Cringeworthy – Page 2 – A Series of Very Bad Decisions

Now I’m a Delilah caller

I used to listen to Delilah in high school/college, though I am not sure why. But I feel like all her calls are one of two extremes: some over the top in love person rubbing it in our faces, in which D will play one of three songs she keeps in rotation, or the person that just had their heart wrenched out of them through their feet and feels like there is no other option than to call this random bitch and tell her and then she goes and plays some stupid irrelevant song like “Somewhere Out There.”

Last night, I told Bachelor #3 we needed to take a break. He sent me a text that, while was completely a joke, made me extremely upset because of the intent behind the text. It was that wake up call I needed – he would be FINE with me dating other people, while the thought of HIM dating other people is like nauseating.

So, after I calmly told him that we clearly weren’t on the same page and I had to jump ship, I lost my shit in the parking garage. But at least I didn’t cry on the phone.

It’s for the best, because the more we hung out, the further in I fell, while he stayed in the same place. Plus. I don’t know. I don’t get what he sees when he looks at me. Gisele, I am not. I look in the mirror, and see

which means the constant stress of worrying that eventually he’ll realize I’m a 5 AT BEST was totally cutting in to my fun.

So, it sucks, but it had to happen. And now….?

I’m a Britney Spears song

I’m still hanging out with Bachelor #3. We’re in quite the grey area right now and it’s too soon to ask him to define anything, lest I send him running for the hills. Yes, I am aware it’s my own fault. And while things are going well and we seem to have moved past the misunderstandings we’ve had, I still consider him a flight risk. But mostly, I like him. I like the way he laughs, and that we can talk about anything, and I love the way he teases me, and holds my hand, and remembers random things I tell him, and etc etc etc. I don’t like that he’s still trying to maintain some sort of distance and that I am stressing out about even texting him right now because he’s obviously not ready for something serious and I need to respect that and why is dating so FUCKING hard? I’m also just biding my time until he disappears.

You know all the rules – don’t appear too eager, let him come to you, play hard to get, etc.

And if I follow them or I don’t, it never really matters. They disappear anyway. In fact, I am curious as to why B3 hasn’t disappeared already. We made plans to hang out this past Sunday and watch football, so I asked him if he wanted to pick me up before the first games started. He said it would depend on how late he was out on Saturday. I spent a good portion of the early hours of Sunday morning convinced he was blowing me off, and it was over, when it reality, he only ended up picking me up 30 minutes later than I had originally suggested.

We ended up having a lot of fun, but now I’m not sure what our next plan is.

What I WANT to do is ask him to go to Catalina for the day or something, because as much as I love watching sports with him, we need to do something else, but I’ll probably come off looking like this:

So, there’s the part of me that thinks he likes me and he’s just not ready, and the other side of me that thinks he’s Gamey McPlayerson. Except … I don’t know – take Mr. Titspervert for example. He told me he didn’t want anything serious and dropped off the face of the planet. B3 told me he didn’t want anything serious but is sticking around for whatever reason. Between Mr. TP and John Doe, my basis for comparison is so fucked up I don’t know my head from my ass:

This is all very confusing. I’ll see myself out.

In a move I like to call: you’re a moron…

I thought things with Bachelor #3 were done. Over the weekend I got another apology, minus an explanation, plus the whole, “I want to be friends more than anything” speech.

Eye-roll. I could have responded in one of three ways:

1 – Completely ignore him

2 – Tell him to go fuck himself

3- Agree to be friends because guys never mean it anyway and who cares

I stupidly chose option 3. Apparently he was serious, and told me he was going to pick me up on Sunday morning and we were going to go watch football.

Everything was fine, except he picked up the tab, which does not align with being friends. And we had a blast – at least I did, who knows what he was thinking. He even threatened to buy me a Maurice Clarett jersey for Christmas as part of his imposed therapy and insistence that I get over the end result of the 2003 Fiesta Bowl (that was not FUCKING pass interference!!).

(Side note: I’ve finally figured out how to tell if you’re on a date in Southern California, and that is whether or not they walk you to your car. If they do, it’s a date, if they leave you to fend for yourself in an eight story parking garage – probably not.)

Anyway. So it’s fine, I am thinking okay, we’ll be friends, because I’m still new here and he’s fun, and I don’t want to give up fun even though the pendulum of “fucked up” has already swung back and forth numerous times between “awww” and “run for your life” in the precisely three weeks that I have known him.

But Monday when I asked him if I could buy him drinks later this week because he’s paid for everything else, I get a text back saying he needs me to know that he’s a dick when it comes to dating (pause for reaction)…

…and that he sees the way I look at him when we kiss and he doesn’t want to hurt me.

First of all: SO MUCH CONDESCENSION.

Second of all: That ship has already sailed far far away after our third date.

Third of all: You have paid for everything we’ve done so far including when you just wanted to be “friends” (pause to look up definition)…

…Then I offer to buy you some drinks and maybe throw in some baseball and all of a sudden the way I looked at you when you last kissed me over a week ago is now a problem?

To make matters worse, I got a barrage of OKCupid messages on Sunday night in a play I like to call the End of Weekend Blues. The candidates were as follows:

One guy listed on his profile weed as one of the six things he can’t live without and that the first thing people usually notice about him is how he gets down (??). One guy was 51. Automatic no. One guy could not get his subject/verb agreement right (You meet Jay Cutler), and one couldn’t form a complete sentence: “Good morning miss looking gorgeous and oh yeah Ohio not a real state ;)”.

So is it any wonder I want to continue to hang out with Hottie McHott even though he’s kind of a prick? When he’s not being a prick, he’s fun. I know, I know, I’ve learned nothing.

Already? Already

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.

Bitch, please: Cosmo’s horrible texting advice.

I stumbled upon this “What Does His Text Mean” article filed under “dating advice” on Cosmo’s web site. It’s a whole bunch of WTF. Most guys say what they mean -no translation needed. And yet, here we are…

1. The send a pic text – Cosmo says: “Consider the recipient and make sure it’s someone you really trust. “This is the text that guys send to see how far they can get you to go,” says Henderson. “It rarely ends well. Our rule: If you wouldn’t send it to your mother, don’t send it.”

Bitch, Please: Thanks, Captain Obvious. DOES HE OR DOES HE NOT WANT TO SEE ME NAKED? What if he already has? What if he sends it to his friends? What if it ends up on Deadspin? I can tell you it means this is not serious relationship material. They want to cruise right on past Relationship Central and into Boot Scootin’ Booty and sending pics of yourself other than being w/friends, fully clothed, at a social event, or one of your middle finger, is just a bad idea.

2. The noncommittal text = He’s just not that into you. And Cosmo’s expert says the same, so I won’t Bitch, Please this one.

3. The Double Text – Now we’re veering off the rails because Cosmo is talking about us being impatient central when Mr. Man takes longer than 70-seconds to respond to a text.

Bitch, Please: First of all, you’re off topic. Second of all, we KNOW what our back to back to back to back to back to back texts mean and we also probably know what their non-response means. That being said, what if he’s in a meeting or something? If you can’t wait a couple hours during the work day without panicking then there is a bigger issue at hand here.

4. The foodie text – Cosmo’s example is a little baffling: “Are you free for a quick bite right now?,” “Share a strudel with me? I just made one. I know it’s 2:36 am, but it’s really good!”

Bitch, Please: Why does this one need clarification? Are we now so desperate for meaning behind everything that we’re using ridiculous examples that never happen?

Which brings us to…

5. The Facebook Chat – First of all, not the same thing as texting, second of all, they use an example where two people haven’t met in person, therefore…

Bitch, Please: You are automatically disqualified.

6. The Grey Zone Text – No such thing. See #2. And bitch, please, now we’re repeating ourselves.

7. The Raincheck Text – According to our friends, “He’s not Houdini, but he just pulled a great disappearing act. Things were going swell; now getting him to respond to your texts and commit to plans is like pulling teeth. What’s up with that!?”

Bitch, Please: Your advice may be not to panic, which is true, but MY advice is see #2.

8. The Art of Bullshit Text – What does this even entail? Glad you asked! According to the all original Cosmo (the same magazine that has been recycling the same sex tips for at least 20 years rather than admitting it’s not rocket science), it entails something along the lines of “You looked better than Miranda Kerr in that dress last night.”

Bitch, Please: That’s just stupid. Who says that? That’s not even a compliment, really. A text like that circles back to #1 -they’re after something else. A true compliment is simply, “you look beautiful.” AND IS SAID IN PERSON, JESUS.

9. The One Worder – AKA “LOL” “HA” “K” 😉 or any other random emoticon. Cosmo says, “This can be like a dagger through the heart after you’ve spent so much brain-power trying to plan the perfect the flirty texts, only to get a simple one word response. Now instead of spending your time plotting witty banter, you are trying to dissect what he meant by “Ha.”

Bitch, Please: Text messaging has ruined communication. It is perfect for a quick, “on my way” or what have you, but one word answers are just as meaningless as those missives that read like Danielle Steel novels where he thinks he’s being sweet and you’re on the receiving end laughing and preying he’s drunk because who TEXTS that let alone says it? Why have witty banter over text? Save it for your next date!!!

That being said, yes I used to be guilty of all of this: not only of trying to craft the perfect response but of running it by 17 friends, throwing up a poll on Facebook, googling cute pick-up lines, crying for an hour-and-a-half over #s 2,3,6 & 7, and relying WAY TOO MUCH on my phone to get my flirt on. Now that I’ve stopped doing all of that, I am blissfully enjoying a quite phone and dormant love life. Hey, wait a minute….