This week is even less entertaining than last week. I literally have not participated in shit all week.
Unless you count maybe, possibly, having offended a fellow I was chatting with exclusively. I excel at offending well-meaning, nice guys. It’s a talent, y’all.
All I had to do was fall asleep while texting.
Days later and I don’t care. If he talks to me again, fine. If not… I’m sure someone else will. It’s pretty much the way life goes.
I don’t even have any good messages from my dating apps. I got a repeat on the lasers in my eyes. I got a guy who messages me every six days though I never message him back and I have not checked his profile since the first message.
IndiscriminateDouches just came through with a new one!
“Hi, I’m a computer. Can I crash at your place?”
Really, I should just tell these guys that these lines don’t work but there are a few reasons I don’t.
1. There have to have been women who responded to this nonsense. Either it works on them or they engaged and the guys got the attention they wanted.
2. Engaging these fellows will give them hope and assure them the line works.
3. The lame line means they did’t read my profile. That bothers me.
It is hard to read profile after profile only to realize no one is reading yours. I’m pretty specific and to the point. I will not randomly hook up. I don’t have that in me. It doesn’t feel good. So, I don’t. Penis-pics I imagine are supposed to show a girl what a guy’s got to offer. All I see is a reason I don’t want that penis in my life.
I get blindsided enough in my life, I don’t want to add to it unnecessarily.
I’m not giving up. I definitely have no plans to be the cat lady, though that is the easiest route. If I’m going to spend my energy, it’s going to be worth it.
I read; comics, novels, autobiographies of the fantasy/sci-fi/horror/humor/dramatic variety. I watch TV/Movies: sci-fi, drama, action, foreign. I write; short stories; novel-sized monstrosities that no one ever sees. I listen to music; rock, classic rock, alternative, indie and oldies. I play Tetris and Guitar Hero. I cook okay, I bake fantastically. You want salsa that’ll singe your eyebrows, I’m your girl. I speak English, some bad Spanish and some bad Russian.
I have an unsexy limp that I’m learning to love and an anxiety disorder I’m starting to actually manage.
I’m trying not to bring my baggage forward but I’m not trying to ignore it either.
Non-cuddly baby, third child, bookworm, Ducky, neurotic, untrusting, socially-awkward woman who is learning how not to take shit at work.
I like to laugh. I LOVE to laugh. I just want someone to do all that stuff with. Someone that I’ll miss when they’re gone and love while they’re here.
Talking and getting to know a person is the easy part. Figuring out if you can handle their presence on a daily basis is huge and weird and… Getting close is the hard part. It’s easy to tell a person where you’ve been. How do you tell them where you are and where you’re going if you’re not totally sure yourself? Then you gotta match that up with someone who’s willing to share that uncertainty with you?
Every once in a while, I look ahead and I know that it’s gonna happen. I’m pretty awesome.
I’ve developed several litmus tests. I have a panel of friends who are willing to put any guy to the test. So, my job is to find one worth of that.
It’s an awfully exciting adventure.