currylove

Posts Tagged ‘stupid things i do

I’d talked to this guy I met on an Indian dating site and after our first awkward discussion, 2 minutes into the 2nd conversation, he asked if he should come visit.

Sure. Why not. I’m not doing anything else anyway so he dutifully purchased his ticket and we had a day-long date this past weekend.

I appreciate that he was willing to fly in and out in one day, instead of staying over – knowing the date was going to end at a set point made it easier.

Not that he was horrible, he wasn’t. He’s fine. He’s also mumbly and sometimes I really could not hear what he was saying because he would mumble and then get softer and softer and softer until I literally had to ask “I’m sorry, what?”

For whatever reason, he really wanted to go go-karting. I offered a couple of other options, but he was stuck on go-karts. Ok, whatever. Let’s fucking pay money to drive in laps when I can just fill my own car up with gas and do the same damn thing.

So go-karting we went. I hated it. It’s not fun, I don’t like being that low to the ground and got lapped multiple times by teenage boys. ARGH.

We played some other arcade games and didn’t drink. DID NOT DRINK.  I was driving us all over the damn city so I didn’t feel like I should partake, but he didn’t drink either… I think he does? I didn’t ask, but maybe he was just being nice.

The thing is, the day was fine. He was fine. But do I want to have babies with him? No. If we were just going to be room-mates, sure, it’d be no problem. But he’s so quiet and he literally said about himself that he’s a “loner” (his words). I’m not.

I think my parents have been right all along…all the good ones are taken.

chocolates

I know… it should’ve been over awhile back. But I didn’t have the balls to do it*.

And, it’s not like we’ve been talking every night since Philly visited. Mostly he calls or texts, and I ‘forget’ to call or text him back. Again, I know. Awful.

So anyway, we finally chatted tonight and after some bullshit, he just flat out asked:

Do you think this is going anywhere? What are you feeling?

I mean – to his credit, he doesn’t beat around the bush.

And I stuttered out my thoughts, which went something like:

Ummmmm, well, I didn’t really feel like there was any chemistry, did you? I mean, I don’t know… what do you think?

And he  goes,

Well, I really had a lot of fun with you but I wasn’t sure how you felt. Did you want to meet again? I mean, I definitely feel like you’re a keeper, as opposed to you know, a FOB.

I really wanted to tell him AGAIN that FOBs are just people. Like us!

But I had other things I needed to un-eloquently say:

That’s really nice, but ummmm. I don’t know. Ummmm…. I just didn’t think we had chemistry and I’m not sure if we should spend any more money and time given we live so far apart. I mean, not that we should let finances dictate things, but you know, umm…. well, like… I just think we’re better as friends.

In some ways, it’s good he brought it up because I clearly would’ve never said anything and just kept not calling or texting back in a timely manner*.  And I did like that straightforwardness about him. But I didn’t like anything else 😦

I was also really hoping he’d say he didn’t feel any chemistry either but no, he kept putting it back on me and then said:

Well when I was there that weekend, I didn’t know if we were just friends or you know, maybe the next level.

I DIDN’T HOLD HIS HAND BECAUSE I DIDN’T WANT TO TAKE IT OUT OF MY COAT POCKET.

HOW DID HE THINK THERE WAS ANYTHING GOING ON?

So again, I had to state that I thought there wasn’t anything else more.

And with that, he said his goodbyes, said the lie we all tell everyone, that we’d stay friends — and got off the phone.

I do feel bad. Worse than I thought it would, but because I’m all about me – I feel worse that here’s another one that should’ve worked but didn’t and it’s me.

It’s me me me me me. Because he would’ve made this work. It’s ME that couldn’t/wouldn’t/didn’t.

Sigh.

*Meanwhile, here’s Garfunkel and Oates summing up just everything about me, this whole situation and being a woman in general (Fade Away).

 

 

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.

So my parents aren’t giving up, but have been off my ass for a little while. And it’s due to one thing – I agreed to go to a matrimonial convention happening here in town.

This isn’t my first rodeo – I’ve been to them before, and they are NEVER as fun as the New Girl episode made it seem.  Basically, the first night is like a ‘party’ you didn’t want to go to, where nobody knows each other but is forced to make conversation. The second day, you show up, find your table, and speed date for HOURS. Literally, hours. You meet all the eligible bachelors who also got roped into going to this thing and then at the end, rank your ‘preferred’ partner.

If you rank each other as ‘first’ – it’s an automatic “first date” somewhere in the hall, with some more time to chat. If you don’t, well – it’s a lot like a school dance where you sit around until you get called to talk to someone.

It’s a cluster fuck of amazing proportions, it sucks, I hate them and I’m going next weekend. I’m debating taking a flask.

Basically, a few weeks ago, I was out with some girlfriends and my mom called and left a message, in which she TEARFULLY BEGGED me to go to this thing:

“Beta, Please just go. I don’t have a lot of money, but I can give you $25 to attend this. Please try.”

ARRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.

So, I signed up because my mom’s tears make me feel guilty beyond all hell for not fulfilling my Indian girl destiny to get married and procreate  by a reasonable age. Plus… hopefully… maybe… I’ll meet someone.

SO THEN… last night, I get a call from one of the helpers to go over some rules. I listened patiently – the theme for the first night (the more relaxed “getting to know each other” time) is “Fiesta.” I guess we’re going all out on the ethnic stuff then. I mean, we are the same color.

She says:

“Please wear something colorful, but nothing revealing.”

What. The. Fuck.

So…. I shouldn’t wear the new sequin shorts I bought for my Vegas trip ??? (Side note: they fit like a glove and I’d wear them to work if I worked as a stripper.)  And how in the hell did she already get the memo that my “girls” like to come out and play?

AND – the age range for this thing is 23 to 38, so I’m definitely trending upwards on that. I asked her what were the ages that were coming, and she says, “Well, for your table, everyone is within 1 to 2 years.”

Awesome. We are the old table. Hopefully the rest of my senior citizen counterparts are as fun as I am 😉

 

 

 

 

 

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.

 

 

 

My bathroom drawers were realllllllly bothering me – the kind of bothering where even when I was watching tv, I would think “Those drawers are a mess. I should clean them.” Not that I got up and did anything, but it has been nagging me for awhile.

So today… a perfectly beautiful Saturday afternoon, I put some laundry in and got to work.

First of all…. WHY DO I HAVE FOUR HAND SANITIZERS?!?!? AND WHY ARE THEY ALL 3/4 FULL???

I mean, I know why. Because when I need one for travel, I can’t find the ones I already have because I put nothing back in its place, so I think I don’t have any and I buy a new one. Now I have 4.

Second of all… WHY WAS THERE A CVS BAG WITH 2 UNOPENED LIP GLOSSES AND MINT 3 MUSKETEERS UNDER MY SINK?!!?

Again, I know why. Someone was probably coming over, and I shoved it under the sink thinking I’d grab it later … and forgot. The Mint 3 Musketeers is fabulous, by the way. Just the right amount of mint.  Fuck yeah I ate it.

Third of all…. WHY DO I HAVE SO MUCH SHIT?!?!?!

Not just in my bathroom drawers. Everywhere: Clothes, shoes, accessories (including scarves, gloves, jewelery), purses, tupperware, glasses, silverware, magazines, luggage, bedding, paper towels, hair care products, books, souvenirs.

EVERYTHING. Turns out, I’ve been keeping the American and African economies going ALL BY MYSELF.  I’m the Queen of Clearance sales… but I need to learn that just because something’s cheap doesn’t mean it has to end up in my place. Because, really – I live alone. Do I need 4 full size tubes of toothpaste? Was the sale on 3 for $3.50 Crest REALLY such a good sale when I can’t finish them?? I barely manage to brush my teeth twice a day – it’s not like they’re getting used up. SIGH.

I’m embarrassed by how much I have, annoyed at myself for having it, and mad that I sound like a hoarder.

No more shopping. For anything. Those 2 Kate Spade bags I just bought (on mega-sale, of course)? THE LAST OF THEIR KIND.

😉

 

 


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