The time is here for me to come out of my moving-to-California hiatus and update this bitch.
The move went relatively smoothly minus my giant breakdown around 2 am in Vegas. The stress of everything came crashing down on me. Whereas while I was still in Chicago it manifested itself in other ways (loss of appetite, mostly) in Vegas I just started sobbing for the following reasons:
1) Still not over my end-of-April job loss. It wasn’t losing the actual job, it was the way it happened and that I didn’t hear from coworkers whose weddings I had been to or spent every day working side by side with – it was as if I didn’t exist. And that still bothers me.
2) John Doe, because of course.
3) Feeling like a giant failure in general, which had been piling up on me for the better part of four months. Ironic; you’d think moving here for a new job would make me feel accomplished, and it did for the most part, but leaving Chicago and my friends behind was hard, and all this emotion that I thought would come out earlier just all unleashed itself at the same time.
So, emotional breakdown over with, Katie and I got into Irvine the Friday before Labor Day. My last week in Chicago, it was suggested I reactivate my OK Cupid profile to see what Orange County had to offer in terms of single gentlemen. I changed my zip code on my profile but updated nothing else, in that it still said I lived in Chicago, blah blah blah, I hate Ohio State, the end.
Saturday night I get a message from a cute, normal dude we’ll call Bucky. We messaged/texted and made plans for Monday (Labor Day). I should throw it out there that based on PREVIOUS OKC dates, my expectations for this one were rock bottom. We met at 2 pm. Eight and a half hours later, I got home. It was an amazing date, easily the best of my life. You know, everything goes right, you laugh, you click, there is never an awkward pause in conversation, you impress him with your 1985 Final Four knowledge and he even says, “best first date ever,” and that he’s “enamored.”
But no. No, there was no second date. How is that possible? I’m glad you asked! Bucky is not over his ex. GOD WHERE HAVE I HEARD THAT BEFORE? I’ve used that excuse more than once, true or false. He told me how amazing I was and how he’d never connected with anyone like that in his life BUT he needed time…and then he offered to set me up with someone else after referencing Two and a Half Men, at which point I tuned him out. Are you fucking KIDDING me, dude? If you’re not ready to date, don’t join a dating web site.
It’s baffling that before I’d even been here a week I was involved in guy drama. I was HOPING to leave that behind in Chicago. However, it gets worse. I saw Bucky this past Saturday afternoon at a bar, though he didn’t see me (at least I don’t think), and I didn’t talk to him, because I assumed it would be awkward. But after he was gone, I sent him a text, “Hey I think I just saw you at XYZ bar.” This really was not meant to be a stalker text, it really was meant to be, “I think I saw you”, with the fruitless hope of the “yeah I just left there, come meet us later at ABC bar” type of response. But no. NO. INSTEAD, I get a text saying he was in another state this weekend. If by another state you mean ten fucking feet in front of me, then yes, I agree. Otherwise…no. And furthermore, I don’t get the lie. Why not just ignore me like JD would have?
So because I am a paranoid freak and I over-analyze everything, I drew all of the following conclusions:
1) He didn’t see me, and when I texted him, he didn’t want me to know he had been there and didn’t see or talk to me.
2) He didn’t see me, and when I texted him, he didn’t want ME to think I had said hi to someone who I thought was him so his excuse for theoretically ignoring me was that it wasn’t him because he was in another state. (Highly unlikely)
3) He saw me and bolted.
4) Even though his back was to me, one of his friends caught me staring, pointed me out, they rushed paying the check and bolted.
It doesn’t matter, ultimately, because I shouldn’t have texted him so please don’t lecture me.
Aren’t you glad my dating ineptitude travels with me? You’re welcome.