

The end of days kind of quiet.

Even the crickets stopped moving.

 

Vancouver Dating Blog:  Dating Vancouver a Better Place, One “Something” at a Time