Realization.

I have come to realize that:

- Men are shallow, terrible creatures.
- I can’t be friends with them. 
- They piss me off. All of them.
- I can’t have friendships with men like I have with women because they fucking suck and are incapable of having deep, meaningful connections.**
- Everything they say is wrong, stupid, or both.
- You can only count on them to let you down.
- They make you feel like an idiot for having feelings.
- They are really only good for one thing. And most of the time that isn’t even worth it. I can stay home with my hot pink vibrator and not have to worry about some dude getting jizz on my sheets. Or having to fake an orgasm.

So now that I’m utterly exhausted from hating so much, I’m going to pull up my Hulu queue and hope to God that last week’s episode of The Office is funny as shit. Then I’m passing out. Maybe a solid eight will de-funk me and I’ll be better in the morning.

I pray this is the case. I don’t like being this way, but recent events [one right after another right after another] have left me no room for not going insane.

FUCK DUDES.

**This applies to all men, except maybe you, Justin. But we both know you’re much more like a woman than a man. And I mean that as a compliment. You’re also like a brother to me, and family gets exemptions.

The Houdini Effect

Fuck fuck shit piss motherfucker twat cunt FUCK.

OK, now that I got that out of the way…

As may be apparent, I am kind of pissed. It seems the Welshman has disappeared without a trace. This is just one of the many, many, *sigh* many guys who’ve done this to me – just another in a seemingly endless line of guys who walk around like they’re nice and make girls [read: me] think they’re charming and great, but they’re just masquerading douchebags.

The scenario: there’s a date [or three in this instance] that are very fun and wonderful. Then there are plans for another two dates. He tells me how much fun he has with me. I think maybe he likes me. I send a text the day after our third date – no response. I send another text the day after that – response, then nothing to a follow-up question. Days pass.The previous three dates he had texted to see if we were still on, but this time – nothing. The day of the planned date comes and goes.  Now it seems he is just another foot note in a chapter of my dating life: The Houdini Effect. Now you see him…now you don’t.

And the whole time I’m racking my brain trying to figure out what I did, or what I didn’t do, or what I said, or what I didn’t say.  Conclusion: I did nothing wrong. At least, that is my conclusion for now.

Next thing, I’ll be getting a text from him in two or three months just like all the others do. “Oh hey, how you been?” he’ll say. How have I been?! If you really cared, you would have asked, oh, three months ago…when you had a chance. GO FUCK YOURSELF. Ah well, I have his first season of The Office [British version]. Guess that’s my consolation prize.

Still need the subtitles to understand what the fuck they’re saying. Fucking Brits.

Other news:
- Still stressing about school. But I’m obviously procrastinating and thus causing my own problems.
- Finally got my check from work. My friend told me that it was in the office. Will pick it up tomorrow. Yay!
- My cat still has dandruff, so I put some bacon fat on her food. Maybe that will help.
- I had sex with my downstairs neighbor. This is a whole story in and of itself that I just don’t have time to address at the moment. He’s moving in a week. To Arizona. I was hoping for a repeat performance, but he is also currently blowing me off. Fuck.
- I’m putting $5 on the Welshman texting me sometime around July 4th. Any other bets?

**UPDATE: Just got a text from the neighbor. There could be a possibility for some more sexytime later this week. My vagina can’t wait.

On This Side Of The Wall

The wall is still very much in progress. Thanks for asking.

So I’ll give a brief news update of what’s going on on this side of the wall [copying the news headline format frequently used by my friend C]:

• Human male stupidity/douchebaggery has caused me to cease dating altogether. I have even married myself. Sort of. I wear a band of Italian silver, purchased, I believe, when I was 16 and visiting Italy for the first time. I found it in my jewelry box, and since it is much less ostentatious than my huge 4-carat aquamarine birthstone ring I was wearing, decided to put it on and not take it off for a while. It is a constant reminder of my commitment to myself, and warning not to get suckered into falling for bullshit again. As dorky as that seems. But who the fuck are you to judge? Hmm?? Yeah, that’s what I thought.
• The weekend in Vermont with The Wife [AKA my very best good friend Sarah, with whom I spend many nights at bars, drinking, and getting hit on by old, divorcing men]. Though the trees were a little past peak, it was absolutely gorgeous, and she and I made plans to host a ski party weekend sometime in January. Ideally, it would be Sarah, me, and eight to ten extremely hot guys, of whom we could have our pick. I, of course, would have at least three. At once. This weekend, her grandparents were there, and so was my mom. So it was a nice, family fun weekend. However, January, I’m hoping, will be nothing short of a drunken debacle of orgy proportions. With no grandparents. Though Sarah’s grandma is a little saucy…I think she might dig it.
• I’m training for a 5K — the Jolly Jaunt to benefit the Special Olympics. The race is December 6. It’s given me a renewed appreciation for treadmills, knee braces and my sadly underused Nikes. I ran 1.25 miles today. Last week I only ran 1 mile. So already an improvement! My friend C from school and I are training together. We leg-pressed, calf-raised, crunched, hip-adducted and abducted ourselves silly this afternoon. And it felt great. My training regiment says to take tomorrow off, or just walk or cross-train. Maybe I’ll go for a bike ride after school. Or maybe I’ll pop some Tylenol and beg my roommate for a back massage. A swim would be nice, but I am not getting my jiggly, white ass into a bathing suit any time soon.
• This Boston weather has necessitated the busting out of my fantastic space heater, and my electric blanket. I am so looking forward to a toasty warm bed tonight. Yep. Just me and the cat. All alone. No, no, I’m fine about it, really! It’s great. More room to…you know…lie there. Allll those covers to myself…yeah.
• PS–I’m so not bitter about it all. I might look bitter, but it’s just the words that are appearing that way. I’m good. I’m great, even. So there.
• Thinking about all this dating bullshit, I recently realized that I am unsure if anyone can love me as much as I love myself. I am fucking awesome and I know it, and anyone who disagrees is not someone I need to spend too much time with. Coincidentally, a parting jab at my ex in the form of a MySpace/Facebook blog was this final line: “I hope someday you can find someone who loves you as much as you love you.” Seems strangely reminiscent of what I’ve been thinking lately about myself…
• Either way, I’m still a fucking catch. Once you look past the bits of neuroticism and ignore the self-confidence that borders on self-centeredness…
• My cat has been really precious all day. She’s curled up right beside me right now, and has followed me all over the house. It’s a nice change from her usual sassy demeanor of biting me.
• Oh God…now I’m turning into a crazy cat lady. Well, maybe I’ll be fine as long as I don’t start knitting sweaters with embroidered cats and shit.
• Note to self: cancel tomorrow’s cat-embroidered sweater knitting lesson.
• Oh, I almost forgot [and this is probably the best news as of late]: I’m going to the World Series this weekend. Eat your heart out, baseball fans. Sox or no Sox [and unfortunately, in this case, it's the latter], I’m going to see two of the big games — Phillies vs. Tampa Bay Fucking Rays. GO PHILLIES!! Send that shitty expansion team back to where they belong. Although I can’t hate too much — Tampa Bay does farm from the good ol’ Durham Bulls, the Triple-A team from my hometown. Sad the Sox didn’t make it, but if they always won, it wouldn’t be fun anymore, right? Right?? Sigh.
• And…that’s all I got.

The Wall

Famous Walls in History [as adapted from Wikipedia's list]:

The Great Wall of China [the longest man-made structure]
Jericho Walls
Hadrian’s Wall
Western Wall in Jerusalem [Wailing Wall]
Berlin Wall
The Green Monster at Fenway Park [the best wall EVER]
The Wall, the album by Pink Floyd

I’m taking a cue from these landmarks, loading up a dump truck full of bricks and mortar, and will be spending an as of yet undetermined time period seriously under construction…