Bitter is the New Black

Not that I'm bitter. Really. Today is a new day, boys and girls.

I hate to stereotype half of the human race, but as a rule men tend to be pretty formulaic. As long as they're pursuing, they're happy. When they catch their prey, not so much. There you have it. Profound, no?

Today's quote, in reference to how we should treat the friends in our lives (good) and how we should treat the shitty men in our lives (um, shitty):

"Men deserve whatever hell and misery you can dish out. Not other women." -- Mama Sanchez

I Don't Think Anyone Is Shocked By This

You Have a Melancholic Temperament

Introspective and reflective, you think about everything and anything.You are a soft-hearted daydreamer. You long for your ideal life.You love silence and solitude. Everyday life is usually too chaotic for you. Given enough time alone, it's easy for you to find inner peace.You tend to be spiritual, having found your own meaning of life.Wise and patient, you can help people through difficult times. At your worst, you brood and sulk. Your negative thoughts can trap you.You are reserved and withdrawn. This makes it hard to connect to others.You tend to over think small things, making decisions difficult.

href="What'>http://blogthings.com/whattempermentareyouquiz/">What Temperment Are You?

Since My Phone Still Ain't Ringing, I Assume It Still Ain't You

(There is probably only one person who reads this blog that will get that title song reference; Kim, I'm looking at you. I know how Gatling Gun feels about country music. Bella is probably too young and I don't know if LK listens to country - or did 20 years ago.)

So Flyboy is still not speaking to me for no apparent reason. I sent him a text message yesterdy and still, utter and complete radio silence.

Now what do I do? I have to get my watch back from him somehow, forcing me to continue to wonder when he might see his way clear to respond. Asshole.

I guess I'll call him in a few days if I haven't heard from him by then.

Day Five

We are entering Day Five with no word from Flyboy.

I figure there are a few different scenarios: 1) He started thinking about our Q&A period Tuesday evening and decided I may be reading more into this thing than he is, so his natural instinct was to RUN AWAY, RUN AWAY; 2) Along the same lines, he did indeed find this blog and was utterly horrified by how neurotic I am; 3) As per usual, he has been gradually losing interest since we first met and this thing met its natural expiration date; 4) He met someone else who he was utterly compelled by, as he was by me when we first began communicating.

Vote for which one you think is most likely!

I can let this go but one hiccup is that he has my freaking watch, my watch with the band made of typewriter keys, as in my favorite possession. He asked me to bring it because he knew a jeweler who he thought could fix it. In fact, he said Tuesday evening that he was going to try to take it there this week (which would have been last week). I'm thinking that if I haven't heard from him by Wednesday, I'll have to call him. Whether I ever see him again or not, I have to get that watch back!

Dating sucks. Rejection bites. He and I have been communicating for something like six or seven weeks now and I guess I thought at this point, if he hadn't lost interest, then maybe he wouldn't? Clearly, I live in a dream world.

Dear son leaves Wednesday and will be gone for almost a freaking week. That will leave me with so much time on my hands to obsess and wonder. And to drink, of course.

Brian called last night and we had a nice chat. He said again that he still wants to meet. He's another eharmony guy, as is Flyboy, as was Ted, as is CyberGuy, who I should say, I've been exchanging some interesting, thought-provoking emails with.

Move on, right?

Somebody Make Me Shut Up

I will try to keep the number of times I say, “I don’t know,” to a minimum, as Laura points out I repeat that phrase A LOT when I’m talking about Flyboy.

Tuesday evening I went back to the cabin and to meet him. We watched some TV, ate dinner, hung out. It was nice. Except the part where I asked him questions. Questions like, “What are your deal breakers?” And, “Say something sweet to me.”

Yeah, I know. Shut up. I have no idea why I say those kinds of things. I really don’t want to re-live the whole thing so I won’t go into details except to say that at one point, I asked him wasn’t he glad that I wanted to know what his deal breakers were and he laughed and said, “Well, uh, I GUESS,” in just that tone and continued by saying that he figures this is just him and either I like it or I don’t.

…

I felt supremely foolish by the end of the evening and told him so. He apologized and said he hadn’t meant to make me feel that way.

Clearly, I left feeling like I had made several tactical errors (bringing up the freaking deal breakers thing, letting him know I was curious as to what his were, further letting him know that I thought he would/should care that it mattered what his were, blah, blah, blah. Fuck this is tedious) although I couldn’t tell exactly how serious they were. I mean, I didn’t pout when my blatant attempt at fishing for information/compliment mongering didn’t work and we had a good time. But still.

He called that evening (good sign), but I was on the phone (that’s another story). He left a message and it was late by the time I got done so I called him back the next day, which was yesterday. And I haven't heard from him.

What do you make of that?

Danger, Will Robinson! Danger!

Ya'll.

We almost had a situation here at the blog the likes of which I can't even tell you about now, as I am trembling yet from the trauma. Or the thought of it, rather.

I barely dodged a bullet. Like heard it whistle as it passed just over my head, grazing my hair. It was NOT GOOD, people.

I was in near hysterics. Thank you, Laura and Claire, for talking me down.

Perhaps one day I can tell you all about it. Maybe.

It's Been a Long Time, Been a Long Time

Whoa I didn't realize it had been so long since I've posted!

Hm...and where to start. Well, to make a long, ridiculously detailed story short, I saw Flyboy Sunday afternoon. I met him in Batesville where I was meeting another friend and he and I went to his cabin at the lake for a few hours. Much fun. Our original plan, made late Friday afternoon, was for us to stay there that evening and I'd get up early and go back Monday morning. But. He ended up needing to be back in Memphis. We still had a good time.

This post is so freaking boring. Sorry.

It's like when things are going well, I avoid details because I think I'm going to jinx it or something? I am weird.

There are a couple of new cyber guys, well, Brian you already know about it, and then one other new one. But ya'll? I cannot drum up interest in these guys and I KNOW it's because I'm into Flyboy. Ugh. I hope I'm not being foolish. Okay, I'm being stupid enough. I'm going to stop now.

Um, lemme see if I can at least come up with some interesting memes or quizzes or something to put up here.

From Russia With Love

Go here:

http://www.callme.nm.ru/

Enter your name.

You're welcome.

Things That Make You Go Hmmm...

Now, where was I…

Flyboy called Wednesday night. He called Thursday night. He texted a couple of times Friday. He called Friday afternoon. He called Friday evening.

I’m thinking maybe I did overreact to his asshole email. Perhaps it was work stress and nothing more. It’s possible.

As I learned Friday evening that I’d be driving through his fair city the next day, he asked me to stop by. So I did and met his daughter, who is adorable and very poised. It was a nice visit. I talked to him that evening. And last night, too, as far as that goes.

It threw me a little bit, though, when he mentioned in passing that he didn’t know when we’d see each other again. His father, who is married, is having surgery Thursday and Flyboy said he’d be at the hospital all weekend. Which makes sense – I mean, I’m not *that* self absorbed, I just didn’t expect it, that’s all. My dad had the same surgery done a few years ago and I went to see him in the hospital, but I didn’t stay there with him. I don’t know. It’s good he’s close to his dad and wants to be there.

Of course, he could also have a date with somebody else. Anything is possible, I’ve learned. Unfortunately.

CyberGuy and I are keeping up a nice email correspondence. He is interesting to talk to. Or write to, whatever.

Then there’s Brian. He’s a new one – the guy who invited me to Jackson Saturday, which, of course, I didn’t go. I talked to him on the phone Thursday evening. He seems smart although awfully serious. Or maybe just a little shy or feeling awkward. He did mention that he wasn’t good at the dating game. He emailed Friday and said he’d call me over the weekend. He was about to lose points but he did phone last night around 9:00. However, I was IMing with Flyboy and another guy (who I’ve assured I can only be friends b/c I fucking am incapable of doing the dating thing it seems) so I didn’t answer. I guess I’ll call him back tonight.

Remember Tim, from Hattiesburg? He sent me a text last night, suggesting that if we got together again, we make it a trip to New Orleans. Whoa.

I responded with, Well, that’s something to think about. I mean, WTF? I didn’t really know what to say. Haven’t heard back from him.

My Weirdness Knows No Bounds

Sunday morning, whilst I was at Kroger, picking up some flowers for my sister in law, a new mommy, I got sad. Just right there in the middle of Kroger.

It’s something about those floral departments in grocery stores. I’ve noticed when I visit one I often hear myself sigh and leave with a vague sense of melancholy and discontent but I never exactly put my finger on it.

That morning, though, I got it. Those flowers – great masses of them – and this particular place had all my favorites – tulips in every color, bright splashes of gerbera daisies, snapdragons, ballet-shoe-pink roses – those flowers kind of get to me.

What makes me sad about grocery store floral department is the sentiment behind it. Conceivably if you’re dating someone and it’s your birthday or Valentine’s Day and they’re thinking flowers, they’re going to visit a good florist and order a lavish arrangement.

But at the grocery store – that speaks of domesticity, kicked back weekends lounging around, being at the comfortable with each other but not-(yet)-lazy-and-complacent stage. You know, Thursday after work, he stops by the store to pick up a few things for a nice weekend and to look for your favorite things because he likes to see the grin on your face, and hey, I bet she’d like some flowers. It’s last minute and unplanned and actually a little depressing, now that I think of it.

Ever so often I will treat myself to flowers and I don’t spend much money on them – less than $20. Let me tell you – I get $20 worth of pleasure from the flowers. I stop and admire them each and every time I pass by. I lean close and study the colors. I don’t pretend they’re from a guy (I may be weird but I’m not a psycho), I appreciate them because I got them for ME. And dammit I am fabulous enough to deserve them, however you want to define deserve.

I’m trying to reconcile this; on the hand I am happier than I have ever been in my life. Like, ever. I’ve never felt so free yet grounded and independent yet supported by friends and family. I feel creative and strong.

Yet at the same time, I wish for someone to share it with. And it rather pisses me off. I’m happy now, not pretend happy, not wishful wistful happy, but full on happy. So what’s my deal. Why the fuck do I think I have to have someone to share it with?

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not mooning about. I’m also not waiting for my prince to come – oh, no, I’m very proactive on the dating side. Some might call me a dating phenom. The term “cyberslut” has been bandied about by less kind people. Others might call me crazy for going to meet a complete stranger, but whatever.

I’ve had so many freaking dates. Lots of first dates. I’ve broken the three-date curse but haven’t had anything resembling a relationship. Why did I write this? Now I’m depressing myself.

Friday, on the way home? Maybe I’ll go by the grocery store and get myself some flowers. I deserve it, right?

I Hope You Hear This Song and It Pisses You Off

(Raise your hand if you get that 80s reference)

To recap, Flyboy did indeed call Wednesday night. The conversation went…fine…no mention was made of his asshole email or follow up text. In fact, the first words out of my mouth were, “So are we having some pissing contest I’m not aware of to see who can be the most stubborn?” He laughed and said he’d been really busy, flying his ass off. Whatever.

Whilst we were talking, he was going over his upcoming weekend and mentioned he may have to get someone to take him to a neighboring city that he’d had to fly out of. Said city happens to be where my Brother the Prince resides and before I could stop myself I said, “Oh, I’d love to go see my Brother the Prince!”

I hate when I do shit like that. It sounded like I was begging to drive from where I live to Memphis and then on to neighboring city just as an excuse to see him. Honestly, it wasn’t. It was just my freaking mouth engaging before the mind had given the go ahead.

He smoothly recovered and said, “Oh, yeah, I had forgotten Brother the Prince lives up there.” He went on to casually drop into the conversation that he’d have his daughter all weekend. So that takes care of that.

Still, though, a tactical error on my part. Like Internet Quasi-Celebrity Jason Mulgrew says, it always pays to be the party least interested. (I wish I would take the time to link to his post on that.)

He called last night and we talked briefly; he was tired and getting up at the buttcrack of dawn this morning.

Here’s the thing. After being so emotionally overwrought for a couple of days, I’m not sure what I have left for him. I had resigned myself, nay convinced myself, that I’d not hear from him again, had mourned our brief “relationship” or whatever and when I felt I had sufficiently beat myself up about it, felt I was “moving on.” (Whenever I say something I feel stupid saying, I put it in quotes to add irony so I don’t feel like such a butthead.)

The conversation Wednesday evening reminded me a lot of the polite and pleasant conversations I had with the Sheriff and Ted following our dates…you just know something has changed but not sure how/what/why. That’s what it felt like.

Life Coach Laura had convinced me a while back to always have a few balls in the air, to never but ever, put all my eggs in one basket. Not until said guy has sufficiently proved himself, anyway. Which sounds good in theory. However, the problem I have with that is that when one of these things go south and they always do in my experience, there are a couple of guys on deck already. Per Laura’s advice, I continue to communicate (casually – I’m not a complete cyberslut) with a guy or two. So when one thing blows up in my face, another guy seems to be ready to step up to the plate. On the heels of the Sheriff came Ted. After Ted was Flyboy.

All this to say, I have a hard time quitting dating cold turkey after a bad experience because there are always a couple of other guys who I’m beginning to get to know.

Case in point, there’s a cool guy in Jackson who’d like to meet me tomorrow. Another one in Baton Rouge who is emailing. I could conceivably go to Jackson tomorrow but I’d need to be back by 3:00 in order to pick up dear son. I don’t know. What do you think?

You've Got to Know When to Hold 'Em, Know When to Fold 'Em

As it turns out the gamble blew up in my face. Apparently the 48-Hour Rule is an excellent way to ensure that you will never hear from a guy again. Or conversely, it can be a valuable tool in determining just how big of an asshole a guy is.

As you’ve probably gathered, there has been no word from Flyboy. Not. A. Peep. Like I said, I played the game and lost.

Well, to a point. The thing is, if he is really this big of a jerk/baby/mind fucker, it is far better I learn that now before I get even more sucked in. I didn’t do anything wrong here. However, I am so angry and disappointed at myself for being so wrong YET AGAIN. Apparently, I have zero intuition or perception. I rely on my gut instinct and it is seriously out of whack. Or it dislikes me very much and wants to see me suffer. There were no signs that a mind fucker lurked beneath. Really! (Tell them, Laura!) He pursued me, actively, for weeks. He called/texted/IMed/emailed after the first date. He damn well called/texted/IMed/emailed after the second date. In fact, right up until the minute he sent that asshole email, everything *seemed* fine, just as it had been from the start with him.

Wait – I think I’ve got it. And it’s an old song. The men-as-pursurers thing. That bullshit makes me want to scream. It seems that as long as I appear only semi-interested and aloof and mysterious, then these assholes simply cannot get enough and there are no limits to how fabulous they think I am. The minute, though, that I begin to accept dates and return said interest, that’s when they go limp. So to speak.

What a bunch of wusses.

Ya’ll, I don’t think I can’t take much more of this. It’s hurtful, embarrassing, painful, and makes me so angry at myself that I’m talking to myself in a tone and with language that I wouldn’t use to verbally annihilate an enemy. It is not worth it.

All that to say, the big baby may call tonight with some perfectly plausible explanation. But I’m not holding my breath.

The 48-Hour Rule

Do you know about this? It was a new one on me. Apparently, you should make a guy wait 48 hours to hear from you, in certain situations.

And my current situation qualifies as everyone but me agrees, seeing as how he sent an email all but kissing my ass goodbye after not returning a phone call from me the night before.

I'm saying the 48 hours starts at11:21 Sunday night when I got that asshole-blowing-me-off-email from Flyboy. You know he sent a normal email yesterday afternoon, right? He called last night. I was actually on the phone when he called so that made it easier not to answer. He left a message, asking him to call him back, which I didn't do per instructions.

I spent much of yesterday and the evening being coached by Laura. She was my lifeline yesterday because I must admit I felt literally sick after the first email I got from him. It was a big ole slap in the face and out of nowhere. Anyway, under the coach's instruction, I am not to respond in any way to him for 48 hours.

That seems so rude! I protested, saying I had never done that before, kept a guy hanging for two freaking days. Even as I was saying those words, I thought about the definition of insanity: doing the same thing over and over yet expecting different results. Hmmmm.

So I am trying this new thing, stringing this guy along, I guess is what I'm doing. I'm uncomfortable in the role and honestly, feel like a manipulative bitch and mean. And I'm also all too aware that this could totally blow up in my face.

Which leads me to another point...I'm considering emailing him late this afternoon, just before I leave work. I'm sure he's flying so who knows when he'll check his email. On the other hand, maybe I should wait until I get some kind of communication again from him before I respond. What do you think?

(As far as The 48-Hour Rule, I realize I'm fudging a bit but really - 5:00 this afternoon is in the relative ballpark of 11:20, right?)

While it is true that I feel like I'm being mean and plain rude by not responding, it is also true that part of the reason why I'm ready to respond is because I'm afraid he'll lose interest by my doing this hard-to-get shit. I know, it's pathetic. I hated even typing those words but it's the truth.

I do realize that if he loses interest that easily and that quickly, then he's not worth having. But still.

Feedback, folks! What do you think of all this?

We Won't Be Fooled Again

About a month ago, after The Great Ted Debacle, Laura all but begged me to quit this whole online dating mess and focus just on me - the book, my new place, whatever. Miss Erica, a dear friend in Naples, Florida, suggested that I do the same. Smart ladies both and there they were encouraging me to do the same thing.

I'm pretty self-absorbed so doing this be a snap. But do you know why I don't do it? Because I'm an attention whore. I love a guy telling me I'm smart/pretty/funny/interesting/fun to talk to.

The problem comes when I begin believing my own PR. Or when I start believing the guy, period.

Laura pointed out to me a while back that I am particuarly subseptible to this online dining business because it's based on communication. As that's one of my favorite things, it's very seductive. It feels like you're really getting to know someone, that you're making a connection when, in fact, it may all be a load of shit. That's true when you meet someone in "real" life, too, but it seems much more rampant, for me, anyway with this venue.

Another theory that's been offered is that guys also fall prey to it. It's easier for them to open up online, as well, and maybe when they do meet you in person, they do their own private freakout because they've revealed so much to you, which manifests in their turning tail and running with little or no explanation.

All this to say, I had another email from Flyboy a little while ago. It was very casual, very oh, this is what's going on in my world today - about his work, etc.

So is it possible that he was, in fact, being honest in the earlier email and that he is not blowing me off??

I'm just not sure.

Ooops I Did It Again

I'm being stupid again, I think. Maybe. I don't know.

But first - back to where I left off.

Ya'll. I now have THE COOLEST patio you ever did see. I should post pictures. The only productive thing we did all weekend was at least, um, productive. If you could have seen what it looked like before...we (and by we, I mean I) dragged old nasty-ass carpet and linoleum out from the patio area. We attempted to level the earthen floor using old-world farming implements. My dad brought me a couple of chemical barrels from his airstrip and we placed an old door from my house astride them and voila! Instant bar, which was Kim's idea and a great one. It's the perfect landing spot for beer bottles, ashtrays, and whatnot.

It's now the ultimate in white trash chic.

Friday I took dear son to meet his dad, who was so late and who I ended up driving damn near Jackson to meet, not that I'm bitter or anything and when I got back - my girls had strung lights up outside and I just cannot tell you how freaking cool it is! We had the best time, sitting out there, listening to the new wind chimes they bought me and admiring the lights whilst we talked and chatted and laughed. And drank, of course.

Anyhoo, after lunch at the local Huddle House the next morning, I headed to Memphis to see Flyboy. And I was so freaking nervous, too. Not sure why but I made my way to his house (easy to get to, thank goodness, as I generally don't do all that well with driving directions). He had cleaned his house (could smell the Pine Sol when I walked in the door), had made a chocolate pie, and was putting together a chicken pot pie. I know, isn't that something? I find it sweet, almost touching, that he had gone to the trouble he had.

We left and took a ton 'o pictures. He's into photography and seems to be good at it. We got back to his house, he finished the pot pie and made cornbread. We ate, drank, talked, watched a few movies, blah, blah, blah. Had a good time.

Starting today, his flying schedule will be Monday through Friday, with two days off. Which sounds okay, only it really sucks. That doesn't leave him much, or any, time to see his daughter, wash clothes, run errands, etc. Before I left, I may or may not have made a tactical error by saying, So when will we get to see each other again? He said that my guess was as good as his. Nothing terribly alarming about that response.

He asked me to call when I got home, so he'd know I made it there safely, which I did. We IMed briefly that afternoon. I had plans that night and after I got home, called and got his voice mail, asked him to call me. And no word from him. Now. In the month or so since we first met online, that's a first, his not returning a phone call.

This morning I had an email from him that he sent last night that said he was going on a phone strike, that he is way stressed about work/career stuff (and he is), and that he didn't want me to think he was ignoring me because he likes me, but I may not hear from him for a while (whatever than means) although he may not be able to resist texting me from work (whatever THAT means). Also that he was turning in early and hoped he'd wake up in a better mood. He also said that he wouldn't be ignoring me.

WTF? This stings a little. It seems strange. Is this a blow off couched in the terms of work stuff? It's a little upsetting and I'm not sure what to make of it.

Okay, ya'll. Comment, pretty please. I need some help with this one.

Oh, CyberGuy redeemed himself Friday, too. Think I jumped the gun on that one; had another email from him less than an hour later and it was quite nice.

Tyler Durden emailed Saturday, saying that he hoped me and my friends were enjoying our backyard beach party weekend, which I thought was sweet.

Really, folks please comment or email and let me know what you think about all this.

My Friends and I Would Like Some Omelettes...

Only like three people will get that but they'll find it uproariously funny. Although I know inside jokes are rude. Sorry.

I need to make time for a serious update - but for a quick one: Saw Flyboy Saturday evening and we had a good time. Homeboy can cook! It's a long story so I'll need to elaborate more later.

Laura and Kim came down and spent a couple of days with me and we had a really good time, although my liver is screaming in protest. Ugh.

More later...

A Quickie

Last week, CyberGuy sent me a nice long email, to which by Thursday, I hadn't responded as I was too preocupied with Flyboy. Finally that afternoon, I sent him a brief two-line, "I'm really busy but will write soon," thing. Sunday afternoon he emailed again, because he hadn't heard from me. Which I thought was sweet.

So I emailed him back, carefully keeping the tone friendly yet not flirty, casual yet not flippant. He responded the same day and asked a few more questions, which I answered the following day.

A little while ago, I get this rather snarky email from him that says something like, I'm doing the best to respond to all your emails. I'm like, WTF?

And THEN he goes one step further, b/c I've asked him twice if he'd read my book yet, and says something along the lines of, I've skimmed it, but honestly doesn't think it's really the type of book you just sit and read. Rather if you're interested in a certain food, you go and look it up and read about it.

DUDE. Don't be dissing my book. I mean, SHIT.

I have just been insulted. I mean, really.

Asshole.

What a jerk!!! Oh my goi. Still cannot believe he actually said that.

Continued

Sunday. Flyboy meets me in Batesville before we go out to this family's cabin out in the boonies near Sardis Lake. After we get to the cabin, he says, Aren't you glad we met Friday? And he's right - it would have been a strange first date, going waaaaay out there with someone who I don't really know.

I was nervous, just, I don't know, the situation. So what to do when you're nervous and alone in the middle of nowhere with a near stranger? Why drink, of course! I had my first shot ever of Jagermeister. And another. And later on, another. Yep. As one might imagine, that calmed me down so that he and I could talk properly without my giggling (I giggle like crazy when I'm nervous). We sat outside on the pier and talked for a while. It is really nice out there; if I was him, I'd be there about every weekend.

But it was hot outside, so we went back in, watched a movie, made out for a while. He is a good kisser. For real. It was fun.

Later we ate dinner, watched another movie, drank more beer. Eventually, we just turned the volume down on the movie we were half watching and listened to music instead. That was fun. I'd make a request, he'd find it on his laptop, we'd sing. It was just fun, hanging out with like that.

Later that night, we sat on the pier and talked some more. He says when we came back in, I stumbled about, grasping furniture as I tried to navigate to the bookcase where the movies were, as I was bound and determined to watch something else. That done, I sat down beside him, handed him a CD and said, Play number six. He said I then promptly passed out. I prefer to think of it as taking a nap, but whatever. He woke me up about 20 minutes later with a glass of water, which I gulped down before going to sleep.

Already, I am not hearing the end of how I wussed out and fell asleep. In my defense, we had been drinking since something like 4:00 that afternoon and the passing out took place well after midnight. That ain't bad, especially for a girl.

I left the next afternoon and have had a semi-freakout since then. I'm thinking I *like* him and it freaks me out. He gives the impression that he likes me, too, but still it's disconcerting.

I wondered what it would be like this week, but I've heard from him everyday AND we have plans to get together Saturday evening. Although...said plans came about kinda because I let him know I'd be in the area, as I'm driving a friend back to Oxford Saturday afternoon, so I'm a little...unsure...or something as to whether we would have gotten together otherwise. I mean, I *think * we probably would have but I guess I'd just feel a little better about it had he brought it up. But really, does it matter that much? I'm guessing if he didn't want to see me, he easily could have come up with an excuse, right?

Of course, I'm such a complete neurotic girly girl that I'm ALREADY wondering if he'll suggest seeing me after this weekend.

Geez. I fucking hate being like this.

In other news, I emailed Tyler Durden Tuesday and heard back from him yesterday. He apologized for not writing, asked I was, how the writing project was coming along. He's exhausted and ready for a break.

I've had a couple of nice long emails from CyberGuy, as well.

So. Again. What do you think?? What does this sound like to you??