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Posts Tagged ‘lying liars who lie

So a couple of months back my parents found this guy somehow and I ended up chatting with him on whatsapp. Without further ado, let the texts speak for themselves:

 

Text1 Text2 Text3 Text4 Text5

 

Why did it take me so long to post these?  I was just so annoyed. SO ANNOYED.

Asshole basically called me a judgmental gold digger.

I told my parents the story and had more than a high pitched voice and was telling them how awful he was, and my dad just goes:

Why are you getting all upset? Just don’t talk to him.

Which made me laugh because that was what I was going to do anyway, but I was all prepped for a fight with them about how I had to keep trying and how he probably wasn’t so bad but no.

Even they’ve given up hope now.

Dad even said,

If he texts you again, just tell him that he can’t start a relationship on the wrong foot. The ship already sailed!

Mixed metaphor, but yes, he’s right.

Luckily, I never heard from this douche again.

 

 

 

 

As Mom and Dad keep on trying… so do I. And as each interaction crashes and burns, I tell them.

There was a guy who I’d been emailing with – he was really nice, thoughtful, sent really well written emails. We finally speak on the phone, and he tells me about himself, and then busts out with this:

I just want you to know that the Unitarian Universalist church is a big part of my life.

Me (internally): SIIIIIIGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH. Of course it is.

Him:

Yeah, I just have a thirst of knowledge about all religion and why we do the things we do. I don’t want to just do things for the sake of doing them, I really love to discuss and understand and KNOW.

Me:

Um…yeah. I’m mostly Hindu by ritual. I do things I know/think I should because if I don’t, my kids won’t know them.  Also, I have a religion degree – so … I’ve done this before.  I’ve had these discussions for a grade, and it’s not necessarily something I want to revisit.

Here’s the thing – I don’t mind discussing religion here and there. But all the time? It’s fucking exhausting. People like that are exhausting. I know… I took classes with them.

I just want to watch the crap shows on my DVR and not think about the higher reasons we’re all here. I’m not opposed to smart discussions, but I think I’m more vapid than he needs in his life.

Also, if I wanted a Christian guy, I’d just marry a hot white one.

The best part of all this? I told my parents and my Dad asks:

So…. does he go all the time? Or like just once a week…?

They’re so desperate. Any standards they had flew out the window when I turned 30. I swear, a Nazi could show up and they’d be like, “Well, he’s not THAT bad.”

SO THEN. Because the universe is trying as hard it can to keep me single, and doing a damn good job at it, I get this email from this guy that contacted me online, on an Indian dating website. To note, he is super cute, and I was SUPER excited…until this:

Thank you for replying my email, i think you should create a yahoo or gmail if we have to connect on chat, otherwise you can share you mobile number.

 

Um… this guy is SUPPOSED TO BE BRITISH. DOES THAT SOUND LIKE HE WENT TO SCHOOL IN ENGLAND, LIKE HE CLAIMS?

I did email he back, because he’s hot and I’m superficial, but the response I got was this – all punctuation, spelling and capitalization is his:

my grand father settle very UK a very long time ago and making it possible for my parents to also gave birth to all of us in UK.

Don’t get me wrong but i am always very optimistic in everything that i do and i hope this works out between us .
I have to stop here to avoid boring you with my long e mails, but i will like you to share your Mobile with me if possible , we can get more connected right there by voice and i hope you have mine as well.    This is my roaming number xxxxxxx and if you will i will as well give you my local number here as well.  attached are few of my Pictures.  So much regards to you and your family,please do reply me next with your Pictures.

 

I think I’m getting catfished. SIGH.

 

AND THEN.  My parents gave me the email address of some random mom out there in Michigan, and told me to send her my biodata. So I did – she emailed me back (very well written, always impressed by that) to just say that she got it and she forwarded it to her son.

He writes the next day, clearly from his phone, and this is what it said:

 Good morning.  What ifs your phone number? We can text and chat.  My horrid are very weird and wanted to make sure I was not ignoring you.  Look forward to hearing from you.

Ok – here’s the thing. I get that autocorrect is annoying and everyone has mistakes. Just the other day I whatsapped my girls and instead of saying, “I’m so confused” I somehow sent them a message that said, “I’m so sinuses.”

But you know what, I’M NOT TRYING TO MARRY THEM.  Fucking hell. Proofread that shit.

But I emailed him back, like a good girl and we just cut to a phone call the other night. He’s truly British, and so I was enjoying the accent, until this:

Me:

“So your number shows up as a Michigan number, but I think you’re in the mid-west, right?”

Him:

“Well, listen – I should tell you that about 5 months ago, I quit my job. The manager was horrible and racist. I’m living in Ohio right now but my mum thinks I’m still in Kansas.  She has high blood pressure and I didn’t want to upset her by telling her. But, since you talk to my mum, if you want to tell her, that’s on you.”

WHY WOULD I TELL HIS MOM THAT HE HAS NO JOB!?!?!?!?

Me:

“Um, I don’t talk to your mom. I only sent her the email with my info cause that’s the email address she gave my mom.”

Him:

“Ok, I didn’t know what was going on… oh, so you hear my British accent? [I replied yes] Yeah… it’s great. SUPER helpful in college… heh heh.”

JESUS CHRIST.  Are you fucking kidding me?

So we had a bit of normal conversation and then he says:

“By the way, you’re not so bad looking. You’re actually kind of pretty. I couldn’t just come straight out with a compliment, you know…”

I JUST GOT FUCKING NEG’ED.

So, I relay most of this to my parents (especially the jobless part and how he’s lying to his parents) and my Dad goes,

“Well, that’s just how some Indian communities are. They don’t share everything. So…. do you want to see him? “

WHY DO YOU WANT ME TO MARRY INTO THAT. WHY WHY WHY????

Well, I know why – because we’re all desperate.  We agreed (because my dating life is now only happening by family decision) that if he pursued or came to Atlanta, we should hang out, but that I shouldn’t call at all. Which was my plan anyway, but at least we’re all on board now.

And then Dad says,

Well … This is all that’s left.

 

Fuck. My. Life.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I went to a big two-day concert in the park here this weekend — side note: I realized I’m too old for this – I hate porta potties and I hate entitled little shits whose parents clearly paid for their tickets but act like they own the world. Luckily the shows were good and the drinks were strong. I would go back, but only as VIP.  😉

Anyway – back to the magic ring. On the first day, we had just gotten there and were about to go up the hill to grab some drinks and food, and all of a sudden I feel someone kind of grab me, but keep moving. I thought it was a friend of mine just goofing around.

Turns out, IT WAS SEIZES!!!!!  I ran into SEIZES!!! AND. HE. IS. GETTING. MARRIED.  To the girl he cheated on – and yeah, he cheated with me (and probably others – I don’t think I’m that special in that regard).

We talked a bit and they’re getting married in spring of next year, and I asked him flat out if he still cheats on her, and with a wink and a nudge, he said, “NO! Of course not! I’m offended you asked!”   Uh, right…..

He finally got a job as well (the economy really demolished his industry for a few years), and his offices are just down the road from me – so we’re supposed to meet up for happy hour at some point. We’ll see what happens.

So then, the second night – after long lines for the porta potties, after little bitches cut said line by flirting their way to the front, after the rain and mud and cold temps – my friend and I made our way to the back of the hill, near the exit (strategically positioned so we could leave fast) and waited for RHCP to come on…

As we’re standing near the beer bucket, I notice this guy come to buy beers – and I realize I know him. I haven’t seen him in years, and I was just thinking about him a few days ago. He’s German, super cute, and we used to hang out/date for a bit.

But, there was just never any chemistry. I (surprisingly) never even had sex with him, EVEN THOUGH  we were caught in a tornado together (Yup – went downtown for this outside photography exhibit, and for the first time in the city’s history, a fucking tornado ripped through downtown. We had to haul ass, ran into a hotel lobby and I looked pretty much like a tree threw up on me. I had twigs and leaves IN my hair.)

I also met him for a weekend in Amsterdam** AND STILL NO SEX. I mean, let’s face it, there was just nothing between us, which sucks because he is sweet and nice and cute and awesome and I’m probably an idiot for not forcing it a bit more and trying harder from my side.

But none of that matters now, because as he told me, after giving me a big hug and making small talk, he and his beautiful black girlfriend (who was not very nice to us, at all) are moving to Germany together.

Fuck my life, you guys. This damn ring isn’t bring me new boys. It’s just showing me what I could’ve had and how I’m still alone and they’ve all moved on.

**AND, that stop in Amsterdam was on a layover back to the States, from Africa. It was on that flight, from Nairobi to Amsterdam, that I met British. I swear to fucking god if  this ring brings British to me, I will kick him in the balls and break his nose.  And cry, a lot.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

And surprisingly, by “Shitter,” I’m actually not referring to myself.

So to back this story up: A long while back, I was dicking around with this guy. We didn’t really “date,” per se, as much as hook up when possible. He was fun, but that was about it. We had been away together, and we ordered a bottle of wine via room service and he ever so elegantly LET THE ROOM SERVICE GUY INTO THE ROOM. TO POUR THE WINE. WHILE I LAY THERE NAKED. UNDER A SHEET.   AND THEN ARGUED WITH ME ABOUT HOW MUCH TO TIP HIM: “But all I have is a $20!”

Jesus. Fucking. Christ. I’m naked and under white sheets that have been laundered a 1000 times. Can you please just give him something and get him OUT?

Anyway,  because I never learn my lesson the easy way, we were at my place a few weeks after that. I’d been drinking (stop the presses) and he asked me flat out about marriage and the pressure my parents were putting on me. This topic is sensitive to start with, so TO NO ONE’S SURPRISE… I teared up. Which didn’t seem to bother him out at that moment. And we also talked about how he figured he would just be single forever and how he was fine with that (we both knew that we weren’t going to be “the one” for each other).

But …. fast forward about 2 hours later, we’re in bed and he can’t get it up.

AND THEN. HE HAD THE MOTHER FUCKING BALLS TO TELL ME IT’S BECAUSE *I* CRIED.

That was why he was freaked out and THAT is why he couldn’t perform.

Um… fuck. you.  I just looked at him in the darkness and was like, “Wait, whaaaaaaaaa? Are you being for real that a few tears hours ago are stopping you right now?”

And he totally insisted that yes, because I cried he couldn’t do it.

Even though I was naked, willing and ready.  And he was old as dirt and that was the REAL reason he couldn’t get it up. {Ok… he wasn’t ancient but he did forget his reading glasses at dinner one time and I had to read him the menu. Yeah… tell me what those waiters were thinking…}

He slept over for a bit until we both decided that he should leave.

But… he left me a present. Apparently his upset tummy earlier that night resulted in SKID MARKS. ON MY SHEETS. WHICH I FOUND LATER. WHEN I WAS GOING TO WASH THEM.

The asshole not only didn’t fuck me, BUT HE SHIT MY BED. HE SHIT MY FUCKING BED AND LEFT AND BLAMED ME FOR HIS DICK NOT WORKING AND MADE ME FEEL LIKE COMPLETE ASS FOR HIS SHORTCOMINGS.

Anger does not begin to explain how I felt then. And now, now that I’m thinking about it again.

In any case, I recently found out that he just got engaged …. Awesome. This guy with a barely functioning penis and blame issues is marrying someone half his age.

But you know what, good for him. And, honestly, I don’t wish it was me.

But damn if it doesn’t bring up SO many feelings of sadness and resentment and concerns about why I’m NEVER the one who’s proposed to… I mean, sure, I didn’t (and don’t) want him but it’d be nice if just one fucking time it was MY decision to say “no, thanks.”  My decision to stop dating someone. My decision to break someone’s heart.

Because I’m so tired of it always being me who gets shit on (or at least, my bed). I’m tired of wondering why I’m never good enough. I’m tired of wondering why boys get so bored with me they can’t even bother to call back. I’m tired of wondering why there are so many things wrong with me that nobody wants me.

But also, I’m really tired of it being so easy for guys.

When they decide they’re ready, it’s just a matter of months until a willing girl falls into their web of promises for a lifetime together.

When a girl’s ready, she’s just … desperate.

I shut down my OkCupid account today. I’ve got a few remnant dates lined up for this coming weekend, but I’m tired of dating and this dismissal by “The Bod” hurts my feelings more than I care to admit.

I guess because it’s the same way British did it — the stringing along of “Sure, we’ll hang out. Sure, I’ll call you.” Dangling that carrot of intimacy and continued togetherness, with no intent of actually doing it. I find it so offensive and gross.

It makes me feel like shit to the point where my friends can tell it affects me.

Today I told my friend T how every time my phone rings or I get a text, I still hold out hope it’s him. I hate being this girl. I hate being this insecure, and I hate that I let myself feel this way because some kickball playing douche doesn’t want to hang out.  I shouldn’t care, but I do.

T said this:

The bod – what a bust. Honestly I think you need a real break from him and all these losers. Disable your account, and just focus on something else….maybe getting super toned up or clearing up the clutter.  I can tell he is bothering you a lot!!!  You seemed pretty upset about him, similar but not as severe as you were with British. You don’t need to go thru that again with him so you need to nip this in the bud and move on. He’s clearly in a different frame of mind and even if he does like you (which I think he does) he wants to spend his time chasing soccer balls. I really don’t think its anything against you, just his priorities are different….not worth your time in my opinion!!!!!

She’s right. She was right when she told me the same things about British. ALL my friends were right and I didn’t listen to them then, and let’s face it, *if* The Bod ever calls again (which I don’t think he ever will, but I hope that he does), I won’t listen to them then either, because I’d definitely go back out with him.

But like I told her, I  hate that every time I like a guy, it goes nowhere. I know it’s dumb but I really wonder what’s wrong with ME that AFTER they get to know me (whether a year or a few months) they’re just like, “Eh, I’m never calling HER again. My life’s better without her.”

And I guess with The Bod it bothers me because he’s been married before – so he can clearly commit.  Even if I deduced by my google stalking that she may have been a lesbian.  😉

And I guess the other part that bothers me, in general, about boys these days is the total and complete lack of follow-through. Dammit boys. Say what you mean and mean what you say. It’s not that fucking hard. And provide some closure if you decide that things aren’t going the way you want. Just fading away is the most popular, but most heart breaking way to end things because it leaves the other person wondering why they’re such a loser.

As T says, “It’s just so unprofessional.” Haha. It is!  I mean, are they like this at work to? Do they not respond to emails or calls for months at a time? NO. Because they’d fucking get fired. So why is it ok to be so non-communicative in personal lives? It’s not like I’m looking for a 20 minute discussion about our feelings, but I don’t want to hear, “Yeah, we’ll hook up when I get back” when there’s no intention in that ever happening.

You know the only guy I have that I see consistently, responds to texts and follows-up on plans? MY TRAINER. And that’s because I pay him.

 

 

 

So after deleting out all those numbers in my phone yesterday, I felt figuratively lighter. I’m trying to declutter everything – my closets, my fridge, my phone, my life.

But then me and a friend went out last night, for what was supposed to be just a couple of drinks. Yeah…. we got home at 2 am after 3 shots and multiple drinks with these boys we met. BOYS. WE MET BOYS.

And I really mean boys. They were 24.  MORE THAN 10 YEARS YOUNGER! Both are med students here on rotation  — they were funny and flirty, and actually it was my friend who’d turned around to talk to them at first and I was so annoyed because all I could think was “Why is she talking to them?!”

I didn’t mind so much when I was making out with one of them later that night.

The thing that makes no sense to me, and probably never will, is why boys love a mean girl. I wasn’t all out a bitch to them, but I wasn’t particularly nice either. Although med students, they were young and dumb – the bar was playing 80s music, but then one who claimed to ‘love it’ couldn’t identify any song/band (have you ever heard of the go-go girls?? NO. You have not.)  So I made fun of them, but in their defense, they weren’t even born when half those songs came out.

And… back to feeling old as dirt.

Also, my friend was born in India, so she has a smallpox scar. The one child doctor couldn’t identify it, which I could not believe and flat out asked him:

“Jesus. How can you not know that?!? What kind of doctor are you?!?!!?”

Uh yeah. I think I actually hurt his feelings on that one.

Anyway, we naturally paired off and I was chatting with my little boy and making out a bit (although, when he put his hand on my boob, I swiftly removed it cause I am classy like that) and I asked him:

“Why are you talking to me? Go meet someone your own age.”

And I totally meant it. Why is he talking to me?!?! And he says:

“I like you. I don’t know if it’s your men’s cologne you like to wear, or your personality or how pretty you are but you are so fun. “

I may have rolled my eyes.

You guys! I am a jaded cynical bitch who just deleted 32 numbers of stupid boys who all said some variation of the same bullshit.

I DO NOT BELIEVE ANYTHING COMING OUT OF HIS MOUTH.

So anyway, he continues:

You know, I’ve got other priorities while I’m here in town, but if this goes well, we could make this a priority. We can figure things out. After my rotations are done, I can choose where I want to go, so maybe it’ll be here. We could have beautiful half-white, half-Indian babies.

Ok, at this point, I was flat out laughing.  He then asked the inevitable question of “Why are you single?”

And I told him the truth: “I get bored really easy. I don’t make it past a few dates.”

And it was his turn to laugh: “So, I should always entertain you, huh? I can definitely do that. You won’t get bored with me.”

It is sweet to hear, no doubt. But…. why can’t I hear that from anyone my age!?!? Like “The Bod”?!!? Why does it never come from the person you want it come from? And this kid’s sweet and cute (and he is a cocky fucker who knows both of those things about himself) but he is 24. So sure, he can say all this shit because it doesn’t matter and it doesn’t mean anything. It’s just lines at a bar when everyone’s pretty buzzed.

And as flattering as it was, it did make me sad that I wasn’t hanging out with “The Bod” because I hadn’t gotten bored with him yet. I know I just need to move on, but my feelings are definitely hurt with him not calling or wanting to hang out again, especially since I don’t know what I did wrong. And maybe it wasn’t me, maybe it was his own shit that got in the way, but that doesn’t make it hurt less.

But, all of that said, I took his number (and gave him mine, and told him to call/text after his tests are done this week) and I’m supposed to see Doogie Howser next weekend – let’s see if it really happens. Because 24 can definitely be good for some things 😉

It’s a legit question. There’s a neon sign flashing above me that only weirdos can see and I have to figure out a way to change what it says.

Last night, I was out with the boys. Dinner with drinks, bar with drinks, second bar with drinks, strip club with drinks, second strip club with drinks.  I should be passed out in a ditch somewhere with how many I had….

In any case, it was my friend, R, and his friends and coworkers. There was one guy, B, who seemed nice but not super flirty with me. Cute, funny – I enjoyed chatting with him and overheard him mention, in another conversation with someone else, that he’s married. He didn’t tell me directly, nor does he wear a ring.

By the second strip club, we were all feeling gooooooooooood. And he and I were feelin’ each other. We kissed.

We go back to my friend’s place, it’s 4am by this point and we drink some more. I drunkenly DEMANDED we play “True Americans” – but nobody would listen to me or look up the rules. Super bummed!!!

There’s 4 boys, plus me, all crashing at my friend’s place – so me and B, of course, take the guest room and get busy.

We’re making out, clothes are coming off, and his hands are down my pants when he finally decides to say, “You know, I love my wife.”

REALLY????!???? I’D BELIEVE THAT MORE IF YOU WEREN’T ON TOP OF ME TAKING MY CLOTHES OFF!

I’m annoyed now, so I tell him we’re not having sex. Him: “Why not?”

Me: “Because I don’t know where you’ve been and I don’t trust you. I hope you use protection so you don’t take anything back to your wife.”

I do take care of him though, clean up and come back out and he’s half asleep. Oh… hell no. I tell him to wake up and finish me off. There was NO WAY he was gonna get out of that.

He did, and we’re just chatting and because I’m a needy bitch at times, I ask him: “When’d you know you wanted to sleep with me?” (Yes, I love knowing WHEN boys decide things. I can’t help it.)

Him: “I can’t answer that.”

Me: “Why?”

Him: “Because I’m married.”

WHAT?!?!?!? ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME? MAYBE YOU SHOULD’VE REMEMBERED THAT WHEN YOUR FACE WAS BETWEEN MY LEGS!

This asshole. Now, comes his guilt and near tears. Seriously, I’m SO ANNOYED.

So he says, “You know, I don’t know why I’m telling you this but I just really need to feel validated by women. I need to know that they want me. My mom passed when I was little and it really fucked me up, so now…”

DO I LOOK LIKE OPRAH?!!? IS IT THE 4AM THERAPY HOUR?!!?!?!?!? ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME WITH THIS SHIT?!!?!?!?

Luckily, he did not see me roll my eyes. He did hear me say, “Well, stop cheating on your wife. That’ll help you feel better.”  He then goes on to tell me that even though I’m such an awesome girl, he LOVES his wife and wants to be with her and this only happened because of the alcohol.

Uh, thanks, DICK. It’s not like I thought he was going to leave her for me, but glad we clarified it.  SO THEN, because he will not just shut the fuck up and go to sleep, he says, “Please don’t tell R.”

Now, R is my friend. R is also B’s friend. R is also B’s manager at work. So B is totally freaked the fuck out that R is going to realize he cheated on his wife and that will reflect poorly on him at work and screw up his career.

First of all, what did B think everyone else thought when we WENT TO THE SAME BEDROOM?!?!?! AND WHEN WE KISSED AT THE BAR?!!?

But secondly, his fear of R figuring out what we did and “punishing” him at work was what was driving his “guilt” – I do believe he loves his wife, but I am 100% convinced he was MORE worried about his career. If I wasn’t R’s friend, I don’t think I would’ve gotten half the “I feel so guilty” bullshit.

I didn’t pursue him and I didn’t start anything, and would’ve slept on the couch just happily – HE kissed me, HE led me to the room, HE made the first move and I was in the mood for a fun night with a cute boy. It’s not my responsibility to keep him faithful – that’s on him. And, I already knew this isn’t the first time he cheated. And he’s been married only 6 months. And he’s only 26.

Jesus fucking Christ. His poor wife is in for what my friend went through (the one who got cheated on by her husband) – he’s not going to stop. My friend and I actually talked about it today, because while I didn’t feel guilty in the context of him and his wife, I felt SUPER guilty thinking about how devastated she was when she found out. She was the first person I texted this morning to tell, and she and I both agree that he’s a total narcissist. He totally gets off on being wanted by women and then goes on to put on this “I feel so guilty act,” which I think was supposed to then make me feel bad for him and his conflict and in turn tell him he’s not a bad person.

Wrong girl for that. He told me at some point during the night that he couldn’t ‘do this’ anymore and I was going to be the last one ever. I don’t know if I’m flattered or offended, really. I don’t believe him either way.

I got dropped off at my place this morning at 7am after sleeping for an hour. Slept for another hour in my own bed and then went to work. I am too old for this shit.

 

 

 


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