Two or three months later.

I started this a while back – it’s about damn time to finish and post it already. Let’s go.

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It has happened…five times, I think.

I dated a lot last summer. And into the fall some, too. But nothing stuck into the winter…except all this snow and ice that currently has my car baracaded into my street parking spot here in Boston.

It’s the typical situation: girl meets boy. Boy somehow convinces girl that he is not a douchebag. Girl is skeptical, but believes him. Girl and boy hang out and have a good time. Boy then either douches out, disappears – or, more typically, both.

Then, two or three months later, the boy will text girl. He will say, “Hey, haven’t heard from you in a while, what’s going on?”

Girl is always:
1) Shocked
2) Irritated a bit, at the lengthy delay in attempts at contact
3) Curious…at why now, two or three months later, is this boy texting?

[PS--In case you're lost already...the "girl" is me.]

The first time this happened was with R, a guy I dated a few months just after the Ex and I broke up. We met opening day at Fenway [for those who aren't in the know, that's early April]. He was really cool, we went out several times over about two months, but one day he just didn’t return my text and I never heard from him again.

Until about two or three months later.

I had just gotten home from a date with the guy who  asked me out through my blog [yeah, note to self: don't do that again]. Then I got the text from a number I had deleted [because if you ignore me, you're going to get deleted]. We texted a little bit that night, and he expressed interest in “going bowling and making out” again sometime. I blew it off, having just come back from a really great first date with another guy who would ultimately only make it to be a tiny footnote in my life, a mere mention in order to fully mention another, more important story.

Then in November, I got a text from a guy I slept with over the summer [I have written about this story before - the hot bartender]. Very strange text exchange. He also texted me a “Happy Thanksgiving.” Still no response on my end. 

In early December, I got a text from a guy D who I met at a Sox game in September. He and his roommate took me out to lunch, and tried to persuade me [jokingly?] to have a threesome with them. I hadn’t heard from D in…two or three months. He was just “checking in.”

A few weeks after that, I got a text from a guy I dated in October. It had been about two months since I had heard from him. We ended up texting for a few weeks, and even went out [and hooked up], but then things faded out again.

If this pattern sticks, I’m thinking he will text me around opening day – April 6th. That will make it…about two or three months.

I really don’t get it. Why, if I obviously wasn’t interesting enough two or three months ago, am I suddenly worth checking in on? 

I’m so over it all.

Fuck Rhode Island.

You know, I’m a fairly easy-going girl. I like most things, and will at least try to like most things. But when I hate something, I hate with the fire of a thousand suns.

And I hate Rhode Island.

Basically, every aspect of Rhode Island, and everyone who lives in it, sucks. I regret that I feel this way, since my state shares a border with crummy RI, and I must traverse this tiny, insignificant state whenever I go visit my Mom. I had to drive through it today on my way to Washington, DC for July 4th. Every minute was horrible. HORRIBLE!

Perhaps I should pinpoint the reasons why I hate Rhode Island so much:

1) I left Massachusetts today and as I crossed the border into Rhode Island, it started pouring rain. And not just regular “pouring rain,” it was dumping buckets so hard I couldn’t see in front of me. So there I was, travelling down I-95, the odometer barely creeping up to 30 mph, hazards blinking, straining to see the road signs, yelling “HOLY FUCK” at constant intervals. This went on for half an hour. Needless to say, it wasn’t pretty. FUCK RHODE ISLAND and its crappy weather.

2) Rhode Islanders drive like douchebags. Now, if any of you aren’t from the Northeast, you probably think we’re alldouchebags when we’re behind the wheel of a car. Not true. A “Masshole” is very different from a stupid Rhode Islander. A Masshole thinks his agenda is the most important agenda of everyone on the highway, and will make you feel like an idiot for delaying his arrival to meet his friend at Dunkin’ Donuts, or wherever the fuck he’s going, by speeding past you and maybe cutting you off. A stupid Rhode Islander simply can’t drive — first they tailgate endlessly, then operate their vehicles like they’re having epileptic seizures, and scare the shit out of you. Why, Rhode Islanders? Why can’t you just back the fuck off and chill the fuck out? Because you suck. So FUCK RHODE ISLAND and its crappy drivers.

3) I needed to take a bathroom break, and I was right near Warwick, RI. Not thinking anything of it, I exited the highway and found the nearest fast food joint, used the facilities, and expected to jump right back on the highway. Nope. Wouldn’t you expect the southbound entrance to I-95 to be near where you got off the highway originally? I sure would. But apparently no one in the great state of Rhode Island got that memo. They make you drive all through their crappy town, get stuck at stoplights, and tailgated by their stupid residents, and twenty minutes later you finally stumble upon the highway, miles and miles away from where you got off. Why?? It makes absolutely no sense to me. So FUCK RHODE ISLAND and its illogical highway construction.

Hmm, I’m on a roll here! Well, I am done with reasons why I hate Rhode Island for now, but there are other things I hate:

1) I hate people who go the speed limit in the passing lane [also called the fast lane, or left lane]. It’s called the “passing” lane for a reason — you should be passing the cars to the right of you, not the other way around. Assholes.

2) I hate people who brake on the highway. If you have to brake because the person in front of you slowed down, that means you’re too close. Back the fuck off. Douchebags.

3) I hate New Jersey. Actually, for many of the same reasons I hate Rhode Island. The one redeeming factor is the Jersey Turnpike — like a not-quite-drunk-enough guy screwing an ugly chick, I can get in and out fast.

4) I hate clowns. They creep the shit out of me.

All this hating has made me tired. [Yawn] Good night!