The End of An Era. The Beginning of Another.

The truth is I don't really know what happened.  What's happened.  What's happening.  But it's not fun like it used to be.  There was a time that dating felt like an adventure and boys felt like prizes.  But now.  They feel like punishments.  They feel like anger.  And frustration.  They feel like sharp objects.  Digging into me.  Dividing me.  Tearing away at all the good bits I've built up.  Every disappointment (and they seem to be endless) feels like claws tearing at the cotton candy I had so happily swaddled myself in.  They feel like a waste of time.  And I can't bear to be in this place.  To live in a place where I despise an entire gender.  (Okay well not everyone in the gender).  But seriously.  Rage.  Tears.  Rage.  Tears.  Hope.  Disappointment.  Rage.  Tears.  Rage.  Tears.

And I need a change.  Now before you all get concerned I've gone off the deep end or something I assure you I haven't.  The truth is I expect that a great deal of additional pressure is placed upon the disappointments of boys....by the fact that not only am I pissed with the disappointment...but there's self-focused anger.  I should've been studying.  I should've been working.  I should've been exercising.  I should've been writing a book.  I shoulda shoulda shoulda been doing anything other than wasting time on boys.  So never fear.  I won't be spending all my future time moping around doing nothing.  I'll be reading those books.  Yeah those ones in the picture.  Up There.   Yes all of them.  Yes right away.  Yes studying for the GRE and the GRE subject test.  Yes getting a summer job.  Yes working my ass off and losing even more Biggest Loser weight.  Yes getting into Grad School.

And YES writing a book.  It might not happen right now.  Right away.  But I'm young.  And I have a lifetime of writing ahead of me.  And when I do.  Of course I'll alert you all immediately, if not sooner.  And maybe one day I'll even come back here.  To this blog.  To this blog that I love.  With all my heart.  My heart that will eventually bounce back to its cotton-candy-boy-lovin'-happiness.  I'm certain of it.  But for now.  For this   breath.  For.  This.  Very.  Moment.  I have to call it a day.  I have to walk away.  I have to let it be.  Until I become that girl again.  The one with a love of boys.  The one that wrote posts like these...and meant it.

Boys of Summer

I'm Retarded for You

The Light Bulb and the Sports car

Army Fun or Being All the Single I Can Be

And for those looking for a bit of a saucier-racier-more-grown-uppy-more-swoony-more-SLUTmazing send off.  Here are a few choice posts.  

Tuesday.  Hot.  Sticky.  Delicious.

A Christmas Miracle:  TheNickName Gets a Second Date

Nothing Like Work.

Butterflies Fulfilled:  Warning 18+ [X-rated]

And finally.  A few bits of housekeeping.  For now. I'm going to keep my Twitter:  SSDated.  I may continue to be as active as ever.  I may not.  Of that I'm not sure.  Also.  A little while ago I wanted to do some writing.  About Twitter.  About life.  About whatever.  So I created another blog.  And you may see some writing on there from time to time. 

Something She Tweeted

So until we see each other again.  I want you all to know how much I've loved your presence...reading your comments...heeding or counter-arguing your advice...always eager for your presence again.  I am forever in your debt.  Always Love.  Always Yours.  For This.  Very.  Moment.  And all that come after it.  It's been a slice.  Deuces.

SomeMaybe: HAZmisappointment?

3:30pm.  Monday afternoon.  I was about to start getting ready for my date with HAZmazing.  Yes that seems an excessive amount of time to get ready for a date.  But I have this condition.  Where I dawdle.  I'm a dawdler. Dawdle.  Dawdle.  Dawdle.  Word has lost all meaning.  Anyway.  Time can really get away from me.  And since this was a date.  THAT I WAS ACTUALLY EXCITED TO GO ON.  And not dreading like so many other first dates I had been on (that albeit turned out successfully).  I allowed myself a ton of extra time.  Even if it meant I'd be sitting around hair and makeup all done for an hour before the date.  Didn't care.  I know boys hate to wait.  So I wasn't going to make that kind of first impression.

And then it appeared.  A text from HAZmazing.  Well, it said I gotta cancel.  I'm at a warehouse spill in Coquitlam.  Guess we'll have to wait till the weekend to meet, hope that's okay, sorry.  Have I ever told you guys how well I deal with disappointment?  No?  That's because I fucking don't.  On the one hand, the cynic in me automatically assumes that there's no spill and this has all been an elaborate exercise in futility and retardation.  The other hand is open to the minute possibility (she's still influenced by the cynical side) that he's telling the truth, shit happens, and obvs we'll still proceed like normal from here on out.

I'm super disappointed.  I'm super deflated.  And an hour later.  When I've calmed down enough to text back something other than FUCK YOU! (which would be so wildly inappropriate and out-of-proportion) I text him back.  No worries I say Hope everyone/thing is okay.  And that's it.  Nonchalant Nancy at her finest.  If the excuse is bullshit I assume I'll never hear from him again.  But what of that pesky situation of us being all facebook friends and shit?  Ugh.  If the excuse is real and it really was a real emergency that he really had to go to.  Really?  really!  Then I assume he'll text or call when it's over and settled.  Sending waves of apologies and confirmations that he does in fact want to hang out.  Hours later I'm tempted to text Just to see how things went.  But I don't.  Because while I was all excited and ready to jump in expectations first before.  I'm now removed.  Aloof.  Tin Man.  Or at the very least full of #ExerRage.

The hours tick away.  The night rolls past.  Tuesday morning peaks her pretty head into my window.  The day is slow and angry.  The day is disappointed.  The day tastes like dating bitters.  This is why I wish I still drank.  The Canucks play San Jose at 6:00pm.  Kesler scores with 13.2 seconds left on the clock sending the teams into OT.  HAZmazing posts something about this on his facebook.  In a rush of adrenaline I click "like".  I am immediately mortified.  I am pathetic.  Disgraceful.  I am angry at myself.  Do.  Not.  Fucking.  Reach.  Out.  I may be over-reacting but honestly I a. have issues with needing to be the "cooler" one and b. am just tired of being let down by losers who don't like me (the loserishness is inherent in the not liking me in case you were curious).

The night rolls past with no contact from him.  I'm certain.  He doth not liketh me.  Or is retarded.  Either way.  Not so good.  Because though he doesn't have time to contact me clearly.  He has time to check his POF.  I delete the text convo.  I delete his phone number (don't need any temptations).  I decide not to delete his facebook yet for fear of looking hysterical.  One Week says a friend.  *high five* and it's settled.  And then it's wednesday.  And I'm on my way to the Canucks Outlet store to check out their jerseys.  Sidenote:  I was planning to get a jersey that said "SSDated" as the name and my phone number as the number.  Apparently they have regulations about what you can get on an official jersey.  Also, the jersey, with customization would basically cost the same as a trip to Vegas.  So I facebook about the dilemma.  How badly do I want this jersey?  I ask.  And there it is.  Amidst the adament Badly!s and full on support for getting the jersey.  Is a comment.  From him.  As long as it's 3 it says.  And then not much later.  I get a text.  Asking.  Did you get number 3?


It's Thursday night as I write this.  And I haven't responded to his text.  Or directly to his FB posting.  The truth is.  And I may be deluded in thinking this.  Male or female.  Friends or dating.  When you bail on someone.  It is the bailer's job to make sure the bailee doesn't feel jilted.  Assuming of course they give a shit. Now sure enough I'm well aware this dude owes me nothing.  WE'VE NEVER EVEN MET FOR FUCK'S SAKE!!  But that's also the point.  WE'VE NEVER FUCKING MET so I also owe him nothing.  And not checking in.  Not making sure he didn't totally fuck up my schedule.  Or checking in to see if I'd be free for the weekend...in a timely manner...you know...like before the fucking weekend arrives.  Well, that's just retarded.


On the one hand most people seem to be indicating that if a boy likes you he'll put in the effort.  He'll contact again.  He'll call.  He'll text.  He'll make his argument somehow.  HotAndDumb certainly has.  *more on his persistence in another post*.  This is the camp that would suggest I not respond to his text.  You deserve more.  In the delightful words of Miss Ho Ken.  You have to earn this.  And it makes sense.  Mostly.  It's what boys on Twitter seemed to think I should do.

BUT.  And here's the thing of the thing.  If someone doesn't respond to me.  I'm not contacting them again.  Because they obviously don't want to have contact with me.  Case close.  *Pathetic chick face* avoided.  And I know that everybody's all like boys are different and boys like to chase and all that it's in their DNA shit.  But here's the really deep thing of the thing.  The thing that I feel strongly about.  To me.  Well.  That's just fucking retarded.  So where am I left.  Ignoring a boy who may or may not care?  Hoping for contact from a species of retards?  Fuck me.  Asexuality it is then?


So what do you think?  Should I be responding...er...over 24 hours later?  Is the whole cancelling and not checking in just him being a dude...busy with work and life and I'm expecting too much with wanting more effort.  Or am I right and he's not interested (for whatever reason).  Am I (and my advice givers) being hysterical or HardToGet.  My gut is suggesting I wait until the weekend and he'll either contact or not contact but I'll know either way and move past it (and then delete him on Wednesday).  PSizzle...in his defense...not that I should be defending him.  Though he has checked his POF at least once since cancelling (you can only see the date not how many times FYI)...since supposedly flying up to Prince George he hasn't checked it once.  So yeah.  There's that.  My concern with this is what if his contact is something lame like How are you doing?  and not the leap right to I really would like to hang out with you can we make some plans.  What if he only texts instead of calls?  What do I respond or not respond to?  Also, though I'm mega interested in your advice...if you haven't read the original two posts Here and Here I'd prefer it if you didn't give your 2 cents because the only thing worse than bad advice is uninformed advice.  Oh...And apparently I'm the Simon Cowell of Dating.  Best.  Comment.  Ever.  Also if you're a dude and want to weigh in on the whole...how much unheeded effort do you put in before callin' 'er quits on a girl you dig...click here to go to my new page...for polls and surveys...basically all things related to Dating Research.  The Research Lab.

SSDated Something She Dated 

@ 

@Starita34 But are they though. Was he really funny? Or was I just pathetic and easily impressed? #ImSuchAHardass #TinMan

25 May Favorite Reply Delete

in reply to @SSDated ↑

@Starita34Star

@SSDated Easily impressed!?! You?! You're the Simon Cowell of dating!! LOL

SomeMaybe: He Haz Potential (Part Two)

So he went to Cancun.  And I stayed here.  With just enough boredom to keep me *browsing* his Facebook and reviewing our text conversations.  But not so much boredom that *browsing* becomes stalking and reviewing becomes obsessing.  And I know what you're thinking...uh...what's the difference.  And the answer is whether you do it in a positive or negative light.  And my sunshine was sunshiney.  Mostly I was just checking dude out.  And trying to confirm whether or not he was A. funny like my head was telling me he was and B. that our conversations were adorable like my head was telling me they were.

Attesting to humor is kind of hard.  That's what she said.  No, seriously.  Because here's the thing.  Sometimes I have quirky funny conversations.  With IRL people.  With Twitter people.  And they're hilarious because it's the two of us being bizarrely weird.  Which is awesome.  But when you're talking to someone you might go on a first date with.  You don't necessarily say all of that.  So after reviewing the tapes I can't really confirm that he's hilarious.  But I do know this.  We had text conversations.  We had an hour long phone conversation (on my cell phone...so you know that means I was interested...using up my minutes!).  And I laughed.  So whether he's funny.  Or we're funny together.  Or he just puts me in a good mood and the laughter follows suit.  Things were looking good.

As for whether or not our conversations were adorable.  I'd say they were.  Rereading back I scan past several times when I said something funny (and that he agreed with) that caused him to respond with things like...alert your friends...we're definitely getting married (don't freak out, he was just saying it for effect).  So things were definitely cute and cuddly.  He seemed certain that we would get along just fine and have tons to talk about on our date.

So the irony is that before he went to Cancun, he seemed the one much more upset we had to wait to meet.  I was like a week...pshhtt...that's nothing.  Until Monday night rolled around and I realized it'd only been 2 nights.  Fuck me.  This was going to be a long week.  And so I did what any self-respecting girl would day.  Ate like a bird and worked me ass off at the gym.  When life gives you a week...you put that week on a diet...or something like that.

But I will admit.  I was excited.  About a boy.  Like really fucking excited.  Like thank goodness they're not all super retarded.  Like I wasn't sure if I'd ever find a boy even close to worth swooning over.  But I was also rational.  You don't fucking know him at all.  Settle the fuck down.  Chill the fuck out.  And for fuck's sake stop telling people about him.  Okay that last one was a little hard.  I vaguely recall telling a few people at a Hockey watching soiree his hilariously adorable nickname...HAZmazing.

I mean he works for Haz Mat.  I thought he'd be amazing.  HAZmazing.  This shit just writes itself, no?  But then someone asked.  What if he isn't...amazing?  To which I responded HAZmisappointment?  *insert rolling on the floor kind of laughter*.  But seriously, what if he turns out to be retarded like all the rest?  And again.  This shit just fucking writes itself.  HAZard.  Double meaning built in.  *Throws up hands and walks off stage it'll never get better than this!*

And that was Friday night.  I only had to wait one more day for him to get back from vacation.  And though there was a twinge of disappointment that he hadn't contacted me say by Thursday or something to firm up plans for the weekend and our first meet, I totally understood.  And I couldn't really be a hypocrite could I?  Because the thing of the thing is this.  I'm just under 4 weeks I'm going to the Bahamas for a wedding (SO EXCITED!!! which you may already know if you follow me on Twitter).  And even if on some ridiculous spin of events HAZmazing and I were dating vigorously (I can't bring myself to call dating serious with a time elapse of less than a month...even in the hypothetical form).  I wouldn't be contacting him from BTown.  Seriously, yo!  I'm going for 6 nights.  And I plan to spend them enjoying all that family and fabulousness have to offer.  I will NOT be worried about what's going on back home.  Deuces! I'll call ya in a week...or something like that.  So I can't really fault a dude for not contacting from Mexico to make a date with a chick he's never even met.

Saturday rolled around.  He was supposed to get back at 8.  10:30 rolls around and dude texts me.  SCORE!  He asks my schedule.  It's mostly open except for Wednesday night.  He's flying to Prince George Tuesday and getting back Thursday? Friday???  At the time I don't ask why he doesn't know when he's getting back or why he's going up to PG.  I'll either ask on the date or not my biz ya know.  So that leaves Sunday or Monday I say.  Monday night he says Done!  Firm up details Monday morning?  And I respond Sounds great.  Because it did.  I was so excited!

But here's the thing.  We were only in contact for 3 maybe 4 days before he left.  But those days were FILLED with texting...seriously, Filled.  But after he got our only 2 text convos have been about date planning.  No real conversation.  No voice conversation.  Just...details.  And the thing is.  I assumed he'd text Monday morning.  But 11:45am rolled around and no text had come to firm up details.  Now I know there's all those rules about always letting them contact you and stuff.  But A.  I wasn't going to waste my day thinking I'd have a date only to never hear from him.  Rather get it sorted right away.  Or B.  So far he'd ALWAYS been the contact-initiator so I figured one time...no biggie.

My apprehensions were relieved when he replied almost immediately.  Clearly he was interested.  Right?!?!  He suggested coffee or he could cook us dinner (mmm steak).  So funny how boys really don't get what it is to be a lady and having to be careful...you don't...ya know...get murdered.  But even more than that...why aren't they worried I could be such a complete and totally horrible dud and then I would be in their apartment and Man Alive that would be fucking awkward.  But I digress.  Picked a coffee shop.  Halfway between us.  7:30pm.  See ya then :)

SomeMaybe: He Haz Potential (Part One)

HAZmazing

The Stats: 6'1 -- 37 -- Haz Mat

The Story:  Awhile back I turned off my POF notifications.  I had the less than amazing App on my phone and frankly I didn't need all the emails telling me LoserAged65 and RetardedClinicallyDiagnosed were messaging me and saving me as their favorites.  But then it came.  My ladytime blogistential crisis.  And I was flailing.  I wasn't really considering closing my POF profile or anything but still.  I was.  urgh.  uh.  grrrr.  Not impressed with what was on the table for dinner.  So I figured I'd do a little perusing.  And the first place I looked was the "boys that have saved you as a favorite" list.  Because after all nothing bolsters a lady like a bunch of boys who wack off to her at night but never speak to her think she's pretty.  And there he was.  Hidden amongst the column of duds.  A possibility.  A chance.  A "SomeMaybe".

There he was.  Big like a hot sexy bear.  And his tagline was about laughter (so is mine).  And his profile seemed to stress humor.  Dry sarcastic humor.  My kind of humor.  But what would I write to him?  I didn't want it to just be...saw you saved me as a favorite so I needed something to say.  And then it came to me.  From his profile.  The one that said he was looking for someone Open to adventure and any Top Secret Missions.  And I'm nothing if not a gal prepared for a Top Secret Mission.  Top Secret being my favorite of all kinds of missions.  I said.  So at the very least we have that.

He messaged back.  I messaged forth.  He ebbed and I flowed.  Asked for digits.  Took it to the phones.  Texted up a storm.  Adorable.  Little bit cheeky.  Funny.  Banter.  And one of the highlights.  Our humor?  Very much the same.  So far.  I have been wrong before after all.  And then he told me he would call.  And he did.  And it was all pretty fucking flawless.  Except.  except.  e.x.c.e.p.t.....

He was leaving for Cancun in 2 days.  And I was busy for those 2 days.  And I know what you're thinking.  He's only going for a week.  But a week?  In online dating?  Is kind of like forever.  And you know what makes it EVEN worse?  When he suggests that we Facebook each other.  Something I rarely do.  Something I NEVER do before I've even met someone.  But he charmed me right out of my pants my good senses.  And so I did it.

The Pros:  Takes a bit of the pressure off of whether or not he'll think I look like my pictures.  I always worry that my pics on POF look better than I do in real life (they're not photoshopped or anything...and some "Somethings" have commented I look even better...so clearly...I just have issues lol).  But on Facebook I have pictures without makeup, pictures in my weekday bra, pictures where I'm just having fun and laughing louder than you can imagine instead of busy trying to look hot and thin. Good pictures.  Real pictures.  Me pictures.  And, because on the phone, I had said I was chubby and he had said no, you're curvy and I was like no, I'm chubby *said with a giggle and a smile* I had some minor trepidation.  But after Facebook, he would have a rounder picture (pun intended).  The pros for me?  He feels less like a potential serial killer.  Especially when I click one of his friends and they have like 10 friends in common with me.  He has none in common with me but still.  Feels like a real person.  With a real life.  Who won't ya know.  Murder me.  Right away.

The Cons:  I can be a Tin Man.  A pillar of resignation and deprivation.  Basically I can easily not eat a donut.  Until you put one right in fucking front of me.  Even worse.  Telling me I can't throw the donut out and in a week (through miraculous science that keeps it fresh) I can eat the donut.  So I sit there.  All week.  Just staring at it.  Thinking about it.  Fantasizing how good it will taste.  The icing on my lips.  The jelly on my tongue.  How it will fill me up completely but never past full.  It will melt like better but be soft and doughy like fudge.  It'll be salty and sweet all rolled into one.  By the end of the week I'm mostly certain this donut will fucking complete me.  And so you can see.  Things can get out of hand.

The Standing:  I asked when he would be back from Cancun.  He said Saturday at 8pm.  He said he wanted to hang out right away.  Said we would talk later in the week.  And then he went to Cancun....

To Be Continued....  HERE

Ironically Idiotic: THAT'S Why You're On Plenty of Fish

His username?  Megamind.  Plus some numbers after it.  So don't worry I'm still not totally outing this guy.  Though I should.  I mean with stupidity like this.  Normally I don't even hint at a online name.  But this one?  Just too fucking ironic not to.

He messages.  nice set of tits.  wanna hook up.


Usually I just block.  But I was feeling.  Well.  Tauntilicious?  Engagamentary?  Responsamazing?  Something like that.  I respond.  You seem super smart.  I would definitely like to hook up with you.


He responds.  i sence some sarcasim, lol give me ur # and we will plane something.  His attempt at wit isn't completely lost on me.  But too little too late and the lack of sense to know that joking about a bomb in an airport is never a good idea is just the kind of thing that pushes me away from dudes like this.  Plus there's always the alternative.  He's actually this moronic and wasn't being funny but simply honest.

I wanted to respond with one of those rejection hotline numbers.  But alas I googled...I dialed...and it was always busy.  Not as funny.  So I simply told him.  Definitely....give me a call...day or night...I'm your gal...absolutely anytime...555-5555.


And perhaps I crushed his super-stout ego.  Perhaps his Mega mind just couldn't comprehend all the genius I had laid at his feet.  Either way.  That was the last I heard of the ironically idiotic MegaMindRandomDigits and his rapier wit.  That was until he messaged again a week later.  At which point I did block him.  Me and my tits are definitely missing out though I'm certain of it.

And That's Why You're On Plenty of Fish.  (though I'm always left wondering...what's my reason? best not think too deeply on that one ;)

I Eat Grapefruits To Save You: A Love Poem

I eat grapefruits to save you, late at night

Rabid, in the moment your words, hard and fast

Become a language, I no longer understand

Push it hard into me, force a peeling of my dream

That vision squeezed tight, in hands too rough to hold

My heart, a madlib, and you write anything, something

Anything, Just so you won’t miss this space, fill me up

With minutes, minute moments, the flutter of a lash

When I laughed and you didn’t.  I eat, eat, eat

Grapefruits, in the middle of the night, to save you

Pour my pain into pulp, rip you into sections,

Time you out into pieces, digestible moments

Bearable seconds, of all the days I hate you.

All the years, that I’ve hated you, so much

That I eat grapefruits, in the middle of the night,

Just to save you.

I plot plans, hatch seeds, grope and peel apart

My own skin, because I found it here, found me

Here, because I let it get to here. 

Sitting on the kitchen floor, juice runs away

From your chatter, putting me to sleep, by the way,

You just don’t get my jokes.

I stuff citrus down my throat so I won’t say the things,

That make me hate you, offer up the reasons why I despise,

You.

Eating grapefruits late at night like an arangautang

In the middle of the kitchen, the middle of the this life

The middle of however the fuck we got here.

I choke on a seed for a second like heaven,

Only I’m an atheist and this is bullshit.  I don’t even like

Grapefruit.  They’re bitter, the skin is too thick and

Peeling them makes my hands feel funny.

Last Thursday you came downstairs to look for me,

But instead of a shirt made see-through by sloppy juice

I ate the words I love you.  Swallowed hard and crawled

Across the paper.

Pick Up:  Milk, eggs, Grapefruit

SomeMaybe: The Case of the Missing Intellect

Hot and Dumb

The Stats: 5'11 -- 29 -- Contractor/Personal Trainer -- Name + Number username (lacks creativity or wit)

The Story:  Truth be told he messaged something about my boobs.  Which was lame.  But he was super hot.  Though what actually garnered my response was his profile.  He seemed upbeat and honest.  Said he liked to travel to Vegas (and Mexico) a couple times a year but didn't drink much.  He wasn't into using msn and didn't want a message buddy.  Seemed to be anti-ignorance and stupidity and basically seemed to understand the concept that relationships etc. should be 50/50, two equal partners.  It all sounded pretty good.  In theory.

The Pros:  I mentioned he was hot right?  And buff?  And though I can't actually confirm he seemed super manly...he works in construction and rides a Harley...so if stereotypes could talk.  Just Sayin'.  Plus he also seemed like he was pretty balls out to make things happen.  In under 8 messages he'd suggested we take things to the phones.  He was avid in the texting and then took it to the voices, he called.

The Cons:  As I try to recount these for you.  I know it is NOT a good sign that I'm embarassed to even mention some of them.  Because this dude is clearly not for me.  CLEARLY.  NOT.  FOR.  ME.  But he's hot.  And well.  People have done dumber things.  Maybe.

The Standing:  Tough to say.  I want to say hopeful optimism (you know how I hate to leave a party first) but I think it's more like reserved pessimism (I'm barely interested and just hoping someone better asks me out).  And if this blog were a wingwoman.  You might say I'm considering jumping on a grenade.  We'll see what the next few days/weeks hold.

The truth is.

The truth is.

The truth is.  He was hot and there was no one better.  And also because I cannot face it.  I cannot bring myself to believe.  That boys are as genuinely idiotic as they've been showing me lately.  It has to be laziness.  It has to be something overcomeable.  Something they can change.  If they wanted to.  And they will want to.  They have to.  The just have to.  And so I stand by.  Tagging along.  Stringing them along?  Until they overcome it.  And bring their best to me.  Because after all.  I deserve it.  No?

So that's why I took his number.  When he offered it.  In something like message 8.  Quick back and forths.  And I knew almost nothing about him.  But that was fine.  Because he was moving things forward.  And so in a break between classes.  I text.  I say hey it's SSD from POF blah blah blah.  He responds and spells my name wrong.  Then messages again to ask for a pic.  For his contacts.  I tell him it's not a good start if he can't remember who I am from my name alone.  He says I know silly and nevermind because he just wanted it for his iPhone.  Like that actually logically explains it.  I decide to let it slide for the moment.  I make some joke about maybe letting him take one some day.  Never going to happen.  And proceed to ask some banal (but required by social protocol) questions.  Travel? Favorite city? etc.?


75% of the time I ask a question he simply answers it.  And doesn't ask one back.  I get bored with this and stop responding.  He sort of picks up the slack.  I say sort of because well.  It's still barely.  And then after I ask a simple question he proceeds to offer this huge unasked for dating diatribe of sorts.  Random!  But so priceless I thought it could only be captured by photos.

As you can see.  I was at a loss for how to respond to the random information.  Which btw I later recognized from his profile.  Like he just reiterated it.  fucking random.  And well honestly I was bored of it.  Of him.  Of asking questions.  I gave him one last incredibly obvious chance.  Which he promptly blew.  And I became a liar for calling it the last chance.  His question?  Like I said send me a few pics.  Fuck.  Me.  Not only is this not a question.  But its repetitive.  Idiotic.  And really fucking irritating.  And so I respond.

Yeah okay.  I think we're looking for different things...All the best :)  But he doesn't just go off and have all the best.  He texts back.  Dif things?   next message.  Ok...well...guess you are I.  next message.  Looking for a booty call ??? I'm looking for a gf.  next message.  ???


And you have to wonder.  Is he intentionally baiting me?  Is he really just retarded?  So I spout some shit about how I'm looking to get to know someone and to be honest he doesn't seem that interested in actually getting to KNOW me and something about how asking for pics repeatedly when I have like 7 on my profile is a major turn off.And that's when he says the thing that will be a recurrent theme with us.  With him.  With his retardation.  And why I really don't have a good feeling about the two of us hanging out.

It was a JOKE.  next message.  I'm at work and hanging off a house...Chill out.  next message.  It's hard to txt.  And I know you're all thinking exactly what I'm thinking.  Oh No He Didn't! *appropriate hand snapping head twitching and face scrunching*  Did this dude just tell me to chill out?  Or more importantly use the guise of a joke for his stupidity???

@SSDated

Something She Dated

You can't just say...I was joking...after every stupid thing you say and have it be true. Being retarded is not the same as being a wizard.

1 May via web Unfavorite Reply Delete

I text back no worries but what I really mean is fuck whatever dude.  He messages again later that night.  It goes like this.  [blah blah blah idle boring chatter blah blah blah].  The next day it's the same.  Though I'm starting to notice this weird thing.  Sometimes he says stuff.  Completely out of the blue.  Like he's somehow answering questions I've never asked.  Like one day after he messaged greetings etcetera.  I messaged I'm good, How are you?  And his response was...er...a little off.  Not a big deal or anything but...off.  I'm in Richmond...it's sunny here.  I mean these finely worded answers except that they weren't my question.  We banter back and forth a bit (and I'm using banter here incredibly loosely) until he asks if I want to hang out.  I can't right now I say I'm studying and it's almost exam time.

And this is when I start to see the errors of my way getting back on Plenty of Fish before school is over.  In my defense I did it because boys usually take for-fucking-ever to get to the actual taking me out stage so I figured it would be timed quite right.  But I do feel bad for the guy because I too, hate, when someone seems hesitant/makes you wait to date them.  And so I tell him this.  And lay it all out.  Balls to the wall.  This is why I'm busy.  This is how long I'll be busy for.  I DO want to hang out.  I understand if he doesn't wait.

His response.  That's fat.  next message.  Far...What's the point really of being on a dating website if you can't date...just say you want an email buddy.  Moron.  I respond.  Because I don't want an email buddy...and I'll have all kinds of time to date...soon...but it's all good if that's a deal breaker for you I completely understand.


His response.  Soon?  You mean a month away!!  My response.  3 weeks.  But I hear what you're saying...it is what it is though so...  And then I heard nothing back.  No biggie.  I understood.  Back to studying.  Only the next day.  There he was again.  Texting.  How's school?


I'm going to stop here.  Well stop reiterating the basics of what happened.  Because its too fucking long and too fucking tedious.  This last message was on April 1st.  They continue up to now.  And yes obviously that means I engaged somewhat.  Though in my defense with incredibly minimal effort.  To sum up what goes down in these next weeks....

He says things like:  What dooin?  and Wanna hang out??(when I was emphatically clear about when I would be available)  and I was joking (in situations where there is no joke).  He also says random things like Riding my bike when no one asked and Sunny out when no one asked.  At one point we talked on the phone.  Spent most of the conversation trying to steer him away from racist chatter about driver's in Richmond and even after it was clear I was displeased with that kind of talk and even went through a lengthy discussion about how his argument was not logically sound...he didn't get the idea.

And now I know what you're thinking.  With all that fucking idiocy (and you should assume for time's sake I've left a ton of it out).  Even if he's super hot.  How on earth could I still be talking to him.  And I'll tell you.  I'll give you access to my Kryptonite.  Not that you don't already know.  And I know you're thinking.  But wait he's not even close to smart.  And you're right.  But there's potential.  Because at some point we were talking about academia.  And blah blah blah.  And guess what Mr. Hot and Dumb's dear old mommy does/did.  Professor of Engineering.  I'll let that sit with you for a minute.  So she's a woman.  With a PhD.  In Engineering.  I mean shit son.  It doesn't get much smarter than that.  And so I went along for the ride.  Until he revealed his inner smarty-pants.  Or at least until I could rationalize how this dumbapple could fall so far from the tree.

So exams came and went.  I moved out of my dorm apartment.  Summer had begun (in theory) though the weather had yet to reflect it.  And on the day I was going to text to tell him all this.  He texted me first.  Wanting to hang out.  But I couldn't this weekend...Easter weekend...Family dinner and plans and all that.  How about Monday night? I say.  His response.  Prob be raining -- I'm only on my bike now.  Ugh.  What a fucking tool.  Hmm does that mean you can only ever hang out when it's sunny/last minute kind of thing?  And you all know how much I fucking love spontaneity.  Well I won't wanna ride anywhere at night when it's pissing out.  And at first I'm a little bit like.  Well that does kind of make a bit of sense.  Except.  Wait.  He said he also had a truck.  So.  Bullshit.  True enough I say that makes sense.  And that's when he hits me with it.  The revelation that he's in fact a bitchy chick.

Well I've been free everyday.  next message.
All weekend.  next message.
And for the last few weeks -- you've never bothered

I say Never bothered??  I was studying for exams :( .  And I know I should stop.  Just delete.  But I'm all calm and breezy so I figure I'll just press on.  But now they're over and I can go back to being a normal person so if you do want to hang out sometime I'm sure we can figure something out.  There's no response.  No biggie.  Except 3 days later.  There he is again.  Texting me during Game 7.  Which he is surprisingly watching.  I ask where during commercials.  He says pub in New West.  He doesn't ask where I am.  I don't respond further.

The next day he texts.  How's your day?  I don't respond.  Figure that'll be the end of him.  I'm officially too bored to care.  Only.  Wait.  What.  3 days later there he is again.  What's up?  I give him short responses.  He gives answers to questions I haven't asked.  The convo ends with me responding a bored Awesome to his unasked for answer of so nice on my bike.  And then 3 days later.  (Does this dude have OCD? what's with every 3rd day)?

The convo started fine and boring.  Blah blah blah.  But then it happened.  One of the final straws (notice I say one lol).  He texts the day of Round 2 Game 2.  I tell him I'm watching the game.  He tries to guilt me into watching the fight instead...something about the fight only comes once a year...this is only game 2.  I mean shit son.  Is he fucking retarded!?!?!  Don't fuck with the Canucks dude.  Ever.  Fool.

The next day (May 1st) I get another text from him.  The ever-charming ever-priceless Hey what dooin.  I respond that I'm hanging out with friends.  Was thinking maybe we should make some plan to grab a coffee sometime :)  I'm heading to Seattle for a couple days but how about Thursday night?


His response.  How about now.  I mean fuck me.  You.  Are.  Retarded!!! (Both of us since I keep responding to this idiocy).  1.  That annoys the shit out of me.  If I wanted to hang out now I would've suggested it but 2.  I just said I'm with my friends.  Which is what I responded.  Sorry, like I said I'm hanging out with my friends...so thursday night?  At this point I was honestly hoping he'd say no.  And never text again.  But he didn't.  He said.  Sure.


I ask if any time or place is better for him.  He says don't matter.  Grammar aside.  It does fucking matter.  I don't know what time he gets off work.  If he'll want to shower first.  Where he's working at the moment.  If he even drinks coffee.  I hint at this by asking if he's working thursday?  He says course.   He obviously doesn't find the need for of.  But whatever.  And then he hits me with possibly the MOST retarded of all the texts thus far.

What you don't allow other people to meet your friends?

Not someone I've never met yet lol...why would I want to?  And then I get incredibly blunt.  I have to ask you something honestly...do you think there's an actual possibility that you and I will mesh well?  And his response I don't know till I meet you.  I don't accept this kind of logic.  Ok well I usually have a sense of whether or not there's a possibility of me getting along well with someone (it's how I decide who to respond to/message with and who not to)...and I have to be honest...with even text convo we have I become more hesitant to meet and think it less likely that we'd get along... And his response.  Which was actually really calm and breezy.  Ok well if you don't want to meet that's fine.  And the truth is I didn't.  So I didn't respond.  

And you'd think that was the end.  You'd think!  But nope.  3 days later.  There it was again.  Those words I love.  What dooin.  I respond hours later (I'm certainly not wasting roaming on him) I was in Seattle.  His response is I see.  I don't respond.  The next day he circles the wagons again.  What dooin.  I respond Out at friend's party...you?  He's in Bed.  Riveting.  Wild night huh ;).  No response.  And then.  You won't fucking believe.  To the very day.  Like clockwork.  Like OCD dating.  3 days later.  Only this time it's an improved Hey You.  I mean swoon right!?!  Hey I say How's it going?  Good hunie  Bleh.  Good to hear I say because after all he never asked me back.  And then he asks how POF is treating me.  I'm honest.  Kind of sucks right now.  He asks Right now? lol gone on many dates huh?

Sorry huh?  Are you saying you've gone on many dates or asking if I have.  He was asking if I have.  I tell him the edited truth.  No dates.  Boys are retarded.  Can't find any boys that I want to go out with.  Boys are lazy and I'm becoming a lesbian.  Boys haven't been stepping their game up.  Etc.  How's POF for you?  He responds that he's been busy and haven't gone on any dates lately.  I say Gotcha.  On the upside being busy is a better situation than just not being able to find someone you were excited to go out with...so that's good for you :)  He responds lol did I mention there's no one catching my attention.  Well wana meet up tomorrow.  And then I begin what I think will be the final diatribe but since it happened on the 9th of May and this being the 11th...there's always the possibility of a what dooin coming my way tomorrow.

Here's what I balls to the wall said.  Because when you're not really into someone.  You've got nothing to lose.  And honestly that tiny optimist inside of me (the one I ate not the one in my soul) keeps hoping he'll pull out of his Mighty Casey slump and hit one out of the park.

If it helps I begin I`m empathetic to how irritating it must be that I`m so hesitant to meet...but I`m not really sure anything has changed...I`ve kind of been hoping you`d say something that would change my mind...but aside from the fact that you thought my boobs were hot in that first message I`m not even sure there`s anything you like about me...And to be clear people I think I`m amazing...I`m just not sure this dude thinks that.  But let`s press on.  And yes I know we haven't met but even so...people have to base whether or not to meet someone on SOMETHING...ya know?


His eloquent charming response that totally convinced me that he is the Robin to my Batman?  I got yah...well up to you hun.  Uh.  Yeah.  I know dipshit.  But I'd already come this far.  I was going to poke this bear till he screamed or at the very least cried.  Well...I hate to be so blunt...but IS there any other reason than looks that you want to meet me?  And his response.  I mean they should put it in fucking Valentine's Day cards.  Hallmark it!

Yeah I'm curious to put a person to all this txtn!!!  It's getting old lol...what do we have to loose jeez.  Loose?  Jeez?  Fuck me.  Wow I say Nothing makes a chick swoon like...curiosity?  And he counters Hahaha well aren't you curious to meet me?  And for those of you watching my tweets at this moment.  You can see just what exactly I was thinking in response to that.

@SSDatedSomething She Dated

He said...well aren't you curious to meet me? How do I get out of this one gracefully...because no...not really.#SeaOfRetards

9 May via Twitter for iPhone Unfavorite Reply Delete

I tried to respond as close to the truth as possible without being a huge bitch.  I guess...but I'd bet you'd have the same curiosity for anyone you'd been texting...it's not ME specific.  His response.  You're a read self defeated huh...never heard if go with the flow.  Minus the grammatical flaws and typing errors I understood his message loud and clear.  He was fucking clueless.  And this is where we get to my final message.

lol see it's stuff like that that makes me hesitant to meet you...who tries to make the chick (they should be trying to impress) feel bad???  Not to mention go with the flow doesn't really apply here...if it did that same logic would have me dating every dude who messages on POF.  And his response.

Hahahaha ok I'm tired....Goodnight.  I imagine he is.  Trying to read that last message alone would likely have exerted the majority of his brain power.  And THAT my friend, is exhausting.  So after writing these last three "SomeMaybes" - Funny Today Gone Tomorrow & He Blinded Me With Engineering & this one.  I've come to a conclusion.  This batch of boys is bunk.  The truth is.  As much as I want to be a hopeful optimist.  To hope that some of these boys will pan out.  Sometimes I think you just have to start over.  From scratch.  New recipe.  New ingredients.  Because this batch.  Tasted a little burnt.  But at the very least.  The positive that comes from this never-ending blog post.  I'm now caught up.  I can now post about current current (imagine that rollerskating movie with T.I. and the girl saying New New lol) boys.  The most up-to-date possible.  Wish me luck.  Let's press on.