Tuesday, March 12, 2013
Monday, March 11, 2013
Bend me, break me, breaking down is easy
I'm alive, I promise!
I went to Mexico last week for vacation, and it was wonnnnnderful. It was nice to leave the 40 degree freezingness and experience warm sunshine for a good five days. The only thing that would have made it perfect is less wind and higher temperatures, but I can't complain.
When I landed in the States on Wednesday, I eagerly turned on my phone to see if I had any texts or voicemails waiting. Turns out NO ONE attempted to contact me. I only told a few people about my trip, but at the same time, it would have been nice to have someone miss me! Feeling cranky, I posted the depressing experience to Twitter. To my surprise, D texts me: "Welcome back to the U.S., Lis!"
What. The. Fuck.
You ignore me for approximately four months, I decide to cut you from my life (in fact, I wasn't sure who it was at first because the text wasn't from one of my contacts, then I recognized the area code), and you have the nerve to text me NOW? I curtly responded to him: "Ha, that was fast." D proceeded to ask me a couple of pleasantries, I replied with the same degree of terseness, and that was it.
Well, dumbass me, I didn't delete the thread from my phone. Flash forward to Saturday night/Sunday morning. I got on the subway and realized that this was the stop where I ended my first "date" with him awhile back. I stewed about it, and my stupid tired buzzed brain says, "Hey, we can't lose now. Let's text D back and tell him how you really feel!"
Oh yeah. I *am* that stupid.
Actually, it wasn't too bad. I basically texted him one line, saying "Normally I'd never do this, but it's 2 AM, I'm a little drunk, and I'm mad at you." I also referenced the subway stop, but let's face it: he's a dude and never remember something like that.
I'm guessing he was an insomniac or hanging out in another time zone (aka with Jailbait), because he texted back, "Good -- you need to kick back once in awhile. I'm sorry. Be careful."
Me: "Really?? I am, always. I think."
Actually, sober me begs to differ on the last part (about being careful). Drunk texting someone you've been doing so well at getting over is not in the recovery plan! Arrrgh!
Fortunately, he didn't text back after that, and I deleted the thread, so his number is no more. But I'm still kicking myself just a little bit for breaking my resolve to stop talking to him. And I won't stop being angry with him until he grows the eff up and stops behaving like an irresponsible man child, squandering his life away. In the meantime, he's abandoned the website I poured so many hours into and broken a thousand promises along the way. I highly doubt that's going to change anytime soon.
On the bright side, my friend set me up with one of her friends, who's a lawyer. If he's taller than me, we're already off to a good start.
Post title song reference: "I Think I'm Paranoid" - Garbage
I went to Mexico last week for vacation, and it was wonnnnnderful. It was nice to leave the 40 degree freezingness and experience warm sunshine for a good five days. The only thing that would have made it perfect is less wind and higher temperatures, but I can't complain.
When I landed in the States on Wednesday, I eagerly turned on my phone to see if I had any texts or voicemails waiting. Turns out NO ONE attempted to contact me. I only told a few people about my trip, but at the same time, it would have been nice to have someone miss me! Feeling cranky, I posted the depressing experience to Twitter. To my surprise, D texts me: "Welcome back to the U.S., Lis!"
What. The. Fuck.
You ignore me for approximately four months, I decide to cut you from my life (in fact, I wasn't sure who it was at first because the text wasn't from one of my contacts, then I recognized the area code), and you have the nerve to text me NOW? I curtly responded to him: "Ha, that was fast." D proceeded to ask me a couple of pleasantries, I replied with the same degree of terseness, and that was it.
Well, dumbass me, I didn't delete the thread from my phone. Flash forward to Saturday night/Sunday morning. I got on the subway and realized that this was the stop where I ended my first "date" with him awhile back. I stewed about it, and my stupid tired buzzed brain says, "Hey, we can't lose now. Let's text D back and tell him how you really feel!"
Oh yeah. I *am* that stupid.
Actually, it wasn't too bad. I basically texted him one line, saying "Normally I'd never do this, but it's 2 AM, I'm a little drunk, and I'm mad at you." I also referenced the subway stop, but let's face it: he's a dude and never remember something like that.
I'm guessing he was an insomniac or hanging out in another time zone (aka with Jailbait), because he texted back, "Good -- you need to kick back once in awhile. I'm sorry. Be careful."
Me: "Really?? I am, always. I think."
Actually, sober me begs to differ on the last part (about being careful). Drunk texting someone you've been doing so well at getting over is not in the recovery plan! Arrrgh!
Fortunately, he didn't text back after that, and I deleted the thread, so his number is no more. But I'm still kicking myself just a little bit for breaking my resolve to stop talking to him. And I won't stop being angry with him until he grows the eff up and stops behaving like an irresponsible man child, squandering his life away. In the meantime, he's abandoned the website I poured so many hours into and broken a thousand promises along the way. I highly doubt that's going to change anytime soon.
On the bright side, my friend set me up with one of her friends, who's a lawyer. If he's taller than me, we're already off to a good start.
Post title song reference: "I Think I'm Paranoid" - Garbage
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