So….About Yesterday… November 25, 2020

I swear it had to be a full moon. I know it wasn’t, but damn, some weirdly stupid shit happened.

I am at my happy place for the winter. I was sitting on a friend’s patio when an ex friend (would love to share the backstory, but I have no clue what I did. No, really) walks by and calls me a bitch. Waot, what? I wasn’t even looking in her direction. She then calls another friend a c*nt, flips us off and calls us mean girls. Uhm, what just happened?

Although I love a good Mean Girls reference, we were all shocked. Oh, and pissed. I ‘may’ have suggested she adjust her meds after she called us all names. She then announced that she wasn’t on any (hmmm, may be something she wants to consider, just saying) and that I’M the one who needs to be medicated.

Hello dumbass, that’s what vodka is for. 😉 Kidding. Kind of. So surreal and unprovoked. People are nuts.

As if that wasn’t weird enough, I heard from Repo Man/The P.I. (I can’t remember what I used to call him or how to link previous posts 🙄). Mr. Nice Guy was either drinking or has some issues as it wasn’t pleasant……. stay tuned

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And So It Begins November 22, 2018

Yesterday I arrived, after a brutal 16 hour drive, complete with a car packed to the gils, my beloved doggie and a full bladder to my sister’s house.  When I left my home, at the lovely hour of 5am it was 23 degrees.  Upon arrival to my sister’s, it was 72 degrees.

 

I am headed to the beach on Monday.  I have a wedding to go to today and plans to see friends tomorrow.

 

You all don’t really care about that now, do you?  You’re here to read about how my last visit with Mr. OoT went.  He visited for 2 days.  It was a good visit.  He helped me get the house in order and offered to help with several other things (that he mysteriously ended up sleeping through).  Mr. OoT needs explicit instruction and a bit of prodding to actually accomplish anything that he has promised.  His intentions are good.  His follow through needs a bit of help.

 

Day one we puttered around the house.  Did tons of yard work, checked gutters, changed light bulbs, cleared out the crawl space.  You know, romantic stuff.  I made us dinner and then we sat in the back yard, all bundled up, by my fire pit.  Now the ‘idea’ of a fire pit on a cold night is much better than the actuality of one.  Maybe it was the sad singular duraflame log that I used, but still.

 

Day 2 we ran a few errands and then had a proper date night.  Happy hour (my FAVORITE hour) and a movie.  We wandered around a cute upscale shopping area and had a kind stranger take some cute pics of us.  Mr. OoT doesn’t drink.  He has always said he doesn’t mind if I do.  He has been sober since the age of 19.  We only go to happy hours at nice restaurants.  Places that don’t feel like a ‘bar’.  The place we went has amazing food and an indoor fireplace feature.  We sat by there and enjoyed some yummy food and great service.  I would never even think of taking Mr. OoT to a bar-bar.  You know, one complete with pool tables, the aroma of stale beer and a bunch a drunks.  I specifically choose places, on the rare occassion that we go, that are restaurant type places.  He says it felt an awful lot like a ‘bar’.  No clue what he’s talking about.  I think he doesn’t realize how often he minimizes the effort I put into making sure he’s okay with things.  Boo.

 

Day 3, we went out to breakfast before he left.  It was an interesting good bye.  We both try super hard to not let the other know how we’re feeling.  Kinda weird since he used to be overly effusive about that shit.  I told him that I’d miss him.  Probably more than I wished I would.  He said he’d miss me too.  Kind of.  I know he was kidding and that he will absolutely miss me a lot, but he refuses to just tell me without some shitty addition to the sentiment.

 

 

Expectations, Reality & Plan B September 18, 2018

Expectations, to an extent, are a bad thing.  Standards are good things.  Those shouldn’t be lowered or *gasp* ignored.  Expectations, however, are a tricky thing.  You can’t expect people to act the way you want them to.  Everyone operates with their own set of ‘tools’.  Some people are, in fact, tools themselves.

 

Not sure if I ever mentioned that I actually met Repo Man when I was in my old hometown a few months ago.  He was sweet as can be.  He picked me up from the airport, took me out to lunch and then dropped me off where I needed to be.  We got along great.  He’s very cute.  In looks and personality.  He was sweet and nice and complimentary and smart and insightful.  I liked him.   Pretty sure he liked me too.  What a nice feeling.  When he dropped me off, he got out of his truck and handed me my suitcase.  And he kissed me.  Uhm….. While it wasn’t the worst thing in the universe, it was unexpected and as we’d had Mexican food for lunch it was a tad bit onion-y.  Weird.

 

Although I was seeing Mr. OoT at the time, I continued to communicate with Repo Man.  He was super flirty and kept suggesting that we have a do-over of the kiss.  He was seeing someone as well at the time.  I was very careful about how I responded.  I had a pretty good idea that he was ‘Plan B-ing’ me again.  You know, if the current girlfriend doesn’t work out, there I’d be.  He’d done it twice to me before.  I guess I was doing the same thing to him.  As we live in different states, I kind of considered it a non issue.

 

As it turns out, it WAS a non issue.  Although he was the one to always text me and while I was careful to never discuss Mr. OoT, he would usually mention his girlfriend and how he was pretty sure she wasn’t the one.  Yup, both times we were supposed to meet before he was dating someone else who wasn’t the one either.  As he apparently likes to cram square pegs into round holes (nope, not a euphemism), he would go silent when he decided to give these women ‘one more chance’.  Whatevs.

 

Needless to say, he went silent.  After an hour or so of texting one night, he opted to send me a photo of he and his current square peg.  Uh, thank you?  Weird.  I told him they made a cute couple.  I thought that was more polite than responding “why the fuck did you just send that to me?’  And that, my friends, brings to a close the latest chapter in Repo Man & Grey Goose a couple never meant to be.

 

 

All In The Family July 11, 2018

So my sister came to visit last week. My condescending, judgemental, entitled twin sister. And her husband. Things go one of 2 ways when we get together. Really well or really not. They were here for 4 days.

Mr. OoT left my house around 1pm last Friday. My sister and brother in law arrived at 3:15pm. They opted not to rent a car and told me (not asked me) that I would be picking them up from the airport and driving them everywhere. Uhm, okay. At least they got an Air BnB near my house. I had offered my guest room, but they prefer their own place. Thank god for small miracles.

Anywhoo, we went directly from the airport to happy hour. Duh. That’s just how my family rolls. I had the whole itinerary for their stay worked out. In addition to being lushes, my family are all planners (kinda why Mr. OoT’s inability to plan ahead drives me insane). There were several happy hours, white water rafting, farmer’s markets and chit chat on the itinerary. Oh, and dinner and a comedy show with Mr. OoT, his son and my bff. Yikes.

I don’t think my sister, or anyone in my family, has ever actually met anyone I’m dating. It’s just not my thing. I find it best to keep anyone I might be interested in away from family. To the best of their knowledge I’ve only dated 2 men in my 50 years. Ha.

Now, I had warned my sister that Mr. OoT is a bit rough around the edges. That he’s an opinionated libertarian alien believing creationist and a lover of all things weed related. Oh, and he doesn’t drink. And we do. A lot. I was waiting for some sort of fiasco to occur. None did. Dinner prior to the show lasted for 3 laughter filled hours. Mr. OoT seemed a bit subdued and his son looked like he wanted to kill himself, but I’ll chalk that up to being nervous (and was a bit thankful for that).

During dinner, my twin sister asked Mr. OoT if he had anything planned for my upcoming birthday and he said yes! A weekend away. Now, as he had previously asked me SPECIFICALLY if I would prefer a cabin in the woods or a hotel in the city (duh, the hotel of course), I was certain of his response when my sister asked where. You can imagine my surprise when he proudly announced we would be going to a cabin in the woods. What. The. Fuck. I thought he was kidding. He wasn’t. My sister set him straight on the fact that the words ‘a cabin in the woods’ was a phrase that I had never uttered. Poor Mr. OoT was positive that’s what I had said. Like truly positive and was so proud of himself for remembering correctly.

Needless to say a conversation was had later that evening (in between some amazing bedroom shenanigans) regarding just how scary bad his memory is and that, when he inevitably said it wasn’t, I then told him that he must just be a complete narcissist as he never remembers what I say and always projects what he wants (i.e. a cabin in the woods). It was a calm conversation and actually seemed to hit home. I honestly think it scared him a little to be so certain about something that never happened.

Anywho, the comedy show after dinner was meh, but all in all, it went well. So well that we all planned to ‘do brunch’ the next morning since Mr. OoT and his son were staying over. For whatever reason, Mr. OoT finds the fact that we ‘brunch’ super funny and ‘fancy’ (helped along, no doubt, by my preference of hotels and maid service over woodsy cabins and doing my own cooking when given the choice).

Brunch was great fun. Everyone was much more relaxed and showed who they were. I was a clutz and fell off the curb. My sister and brother in law asked several offensive questions. Mr. OoT vaped and rambled on about disc golf. His son played on his phone. No great surprise.

After brunch we took Mr. OoT’s son back to my house to do whatever 15 year old boys do. Oh, ewww, no, let’s hope that’s not what he did while we were gone…. The rest of us took the dogs for a walk along the river. And I face-planted. No, really, I did. Kind of like a slow motion cartoon style fall. Not embarassing at all. I’m just that uncoordinated.

Mr. OoT and son left after our walk to head back to their town. My sister’s visit lasted for another day and a half. I must say, I enjoyed it. I’m not quite sure that they love Mr. OoT for me, but they saw how much he likes me and were impressed that he’s very open about showing it.

I know he was trying. Really hard. He was nervous to meet them and although he knows they liked him, he is convinced that they’d rather see me with an accountant. Uhm, okay.

It wasn’t nearly as awkward or horrible as I had feared. At least it is out of the way, no one cried and aside from my sister full on linebackering my brother in law out of the raft in the middle of a class 4 rapid, there were no injuries (he was fine, but it was damn funny).

Next up, exactly 4 hours after dropping my sister and BIL at the airport for their flight back home I loaded up my dog and headed to Mr. OoT’s town to meet his family. Parents (who I had already met), 1 brother & 1 sister who I had already met as well, his favorite sister from another state, her 3 adult-ish kids, Mr. OoT’s married daughter and grandson (who, incidentally, were staying with Mr. OoT’s ex girlfriend) and some other assorted nieces and nephews. No pressure, right? Here’s a fun fact about me: I can talk to anyone one on one. Put me in a group of new people (much less a big family with me being odd man out) and I turn into a socially awkward nimrod. Good times ahead…..

Drawers, Speeding Tickets, Parents & Time Lapses May 30, 2018

So I got the drawer.  He was uber cute about it.  To me, it’s just a drawer.  To him, it’s more of symbolic letterman’s jacket.  He’s admitted that he’s the ‘girl’ in the relationship and worries all the time about what I’m thinking, how I’m feeling, if I’m tired of him yet, etc….. Kinda endearing.  And kinda nice for me not to be the more neurotic of the two.  Kinda freaks me out though that he’s seemingly trying to fast forward whatever it is we have going on (more to come on this in another post as this one is already hodge podgey enough)

 

I met his parents this weekend.  Completely unplanned.  They invited us over for a BBQ on Monday.  Mr. OoT HATES his mother.  Apparently she was a horrible, horrible mom.  He’s not the only sibling to feel this way.  He refers to his mom as ‘his dad’s wife’ or the antichrist.  My mom was less than stellar so I get it.  He has nothing good to say about her.  I feel bad.  He loves his dad dearly though, so it’s a bit of a trade-off.  He warned me that his mom is passive aggressive and a bit of a hoarder.  She was actually fine.  A bit neurotic and awkward, but fine.  Even Mr. OoT said that she ‘kept her crazy tucked away pretty well.”  Anywhoo, I’m sure they loved me.  Everyone does.  HA!  I guess I’ll wait to hear what the report comes in as.  I think his hatred of his mom takes up a lot of space in his already overly crammed, never silent mind, so it would be great if he could find some sort of a middle ground.

 

Mr. OoT and I went to a hot springs on Monday evening.  It was okay.  I had grand ideas of how amazing sexy time would be in a private hot springs room.  Huh, not so much.  Firstly, trying to have sex in the water is a bit of a challenge (for many reasons).  Secondly, I guess I wanted the water temp a bit too high for my delicate flower of a man, so he was feeling a bit woozy.  He was SOOOO embarrassed.  I almost felt like shit.  Almost.  Oh well.

 

On the way back to his apartment, I was rewarded with a police car siren and flashing lights in my rear-view mirror.  Super, you can never have enough speeding tickets, right?  To be clear, I WAS speeding.  I usually do.  I like to get to where I’m going.  To also be clear, Mr. OoT HATES cops.  Probably as much as he hates his mother.  I could tell that he was getting all worked up, so I asked him to please not say anything when the policeman approached.  I was driving and it was my car after all.  The policeman came to the window and informed me that I was speeding.  I was polite and lied told him that I had my cruise control set at xx mph, so was confused.  Mr. OoT began to pop off and I had to shush him.  When the cop walked away to run my license, Mr. OoT began a litany of  reasons that cops suck.  I basically had to tell him to shut the fuck up; in a nice way, of course.  After the 3rd time of rewording my ‘shut the fuck up’, he finally did.  The cop let me off with a warning (to which I thanked him and Mr. OoT wasn’t happy that I did that) and we were on our merry way again.  It could have been worse.  I handled it well.  I was polite and respectful.  Mr. OoT was not.  I was pissed.  He could have gotten me (and himself) in a lot of trouble.  He is seemingly unable to harness his self righteous ideals about things when it comes to deciding the best way to handle a specific situation.  Concerning, to say the least.

 

All in all we had a fun 4 days.  I got home Tuesday morning.  It was a good time.  Although still being the flakey, bad memory having, peter pan (ish) guy that he always was, he’s also super sweet to me.  Stay tuned for the ‘fast forward’ and my impending (or not) freak out …………….

 

Turn Tables May 27, 2018

So during our multitude of talks on Friday night, Mr. OoT asked me if I’d ever want to get married. I swear I almost wet the bed. Why the fuck is he asking me that? This is the 3rd weekend we’ve spent together. While I am certainly hoping he didn’t mean it in a will you marry me, kinda way (#4, really?), it freaked me out a little. As I was facing away from him at the time (little spoon, ya’ know), he wasn’t privy to my deer in the headlights facial expression. I did my best to rebound from my shock and not get all weirded out by the question. I told him I guess it would depend on the circumstances. That I had always assumed, as young and ignorant girl (before way too many years of online dating jaded me) that I would get married. That I truly would like to experience the ceremony and symbolism of it all. That I, regardless of how UN women’s lib it is, feel like a bit of a failure for never being married at 50. I think having years of online nimrods asking me ‘what’s wrong with you’ when they find out that I’ve not been married to thank for at least a little of this. Fuckers. After my response to Mr. OoT, I promptly changed the subject.

Mr. OoT is SUPER into me. It’s absolutely not in my nature or lack of ego to ever say something like that, but he’s pretty open about it. He’s also very neurotic and nervous about it. He keeps telling me that he’ll totally understand that when (not if) I decide in 6 months that he’s too weird for me, he’ll understand. I asked him why he thinks he’s such an unloveable weirdo. If it’s a factor of his own doing or if he’s been told this by others. He wouldn’t answer. I’m guessing it’s a combination of the two.

I asked him how many time he’s been in love. His first response was to say ‘apparently never as nothing has ever worked out’. I told him what a sadly ridiculous answer that was. That you can absolutely be in love and not have things work out. We talked about it a bit more and he changed his answer to 4. I called bullshit on that one too. He’s been married 3 times for fuck sake.

I did something completely insane the other day and I still don’t know why. I’m not a FB stalker or a google searcher. If I want to know something about someone, I just ask. I completely FB stalked him. Like every single post back 2009. Insane. And time consuming, I might add. If that isn’t concerning enough, I actually went the extra step of screen shotting every single ‘I love you’, ‘you are my world’, and any other declaration of love to different women. I actually find it odd that these women all went out of their way to post weirdly ‘look at me and my man’ posts on FB instead of sending them directly to him, but as I was presently being a psycho, who am I to judge? Anywho, apparently 2011 was a big year for him. 4 different women, in fairly quick succession, were the recipients of his heart. Why the hell do I care what happened 7 years ago? No clue.

Best yet about all of this? I told him I did it. He asked me why. I couldn’t answer. He wanted to know if I did it to use against him in the future. Weird. No. He wanted to know if I was in the process of trying to sabotage things. Against my usual M.O., again a big NO. I told him that I think he’s in love with the idea of love. He said I was wrong. I assure you, I am not. Anywhoo, I do think something that bothers me are all the ‘baby’, ‘you’re amazing’ and other terminology that he uses with me. Why on earth, at his advanced age of 40 whatever, would I think that I’d be the 1st woman that he calls baby?

I do find it refreshing, if not foreign as hell, for me to be so open and comfortable with him. Sure, I’m still the same neurotic dumbass that I’ve always been, but I just tell him about all of it. And instead of thinking I’m a total mess, he does his best to make me feel better and let’s me know how much he appreciates my honesty as it makes him feel more secure in things knowing that I’m a weirdo too.

Snoring, Drawers & Weird Sisters May 26, 2018

His, not mine.  Well, that’s not entirely true.  I have weird sisters as well.  His is just extra special weird.  When I was here last, she came over to talk to Mr. OoT and, as I was in the room and am a judgy bitch intuitive, she is one of those people that thrives on chaos.  Self created, self defeating chaos.  Although having a good heart, I found her exhausting to be around.  Her energy was uber draining.  In an attempt to do something nice for her as I don’t think she’s familiar with random people being kind to her, I brought her a gift this time around.  We had spoken a bit about my love of crystals and she said she believe in the powers of them as well.  I selected a Rose Quartz for her.  If anyone ever needed one, it’s her.  So I brought it with me and gave it to her yesterday when she stopped by and she made it so FUCKING WEIRD.  I have no idea what her deal was, but it was super off putting.  She said thank you, but she didn’t mean it.  I’m not really one to give people more than a couple chances (unless they’re totally inappropriate men), and as this was strike number 2, I’m going to do my best to avoid her in the future.  The fact that she just couldn’t say thank you and move on was just annoying.  As Mr. OoT has a BIG family and I’m not the only one to find this sister draining and exhausting, I don’t feel so bad.  Well, I kinda do, but hell if I’m going to go out of my way to be nice to someone that I don’t vibe with.  I tried.  I failed. Moving on.

 

Now about this snoring.  Holy hell, it’s an issue.  A big one.  After 4 rounds of sexy time with Mr. OoT yesterday, momma needs her sleep.  That just doesn’t happen.  I have never heard anything so loud.  Like wake the dead loud.  As an added bonus, he’s a thrasher as well.  On the off times that his foghorn downgrades to just breathing loudly, he usually thrashes around.  Big time.  I would seriously pay big money to be able to tell what goes on in his brain when he sleeps.  Honestly, I have no clue how HE is even able to sleep with all that noise an thrashing.

 

After deciding to get some sleep at 2:48 am (not bad for an old fart, eh?), I finally gave up at 5:30am.  Lovely.  I have this awesome tracker bracelet (a gift from said snoring wonder) that also tracks sleep.  Not just in amount, but in quality.  It breaks it down into deep sleep and light sleep.  I am presently typing you all on a whopping 46 minutes of deep sleep.  No bueno.  I see an exhaustion migraine coming on at any moment.  If anyone has any suggestions for me short of smothering him with a pillow (which I have considered several times), please share.

 

Anywhoo, yesterday was fun.  It’s been 3 weeks since I’ve seen him.  I like him.  Plain and simple.  He’s morphing a bit into a different version of himself from the one that I initially met.  He’s still every bit as defiantly non conformist/hippie tree hugger as he ever was and I’d never want that to change.  People need to be true to who they are.  He still has wildly different views on things than I do.  He still thinks I’m an uber square.   He is just more respectful; less self involved.  Hell, he even puts the toilet seat down!  Not a small kindness for a lot of men.  The more time I spend with him, the more I like him.

 

Oh, and that elusive drawer that he was going to dedicate to me?  He actually did!  And it’s charming as hell just HOW proud he is of this.  He asked me last night, when we were talking about just about everything under the sun, how I felt about having a drawer in his place.  I didn’t have the heart to tell him that, to me, it’s just a drawer.  He sees it as a BIG token.  Like the dresser version of giving me his letter-man jacket.  So sweet.

Were There Men Even On Board? May 24, 2018

So. Much. Fun. So. Many. Cocktails. Got back Sunday from my 3 day whirlwind cruise. So glad I went. Even though the ‘jr suite’ that I shared with 2 friends was more like a ‘not so much jr suite’ and I slept on this odd folded out futon like couch thing (diagonally, might I add as it was uber short and I am not), I had a blast.

There were 13 of us in all. And about 6 of that 13 were all about the drama. Tears, tantrums and rudeness included. I successfully avoided it all. And spent most of my time at the bar. Every bar. My ‘core group’ all got the ‘unlimited drinks’ package and, as it’s not really unlimited and is instead limited to 15 drinks per day (boo Carnival), it was an unwritten agreement to try and reach our limit each day. #lifegoals. Sadly, and surprisingly considering we started drinking at 9am each day, I never actually hit 15. Apparently I’m lame. Or just a cheaper date than I used to be.

The laughter was plentiful, the drinks strong, the re-bonding of friendships awesome. The only thing that could have made the experience better would be an in board hook up. Sorry friends, I broke my vacation fling streak.

There weren’t many cute singles on board. There were lots of younger men with ironic man buns though. No thank you. I heard, on night #1 that there was a group of age appropriate hotties spotted in the dining room, but I was not alerted. Damn greedy bitches. I do think I spotted them the next night when they all walked past me on formal night. They were every bit as attractive as I’d heard. There was even a tall nerdy one with glasses just for me. Sadly, and inexplicably, my inner social retard took over and instead of making eye contact when he looked directly at me and smiled, I looked at the ground. WTF?!?! I have no clue what happened. I would normally switch directions and follow them (is it really stalking if it’s just me?), but I totally drew a blank and brain farted on what little game I have left. Eh, oh well, at least they were pretty to look at, however briefly.

I am back home, missing my friends terribly, still awaiting my room service coffee to be delivered to my room and, for some strange reason, am unable to locate the buffet. Damn reality….

Adulting May 4, 2018

Not my favorite.  It seems as though I’ve had to ‘adult’ my entire life.  Being perpetually single and *gasp* independent, all of life’s decisions have always fallen squarely on my shoulders.  Usually to be addressed straight away before my senility kicks in and I forget to take care of them all together.  I have definite opinions on what is important.  On what is right & wrong.  About how things should be.  Really, I have definite opinions on just about everything.  Some things I’m better about dealing with than others as proven by my overly neurotic posts each and EVERY time I meet a guy I could potentially like.

 

Seeing someone that lives 2 hours away is a bit of a pain in the ass.  There’s planning involved for a booty call.  I don’t even think that needing to drive 2 hours even makes it a booty call.    Anywhoo, I am off to see Mr. OoT again this weekend.  I was actually available to leave yesterday to head up there and could spend 4 nights with him before needing to come home.  For whatever reason, I just kind of assumed that would greeted with an enthusiastic ‘hurry up and get your ass over here, I miss you’.  That wasn’t quite what I got.  The ‘plan’ was actually for me to head up tomorrow morning.  I never told him I was available to come up on Thursday.  When we spoke yesterday he let me know that he has a lot of things that he needs to get done on Saturday and needed to spend some quality time with his son.  He loves his son to death and the fact that he’s only in town 2 weeks out of the month means that he wants to spend as much time as possible with him.  I entirely get that.  Kids come 1st.  Always.  As it should be.  What I wasn’t prepared for was Mr. OoT asking if I could delay my arrival until tomorrow night.  Well boo.  Like 7pm tomorrow night.  That sucks.

 

While my 1st inclination would be to assume he didn’t really want to see me and that ‘WTF, seriously?’ and then try to change his mind and let him know that I didn’t expect to spend every waking moment with him and was happy to entertain myself around town, I took a step back (here’s where the adulting part comes in) and realized that our ‘dating’ isn’t all that organic.  Duh.  If he were to be seeing someone that lived in his town, they’d go to dinner, have some sexy time and then he’d send her ass home until the next time.  Our dates come with an automatic sleep over and last no less than 24 hours.  I guess that’s a lot.  Date #1 lasted 25 hours.  Date #2 lasted a scant 4 hours.  Date #3 lasted 72 hours.  For a man that likes his space and commented numerous times on how surprised he was that my being there wasn’t freaking him out, I get that this is a lot.  It is.  It’s like the date that never ends. Don’t get me wrong, he’s been nothing but awesome since last weekend, but I get it.  I really do.

 

So I agreed.  Because I’m mature like that and am trying to be less selfish in my view of things.  What he doesn’t know, however, is that I don’t need to be home until Monday.  I haven’t told him that yet.  I guess we’ll just see how things go with date #4 and whether it lasts 24 or 48 hours.  😉

 

Have a great weekend everyone!!

What A Weekend, Part 1 April 17, 2018

And no, before anyone goes and gets excited about anything, I don’t mean ‘what an amazing weekend’. It’s actually been quite the opposite.

Last you heard, Mr. OoT was giving me the silent treatment. He opted to end the silence with a phone call. A phone call consisting of a prepared speech coming at me with both barrels. Uh, what the hell did I do? Apparently it was 2 fold. He had seen an IG pic I posted wishing a friend’s son a happy birthday. It was a cute pic of the 2 of us with a funny, inside joke caption about his being the start of most Sunday Funday bad decisions. Totally innocuous to me as he’s a whopping 28 years old, looks about 18 and he, his mom & I go Sunday Funday drinking more than we should (in frequency AND volume consumed). Mr. OoT saw the pic and caption and assumed I was seeing him. Instead of just asking me about the photo he spent the day stewing and creating scenarios in his head.

The next thing he did was log onto Plenty of Fish. Nope, not to look for women, but to check my profile and see when I was on last. For god knows what reason, POF said I was on 2 days prior and he assumed (wrongly) that I was still dating around. I haven’t been. I haven’t been on there since before I went to see Mr. OoT. Btw, he knew about Mr. England. I called him and told him after I broke things off. He said he felt bad for Mr. England, but was happy to hear it. I stopped short of telling Mr. OoT that he was the only one I was interested in seeing, but figured he knew.  My bad.

Anyway, after the little phone tirade, I corrected Mr. OoT on all issues. It was a pretty intense call for many reasons. It seemed like he was trying to end things, but after talking it out all seemed okay. I even asked if we were good and he said yes, we were.

Or so he said………

Berger April 14, 2018

Remember that episode from Sex In The City where Carrie gets dumped by John Berger via post-it note? So shitty, right? Completely cowardly. Well, I’m Berger, Mr. England is Carrie and the post-it note is a text message. Oh yes I did.

Mr. England messaged me yesterday to see if I could meet for coffee. Last minute. Again. I opted not to respond (because I’m completely immature and passive aggressive). Over the course of the next few hours came 4 more text messages consisting of the perfectly annoying combination of needy and passive aggressive from him. I didn’t respond to any. Then came the snide ‘so, do you want to go to the party on Sunday or are you ‘busy’ again’? Okay, enough already. Time to put on my big girl pants and do the right thing. Well, do the right thing in a completely cowardly and lame way.

I responded by ignoring all of his original messages, lying that I had my phone off (don’t ask me why) and letting him know it would be best if I passed on the party on Sunday. Then I sent a 2nd text. One letting him know that although I thought he was a terrific guy, the fact that he’s a shitty kisser was a deal breaker for me. What? Okay, no, that’s not what I said (only in my head). I told him that I think he’s great, but that in re-thinking our conversations when we last met, I thought it was for the best that we no longer see each other. Sure, I could have just told him that I wasn’t feeling it, but I didn’t want to make him feel bad. Right or wrong, that’s how my mind works. I then sat back and waited for the inevitable shitty message back from him.

It didn’t come. What did arrive was a concerned, ‘was it something I said?’. An understanding ‘you seemed reluctant to move forward’ and a sad emoji face (of course there was an emoji). I sent back ‘no worries, it’s all for the best; I hope you find someone wonderful’. He then sent back a ‘U2’ with a kissy emoji.

He is a good guy. A needy, unsure, shitty kissing good guy. I can’t say for certain if everything else would have been forgiven if he was a good kisser, but I assume (knowing me and the kissing whore that I am) that it might have been. As he’s not and I don’t love creepy emojis, like I told him; It’s for the best ………

Old Friends Emerge April 13, 2018

And by ‘old friends’ I of course mean the hottie from Tinder that unmatched me a couple of weeks back. The one that I ridiculously thought had unmatched me because I had written a rather unflattering blog post about him & figured the universe gave him a heads up. Right. I’m just that dumb sometimes.

Anyway, yesterday I reactivated my Tinder account and who do you think my 1st match was? Of course it was him. As I’m convinced that, since this is 3 times now, that the universe (and not the ridiculously small dating pool in my town) is basically giving me the thumbs up to just do him meet him already and stop dragging my feet.

He sends me a ‘hello beautiful’ and that’s where our love story began. Or at least was supposed to. We were going to meet for drinks last night. He said he’d be off work by 5. We messaged back and forth all day. At 3:30, I asked him if he had decided on a bar yet. He said no, he was still swamped with work. Whatever. I had a feeling he was going to chicken out. And he did. I texted him at 4 and let him know that although I had been looking forward to meeting him that night, that I don’t do last minute and as he hadn’t actually nailed down details, I had made other plans. Then I wished him a good night while mentally flipping him the fuck off.

As I already looked cute as hell, I decided to take myself out to dinner. I went to a favorite spot that I haven’t been to in months and grabbed a seat at the bar. Not only did the bartender remember me and my cocktail of choice, but also commented on my hair being a different color. Huh. Nice ego boost.

While I was at dinner I had 3 things happen:

1. Mr. England texted to see if I was free @ 8:30pm. Seriously? I sent back “uh, no, I already have plans with someone who plans in advance. And p.s. your learning curve regarding this seems kinda slow” dumbass

2. Some random guy plops down next to me and proceeds to hit on me. This shit never happens.

3. Mr Tinder says he’s free all weekend (no apology for being a flake, btw). I haven’t responded.

All in all, I’d call today a total #win for my ego!

D Day Recap April 12, 2018

Well, that didn’t go quite as planned.  I kind of suck.  A lot.  He didn’t annoy me at all with text messages and weird emojis at all yesterday.  Because he didn’t send any.  And I was glad.  They annoy me.  A lot.  I got to the bar that he chose (on his side of town, btw) before he did and grabbed a couple of seats and ordered a drink.  In he walks.  Dressed TOTALLY nice and cool.  What?  No schleppy active wear or shiny soccer pants?  He actually put some effort in.  Damn it, he cleans up well.  He sat down and we started talking and he was totally normal.  And not annoying.  Until he ordered an uber girly drink.  Well, not Frozen Strawberry Chi Chi girly, but something with heavy cream and cinnamon.  Lovely that I drink more manly cocktails than he does.

 

So we’re talking and I’m running through things in my head and thinking maybe this isn’t so bad.  We talk about his work, his travels, his likes, his dislikes, his day, his house, his ……. well, you get the idea.  He then stops himself from yammering on about himself and asks me a few questions.  I’m a listener by nature and as I know that, by and large, people like to talk about themselves a lot, I’m okay with just listening.  He pointed that out to me and told me that I am not like most women.  Well no shit.  I’m not.  I’m a bit of a fucked up puzzle that I am fine with no one being able to figure out.  Yet.

 

Anyway, I knew what I needed to do but for some reason didn’t.  He then invited me to a party on Sunday being thrown by some friends of his.  And I kind of want to go.  Not sure why.  We talked about where ‘he is’ as far as relationships go.  That he has no idea what he wants.  I told him as much and that he needs to date around and figure it out.  Try on different women for size.  Kick some tires.  This was the perfect opportunity for me to tell him that I just wasn’t feeling it.  I didn’t.  I assumed (rather wrongly), that he was telling me that we could just see each other occasionally.  The perfect way to fade into the sunset without actually needing to hurt his feelings.  I should know better.

 

He walked me to my car and gave me a big hug.  Oh, okay, maybe I wasn’t wrong.  And then he kissed me.  A weird, un passionate, tongueless kiss.  He has a strange thing he does where there is the tongueless kiss and then he sighs and rubs his nose up against mine.  I swear to god, it’s the least sexy thing ever.  Perfect time to tell him, right?  I didn’t.  And am kicking myself today as the incessant text messages and overuse of emojis has started up again.

 

I’m totally telling him on Sunday……..No, really.  WTF is wrong with me?

Pretty Sure D Day Is Tomorrow April 10, 2018

Well what the hell does the D stand for? Decision day? Dreaded day? Dumping day? Doubtful day? Could be any of these things. Could be all of them wrapped up into one.

I’ve been trying to give Mr. England the benefit of the doubt and to make sure it’s not just Mr. OoT clouding my judgement, but he seems to be annoying me more and more.

Yesterday was a string of needy text message. Complete with the overuse of emojis. No, seriously. It’s just weird. Here is a screenshot of just a few of yesterday’s messages.

He would text, give me about 32 seconds to respond and then text again. I eventually just stopped responding. Then it happened. That damn fucking clown emoji that I have asked him not to send me. So weird. He then layed his cards on the table and told me that although he knows he’s being pushy, he just really likes me and can’t tell what I am thinking. Well damn. Uh….

We had plans to see a movie tomorrow night, but as I am not excited about the prospect of fending off his groping attempts (and I’m fresh out of mouse-traps), I just asked if we could meet for drinks instead. I KNOW he wanted to go to the movies again for just that reason. It’s like dating a 13 year old…

I guess I have a decision to make….

Sunday Thoughts April 8, 2018

I swear he doesn’t mean to come off so creepy (or maybe he does), but I think I’m going to need to ask Mr. England about his overuse of emojis and uber disconcerting text messages. Oh, and why the hell he doesn’t use his tongue when kissing. I have that one narrowed down to a few possibilities:

1) He’s a germaphobe

2) He doesn’t know any better

3) No one has ever told him how weird it is

I have a feeling that if we ever do sleep together that he will

1) make me shower 1st

2) not be very creative

3) minimal foreplay 😦

Anyway, he sent me a text last night. I had told him that I have a migraine. He sent back:

Aww, poor baby. I wish I was there to rub your temples (and other things) *string of weird emojis*

See what I mean? I know, I know. You’re all wondering why I continue to see him if I feel this way. Guess I’m waiting to discover if there is something I’m missing? I want to give him the chance to prove me wrong? I want to make sure it’s not just Mr. Out of Town clouding my judgement?

We are going to the movies on Wednesday night, so I guess we’ll see. Not really a fan of movie dates, but assuming he feels it is the best way to get to grope me?