Facebook and my frustration

MMI have a trigger on Facebook. It’s a picture of a friend.

Every time I see that picture I feel bad.

I’m conditioned to respond in a negative way to that picture.

The other day, said friend was posting all over Facebook. Not just the usual post here and there but a full on onslaught of posts.

I was beside myself with discomfort.

Not because of the content, just because of THAT DAMN PHOTO.

My BFF thinks I should just unfriend this person and remove the stimulus that makes me feel bad.

I can’t seem to bring myself to do that.

I hate burning bridges just in case down the road I feel differently.

And down the road I ALWAYS feel differently

So I guess I’ll just have to suck it up. Grin and bear it. Deal.

It’s not like I can ask my friend to stand still while I throw donuts at him/her.

Right?

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And speaking of burning bridges, guess who added me as a friend on Google+?

Edward. Yes, that Edward. Of the $1000 date fame. And the only man to tell me my life had “too much drama.”

Boo. I’ve felt so bad about that comment ever since he said it, and now he’s my friend again? Yay!

Maybe his attitude toward me has softened.

I sure hope so.

I could use a deep, cleansing breath.

The one where she gets screwed :-(

photo(3)Okay, so my heart didn’t get broken this week, but my hopes did get dashed.

This week I sent a text to Edward and when I didn’t hear back for three days, I figured he was sending me a message.  So I sent a polite “Hope you’re okay.  Wish we could say goodbye properly.  Good luck, you’re a good man” message to him.  I woke up the next morning to a scathing text from Edward saying there was “too much drama” with me and “Goodbye.”  Apparently he’d left his phone in a friends’ car and had to drive to Discovery Bay to retrieve it.

Too much drama?  Too much drama would have been me calling him names or bitching at him for not texting.  I did none of those things.  I sent a polite and friendly goodbye.

It may come as a surprise, but I was sad that this is how my friendship with Edward ended.  But in a way it was a relief, since our friendship made me feel like a second class citizen.  Unwanted.  Tolerated.  Definitely not valued.  So this was a blessing.

Then THIS happened.

I titled this month’s banner “unblunder:  so screwed I should be covered in ky” and I realized at the time that I was tempting fate to really eff me over this month, but I optimistically hoped for a more literal translation – that I would meet someone and literally be screwed.  But as fate would have it that was not meant to be.  Because Austin, who I have been hungering for, suddenly stopped texting me.  And that never bodes well.  In truth, I knew something was going on when I went two days without hearing a peep from him.

And today he finally got in touch with me to tell me that he’s in a monogamous relationship with another woman.  A woman who has been his friend for a while and finally worked up the courage to ask him to date he when he discussed the possibility of going out with me.

What can I say?  I am so happy that they have found each other but I am so disappointed that I did not get the chance to even kiss Austin.  And with a mind like his, I would have been stimulated in and out of the bedroom.  But as they say “the universe is unfolding exactly as it should…” Whether or not you realize it.

I found myself feeling strangely saddened and getting teary.  First Edward, now Austin.  Is everyone finding love but me?

And why am I always so over-the-top with my sexuality?  Why is it so easy for me to expose my skin but so difficult to expose my heart?

I reached out to my ex Steve.  Told him I was having a bad day and would he text with me.  And he did for a little while.  But I realized that more than anything I wanted to have someone who I could talk to when I’m feeling low.  Who I could share my feelings with,  not just small talk.

And I haven’t met that person yet.

For Austin:

Just friends?!?!

20140130-204156.jpgIt’s been almost 2 months since Edward dropped the F-Bomb on me…

FRIENDS.

Since then we’ve talked briefly and texted EVEN MORE briefly.

Am I the only one who gets frustrated when someone texts me only to barely respond to my replies?

Here’s an exchange:

Edward:  Last Friday was steak and blowjob day and I didn’t get either 😦

Me:  Lol I’m not going to say what I’m tempted to say and instead complain that I haven’t had sex since weeks before our first date.  Totally sexually frustrated 🙂 [Thinking:  WTF?!?!?]

Me:  Okay I am going to say it.  It’s not like you didn’t know where to go to get steak and a blowjob 😉

Me:  By the way, I am getting drunk on Cabernet tonight.  1 glass down, 3 more to go.

Edward:  Ha ha.  go easy on the wine.  Drink some water before you go to sleep.

Me:  I’m only going to have two glasses.  Sigh. I’m getting old.

Me:  FYI you can make ANY night S&BJ night. [Implying he and his gf can have a DO OVER]

Then nothing.  Some dialogue huh?  Not only was I left thinking wtf, I was also left thinking WTF?!

I wonder what it means to have a guy text you then barely respond.

  • Is he embarrassed to text me?
  • Is he super busy?
  • Is he not happy to chat?
  • Was I too flirty? [FYI, he does this all the time regardless of the topic so even though I know I was flirty I think this is not the reason.  Plus HE started the flirty talk with his S&BJ talk]

Why not be FRIENDLY and write more than 2 sentences?  Why not actually carry on a conversation with me?  I wonder if he knows it makes me feel unimportant and marginalized to communicate this way?

I’m curious if any of the guys out there have any insight into this kind of behavior and what it means.  You’re invited to leave your thoughts in the comments section or email me at michelle@unblunder.com

That texting thing we do

imageThere are a few men I’d like to text right now.

Wine Man and

Edward.

I’d like to text Wine Man because I think he’s sexy and smart and funny and I’d like to find out what he thinks of me.

I’d like to text Edward to tell him about Wine Man.

I’m pretty excited about him.

But not so excited about his lack of texting.

Of course, not everyone goes from 0 to 100 in 5 seconds like I do. I understand this and I try to adjust my speed accordingly.

But I can’t text Wine Man because if I did and he didn’t respond I might go down the “texting spiral” familiar or so many of us.  It goes a little something like this:

I send a text message.

  • 30 minutes later: So he’s playing it cool. All right.
  • 1 hour, 30 minutes later: Oh, he must be working.
  • 2 hours later: Maybe it didn’t go through???
  • 2 hours, 30 minutes later: Ummmmm….
  • 3 hours later: I guess he didn’t need to reply. There was no question mark.
  • 3 hours, 30 minutes later: It’s cool. We’re all busy. I’ve got stuff to do.
  • 4 hours later: Are you serious?
  • 4 hours, 30 minutes later: Whatever. I’m so over it.
  • 5 hours later: I’m awesome. People love to have text banter with me.
  • 5 hours, 30 minutes later: I dare him to text me. I will ignore him.
  • 6 hours later: He texted back. Awwww. That was kinda sweet.

And so instead of risking THAT WHOLE SCENE, instead I will sit her blogging, trying not to think about how much I’d like to talk with Wine Man right now…

…and checking my phone every 30 seconds 🙂

Say something

20140125-103901.jpgBeing JUST FRIENDS with Edward did not work out so well for me.  He, on the other hand, is sitting pretty – confident in the knowledge that he was wanted by not just one but two women.  Me and a 57 year old.

That’s right folks.  He picked the 57 year old.  Old enough to have been my baby sitter.  Older than my birthparents.  Sigh.

Do I sound angry?  That’s because I am.  I’m angry at me.  I was a total idiot and a tool and now I’m paying the price for it.  Not only do I not get to date Edward anymore, but I also have to date total idiots and tools.  I suppose it’s a little divine justice.  You get what you give.

Only, you know, I thought I was pretty spectacular.  Obviously I did something right if Edward declared that he loved me on our second date.  So I am a little amazed that I have been passed over.

Can I tell you how tortured I was on Valentine’s Day, as I thought about him and his date sharing a romantic dinner and then the after party?!   I pictured her waking up next to him in the morning and was filled with envy.

Ironically, Edward wants to stay friends because he’s “never met another woman like me.”  Oh dear.  And have front row seats to watching him fall in love with someone else?  NO THANK YOU!  I’d rather pluck every hair off my head with a pair of dull tweezers while listening to Barney the Purple Dinosaur sing.

I’ve debated sending him text messages.  I wanted to tell him when my son broke his foot yesterday.  I compose emails to him in my head.  And I had the horrible, crazy idea to send him “Take A Chance on Me” by ABBA .

I am nothing if not dorky.

In the end, I’ve done nothing.  Because pretty much when someone says they don’t want you it’s TIME TO GO.  So I’m going.  It’s just this lingering heart that’s giving me trouble.

The post about broken feet and bad dates

So I’m at DryWalk Blow Dry Bar getting my hair done for my date last night when I get a text message from my mom.

“Gavin hurt his foot.  He needs to be seen by a doctor.”

And just like that my dinner date evening in Los Gatos turned into an evening in the ER with my son, his broken foot and my ex husband.  Oh joy.

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The ER however, was so fast that we were in and out with a splint and crutches (my son is THRILLED he’s on crutches) in about 2 hours, leaving me plenty of time for my date.

So I went out with Tony last night.  We went to the Jack Rose in Los Gatos for cocktails.  I had a Sazerac and Hemingway.  He had two gin and tonics.

But not even alcohol could save this date.  To begin with, Tony sweat profusely and used cocktail napkins to mop up the sweat which he then placed on the table by our food. Ew yuck.  He also burped all night long and announced about an hour into the date that, “The Hispanics are trying to take over our government….”

I should have ended the date right then and there.  I was getting tired and spending too much time stifling yawns to be a very good conversationalist, even if I’d wanted to.   I found myself daydreaming about Edward, another useless and painful pastime of mine.

I tortured myself with another hour of him asking me. “So what are your hobbies?  So what is another hobby of yours?  Tell me the last fun thing you did….” and so on.

YAWN!

He was so not my type I practically jumped out of the car when he brought me home.  Then I leaned back in, gave him a hug and said thank you and left for the comfort of my empty bed.

Oh ugh.  Have I mentioned how much I hate dating now.

Happy Singles Awareness Day

Valentine’s Day (aka Singles Awareness Day) sucks for us single people.  All day long, people have been asking me my plans for Valentine’s Day.  You wanna know what my plans are?  I’m going to go home and masterbate after drinking an entire bottle of champagne by myself while watching “The Notebook” and crying because that movie is just so damned romantic.  And I’m going to try really hard not to think of Edward out on a date falling in love with another woman. And when I fail to do that I will just go to bed early to give myself some relief for the sadness.

Anything and everything is romantic on Valentine’s Day.  And I get to hear about all of it in vivid detail on Facebook.  In sickeningly sweet romantic detail.

“My wife is too perfect for words…”

“He showed up with his hands full of beautiful long stem roses…”

Oh gag! Gag! GAG!

The most genuinely romantic thing I saw on Facebook for Valentine’s Day is my step-sister’s post.  She just had baby #2 the day before Valentine’s Day and she posted “Family is what happens when two people fall in love.”

So no, I’m not completely bitter about Valentine’s Day.  In fact, I’m celebrating the fact that I have a date tomorrow.  At a fancy restaurant in Los Gatos.  LOL  Oh history, you do repeat yourself don’t you?

I’m not saturated with bitterness, but if I was it might be because I just got an email from a guy complimenting my rack.  This is how he introduced himself to me.  Yes, these are the men who are single and available to us single ladies. And now you know why I’m still single – the dating pool out there is a little inbred, inebriated and inept.  I can’t imagine why he’s single, can you?  But he’s sure as hell right about my rack 😉

Bitterness is personified by my sister who wrote on Facebook “I don’t give a fuck about Valentine’s. Or work. Or anything. I need chocolate.”  Touche Lisa.  She even added this lovely image to solidify her stance on V-Day:

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She’ll likely feel better when she gets the flowers, teddy bear and chocolate my boys and I sent her.  The day will definitely improve for her then.  Because in the end, all we really want on Valentine’s Day is to feel special… to have someone, anyone do a little something to make our day brighter.  Make us feel cared for.

Sure, I’d love to go home and have someone sexy to hug, share a romantic meal with, and go mattress dancing with, but that’s ignoring the fact that I have two teenage boys who love me who will probably give me a hug when I get home then ignore me the rest of the night while they play video games and I watch a sappy romantic movie while drinking aforementioned bottle of champagne.  I’ll likely contact some of my flirty friends and swap sexy texts.

Then I’ll fall asleep, drunk on champagne bubbles and wake up with a headache ready to relight my beacon of optimism and go out on a date with Tony.  That’s exactly what I’ll do.

Is it bad to be too bored to date?

Is it bad to be too bored to date?  Honestly, if I have to go to Los Gatos for one more dinner date I may just fling myself into Vasona Lake and go for a long cold swim.  After my $1,000 date with Edward, no other date will come close.  Edward ruined me by setting the bar too high.  No more fancy dinners.

Honestly, I’d love for someone to just take me to the beach for a bonfire, or a sports game, or skating/falling at the ice skating rink.  That could be fun.  Hell, I’d even enjoying going to a park and flying a kite.

Anything but dinner in Los Gatos.  The waiters all know me there and think I’m slutty with all the dinner dates I have.

Little do they know.

Last night I was expecting to get three phone calls from three men I met online – Tony the Italian physical therapist, David the 6’6” pinot lover, and Anthony the camper.

So when Tony called, I naturally said, “Hello David.”

“Wrong horse,” he laughed.

Big oops!

Not the best way to start a conversation with someone new.  We had the standard getting-to-know-you conversation which was unremarkable and slightly boring.  I tried to get off the phone but he kept me on until I agreed to a date.

IN LOS GATOS.  At a restaurant OF MY CHOICE.

Any of this sounding familiar?

Welcome to the wonderful world of internet dating.  Pin a medal on me and call me “Genius.”

image tny
Anthony Tony
pinot
David

Sex and Alcohol?

38d7f5c9419af654f9bebc832105475cWith lent coming up, the question looming for me is “Am I going to give anything up?” And if so, what?

I suggested to Edward that I give up alcohol and sex.

“Does sex include masturbation?” he asked.

“God no. Then I’d be giving up orgasms not sex.  Sex includes another person.” I rationalized.

“Michelle, you giving up sex is like me giving up Victoria’s Secret models and skydiving,” he chastised me. “You’re supposed to make a sacrifice.”

This is a thinly veiled reference to the fact that I’m not having sex therefore giving it up would not be a sacrifice.

“I’m pretty sure swearing off orgasms would kill me, though.  It can’t be good for me,” I whined.  “Besides, giving up alcohol will be hard for me.  I love my wine and cocktails.”

Maybe I should swear off dating.  But if I did that would leave me with no one but Edward to think of.  And that’s just not healthy.  So for my own sake, I think it’s going to be alcohol and sex.

But wait, maybe I need to think this through a little more.