Tag Archives: it sucks to be me

Go away.

Friday night, I participated in the usual activities of drinking until I am stupid. After drinking a few margaritas, Marcy and I, along with the usual guys headed to the bar.

I was thinking, “OH, I’ll just have a few beers, stumble home, hit the sack, and be up early enough to go to the gym tomorrow morning…”

Yeah… no.

I really did only have a few beers, but I also had a few shots… I remember swallowing a red snapper, a soco/lime (one of my favorites), and a jager bomb. Oy.

Naturally, mid drink-fest-dance-off, Joel decides, once again, to talk about “us.”

Let me refresh your memory. Me and Joel is not a thing. Ever since I’ve seen how much of a drama-starter he is, that was just the icing on the cake for me—hell no. Yet, every time we drink together “us” comes up in conversation.

Yeah dude, I get it. You don’t want to be with me. You wish you did. And hey, I don’t want to be with you either, so why are we talking about this again?

So around 1:30, we all head to Marcy’s, the typical plan, because even though we’ve all been drinking since 6 pm, we just can’t seem to stop. This is where things with Joel always get stupid. Because he tells me and tells me just how much he doesn’t want to be with me, and then we get in the same bed together and shit happens.

To avoid this, as soon as I cracked open my beer I told Marcy I was sleeping in her bed, even if she didn’t like it. And that is what I did.

Joel even found it necessary to come into Marcy’s room and kiss me (on the forehead) goodnight.

Whatever.

Saturday was non-eventful, although I didn’t wake up in time to go to the gym, I hit the showers and started drinking again, because I have a serious problem. I took a 3 -hour nap and rolled out of bed in time to see the 9 pm showing of Safe Haven (SO GOOD). It was just me and a box of Butterfinger Minis in a sea of couples. But it’s whatevs.

Sunday, I was really just trying to rest and hydrate and relax because this week (has been and) will be, a little bitch. However, I still wanted to go to the open mic night, if anything to get out of the house. So I did. And I read a poem. And the music was great. And I danced. And sang.

And then, I heard a familiar voice right behind my neck.

The creepy, crazy, stalker, texter, rapper.

I hadn’t seen him in weeks. I quickly gathered my belongings, held them close to me, and waited for the last performer to finish. I dropped my tip money into the jar and looked toward the only way out—the front door. And there he was. Standing. Waiting.

He turned his back and I made my move, walking briskly. And as soon as I got to the door, he turned and waved. I said hello. Then he asked, “How was your V-Day?”

Seriously?

What did he want me to say? That it was horrible and I sat around and cried and thought about killing myself and then I realized that I’d made a horrible, horrible mistake and he was the one I was missing and would he like to go out for coffee and work things out because I can’t, I just can’t, go on without him?

Instead, I told him it was wonderful, and that I somehow managed to get a boyfriend, get engaged, married, and pregnant on the same day.

So yeah.

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…And she’s gone.

Remember that time I met a super hottie and had great conversation, then he slipped in that he had a girlfriend? Well, after a bit of an awkward weekend, the girlfriend is gone and he’s single.

It really did sort of happen overnight, after an interesting chain of events.

Friday night, he joined me for a movie… to which I attended wasted. Since he had a girlfriend, I did a pretty good job of placing him in the friendzone, despite being attracted to him. While some flirting has been exchanged, his relationship seemed pretty stable and I wasn’t out to change that.

Friday, he told me he wanted me to meet his girlfriend. I wasn’t crazy about it, but said if it would make him feel better, cool.

Saturday, a group of us joined for brunch (bottomless champagne). One of his friends asked how his girlfriend was, he said she was good, but didn’t know when they’d see each other next (he said she doesn’t like coming here, because it’s boring and “ghetto”).

Sunday, I had invited him to a Super Bowl party and he said he’d attend, mentioning that he told his girlfriend he was  joining me for it. About an hour before I was expecting to see him, he said she surprised him by showing up, could she come to the party?

My heart said no, but my head said yes. So I said sure, bring her along, see you soon!

He then said, “I hope she isn’t a drag, she doesn’t like football,” and later, “She’s not a big drinker,” before finally saying they wouldn’t be coming at all.

I didn’t reply, wondering what happened there. He said, “It’s a long story, I’ll explain tomorrow.” All of us at the party guessed it was probably a rather short story, she hates me.

Fair enough.

Monday, he asked how the party was and said his night sucked. I asked what happened and he said it was too long to text. Monday evening, he called me. We talked on the phone briefly, during my drive from the “volunteer” work and a dinner party.

He sounded fine, cheerful, and we ended the call.

Later, he texted me saying he was going to sleep. Around 11:30, he sent me a message saying he couldn’t sleep.

I asked him what was wrong, if he’d been laying awake all this time?

Then he said it: well I got dumped about an hour ago, that didn’t help.

I told him I was sorry, he said not to be, and that he didn’t want to talk about it. We talked about a few non-related things and went to sleep.

In the short conversation, even through text, I felt the dynamic shift.

We were how we were because he had a girlfriend. Now he doesn’t. In an instant, the walls she had built were gone, and I was slowly building mine.

Don’t get me wrong, I like the guy. I’m attracted to him, but now that he’s single I’m doing the slow step backward. If he follows, after some time to lick his wounds, then we’ll see.

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This one’s for the singletons.

HEY YO, it’s Friday. Friday before Christmas, and I’m Jolly as hell, if that’s possible. Because I’m so cheerful, I’ve got a treat for ya! Resident Nice Guy Matthew wrote a lil somethin’ somethin’ to warm your hearts just in time for St. Nick’s visit. Enjoy!

Being single this time of year sucks.

I’m not speaking just in terms of Christmas and New Years. I’m talking December, I’m talking winter, I’m talking when it has the potential of getting cold enough (at least here in Kansas) to make you want to wet yourself to stay warm. Maybe it would more appropriate for me to say being single from about late November to late March really sucks. However, since Christmas is merely a short number of days away let’s keep this timely shall we?
During this time of year there is one particular type of person you do not want to be; a hopeless, old-fashioned, romantic. A person like this isn’t necessarily lost between the realms of reality and fantasy. This is the type of person who holds on to the belief that if you truly want the love-story-of-all-love-stories it’s up to you to make it happen. Do you know anyone like this? If not, please allow me to introduce you to one so you aren’t lost as you continue to read on.
 
Hi. It’s a pleasure to meet you.
 
It is my most humbled opinion that around this time every year my brain becomes hard-wired for having someone special in my life. Let me paint you a [word] picture (if anything, because I studied art for nearly a decade and I would hate to let those fine-crafted skills go to waste):
 
Our Story Begins…
 
On this particular imaginary December Saturday evening it is bitterly cold and snowing. Inside of the apartment one can hear Michael Buble singing ‘All I Want For Christmas Is You’; (Editor’s note: here, allow me  
…while from the kitchen two other voices can be heard laughing and singing along. While I am busy adding a secret ingredient (Rum Chata) to a couple cups of hot cocoa, [insert name of woman I should be dating] is plating our Chinese take-out. Carrying our respected dishes of the perfect “snowed in” meal we head to the living room where the fireplace has already been turned on to provide a combination of ambiance and warmth. As we both settle onto my freakishly awesome couch we begin the first Christmas movie planned for our holiday marathon.
 
Now, in the ideal situation I’ll be lucky enough to find a woman who will appreciate (tolerate) some of my unique choices in Christmas movies; such as Gremlins and Die Hard. However, other choices would consist of classics such as Holiday Inn andWhite Christmas; comedies like Christmas Vacation and Home Alone; to the more serious plot lines of Serendipity and The Family Stone. Regardless of what we watch, once we’ve finished eating she curls up in my arms and we cuddle under a fleece blanket. 
 
As the credits begin to roll on the second film I get up indicating that I’ll take the dog(s) out for a quick walk. While I’m securing my hoodie, before putting on the next layer, she begins taking care of our dinner mess because we’re awesome and believe in that teamwork thing. By the time I return she’s not only changed into some sweats, and that t-shirt of mine that looks oh-so-good on her, but she’s also poured a couple glasses of wine. Obviously no movie marathon is complete without popcorn. I remove a pot from a lower cabinet, pour in some olive oil, and switch on a burner. Don’t act so surprised that I didn’t just throw a bag into the microwave and hit the ‘popcorn’ button. You have to respect your food and make it with such respect. By the time I return to the couch I’m carrying a tub of popcorn with the perfect proportions of cheddar, and kettle corn, seasoning with a hint of melted butter. 
 
The credits are now nearly complete on the third film. The popcorn has been, more-or-less, devoured. Our wine glasses sit together, empty, on the floor. Glancing through the balcony door she notices that the snow is now tranquilly falling to the ground and recommends that we sit outside to enjoy it for a bit. I make a comment on how cold it is (below freezing). She counters by saying we can share a seat under one blanket, and bring out the remaining half-bottle of wine. I agree without hesitation.
 
The view from the balcony consists of a blanketed white landscape lit by a series of street lights running along side the street and strings of Christmas lights on neighing apartment buildings. After taking a pull from the wine bottle she nestles her head on my shoulder and hands it to me. After taking a swig myself I let out a relaxing sigh. She turns her head towards me, smiles, gives me a kiss on the neck, and lets out her own happy sigh. Four minutes total go by before she says she’s too cold and wants to go back inside.
 
At speeds that would even challenge The Flash she rushes into the apartment, slides the glass door shut and by the time I’m standing and facing the door, she locks it. Calmly standing in the cool elements I give her that “Really?” look we’re all familiar with. She stands there with the largest childish grin. It’s a great grin. How can I not like this woman? I try pleading with her. I try bribing her with promises. She doesn’t budge. At this point my ears are as red as Rudolph’s nose. Time has come to play the card that has a success rate of 83%. Puppy. Dog. Eyes. She says I’m not playing fair. This time I don’t budge until she finally cracks and unlocks the door. 
 
By the time my shoes have been removed, and I’m sliding the balcony door shut, she has found a place to sit directly in front of the fireplace. Her hand pats the ground next to her while she gives me an over-exaggerated come hither look. I point at myself pretending to ask her non-verbally, “Me?”, and look over both of my shoulders. Shrugging said shoulders, I slowly make my way over with hands deep in my pockets pretending to be extremely embarrassed but flattered. We both snicker as I sit down next to her. She looks at my still red ears and genuinely feels bad for her joke. Looking into my eyes she makes cups with both of her hands and holds them over my ears.  
 
We realize just how big of dorks we are. It works. I become lost in a trance as I watch the flicker of light from the fire reflect in her eyes. I can’t help notice just how beautiful she is. She returns with a look like she has just read my mind and knows I just called her beautiful.
 
 
Is that a vivid enough picture? 
 
This is how my mind works. That’s why is sucks to be me, during the holidays, and single. I’ll be completely honest with you and admit that it can be a bit of a downer from time to time. It isn’t a lonely feeling. I’m not lonely. I am fortunate enough to have incredible people in my life. I live in a city where I have close friends, and even family, anywhere between 5 to 25 minutes away. There are even more close friends, and again family, only a mere phone call away. Then thanks to the powers of technology there are friends who are a mere key stroke away. It would be virtually impossible, and illogical, for me to even try and convince myself that I was alone. I’m never alone. 
 
The present situation is, more or less, just frustrating. It’s frustrating because there’s so much inside that just wants to burst out. 
 
So let me say it again, being single this time of year sucks. 
 
Do I need someone in my life to make me happy, to make things feel complete? No.
 
But it sure as hell would be nice to have someone special to share all of this with. 
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Lamest weekend everrrrrr.

Last weekend I seriously had nothing to do.

I read an entire book before 10 am and then would pace around my apartment wondering what the fuck to do next. Hmm… I’ll move this coffee mug from the living room to the kitchen… now what?

Why did this happen? Because I didn’t have 30 deadlines to fill my 48 hours of “free time.” When I don’t have work to do, I don’t know what to do with myself. The weekend was followed by a Monday night full of trashy TV—a thing I hold dear to my heart, that I haven’t had much time for lately.

I watched 2 hours of Teen Mom 2, waiting for my latest obsession, CATFISH to come on. The amazing that is Catfish shall be saved for another day.

Don’t get my wrong, I appreciate the time when I don’t have to bust my ass, it just feels weird.

So this weekend, it was shaping up to be very similar. Come Saturday night, I was almost ready for work to come on Monday. How sorry is that?

I don’t know what it is, but I was antisocial nearly all weekend.

I know that part of it is the holiday season, and part of it is just me being depressed. A lot of me feels incredibly lonely, but I know being antisocial won’t cure that.

Anyone else feeling the blues?

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Another kind of cRaZy.

Just to get you up to speed, I went on that horrible date, then ignored about a dozen or so texts and calls from this guy, blocked him from Facebook… and then I got another text from him last Saturday night asking me out, yet again.

I decided to just come clean and tell him no, when he asked why, I said I wasn’t ready for a relationship. Partially true. I was trying to be kind.

He persisted, saying I didn’t give him a chance, and I just ignored these messages. Then, yesterday morning I awoke to the horror:

32 New Messages

All. From. Him.

Read on, if you dare.

1. I guess I should be used to this feeling, get used to it cause it aint new.
2. I want to let you know I would treat you BETTER than anyone ever did. treat you like royalty, like the Queen you are.
3. Never cheated on anyone, never did wrong to any girl but why am I the one who always ends up getting hurt. I know this might sound silly, but man its NOT FAIR 😦:(
4. Am I crazy for those feelings? I dunno anymore, I dunno why I even try.
5. At least let me know something, a reply like if you liked my record or something tangible. I dunno, tired of being the good guy

6. I guess you havent hurt me, I hurt myself. I expected something else. it just HURTS I cant hang out with you and get to know you better

7. I really strive to do my best. to treat EVERYONE right. that poem zero did tonight hit me hard. had a friend commit suicide last year
8. I didnt take it well, I was angry at him. then really sad, cause I saw him 2 months prior at a friends wedding. he had no hope.
9. I wish I could have talked to him more and SAVED his life. he felt like a burden in this world, I believe that was a selfish act.
10. like all my other college roomies, Jarrett was BROTHER. he was loved by lots of people
11. but he hid his sorrows good. he hid them from his best friend, from me.
12. if I could have just talked to him, maybe I could have saved his life
13. I dunno, I just wanted to hang out with you and get to know you more as a person and I figured if something happens it happens
14. and I guess in the recesses of my mind, I was HOPING it would happen cause you’re really smart, intelligent, funny, and i admire your gifts
15. you have me beat in writing, your intellect is what attracts me the most
16. figured you could help me with my stuff

17. I always get feedback from people and I dunno, don and Auto said my stuff was OFF

18. man I really STRIVE. I dunno what’s off, I really want to get better! but a few of my fellow artists who iIrespect say im off from time to time. I don’t understand…at all. smh.
19. you are a really awesome lady, and I wanted to show you how a TRUE GENTLEMAN treats a lady
20. thats what hurts me the most, I know you’re not ready and that sucks for me but I wanted to prove everything I said to you…Queen. you must do what you say and mean what you do.
21. always keep and honor your word, its all about integrity and honesty…less ye be a hypocrite
22. I know its cheesy and you can laugh at me if you want but I dunno im old school
23. I still believe in holding a door open for a lady, and giving my seat up if there is nowhere else to sit. I guess im trying to keep chivalry.
24. Corny I know, sorry but my beloved mother RIP gave me the name that sounds like it was meant for so much more… DESTINED.
25. do you think thats weird? I mean id love to hear more about your 7 different blogs, your thought process going in, everything
26. so in conclusion, forgive my lengthy novel texts, but I guess my synopsis is at LEAST please give me the CHANCE to KNOW more about you
27. as a friend and vis versa, at least give me that much Lucky.
28. I mean im genuinely interested and not trying to get in your pants interested like the mundane rabid dogs who play as men these days. I really dig you. Please. Thanks.
29. can you at least give me your opinion? Do you believe everything I said? say something dont leave me hanging. I spoke all TRUTH. I promise.
30. I just gotta know, I need to know.
31. Lucky  can I ask you a serious question? I’m really hoping you answer it, why did you agree to hang out with me before? Please tell me.
32. 😦:(
…if you’re still reading, please leave a comment and let me know you made it out alive.
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If this is west Nile…

Have I ever told you that I’m allergic to Mosquitos?

Whenever I get bitten by one, the bite swells up and hardens like a welt. Unfortunately, Mosquitos are drawn to me, which just makes the situation worse.

If I know I’m going to be outside, I always pack bug spray, which sometimes doesn’t help. Well, last night I met up with some friends for dinner, and we sat outside on the patio, near some bushes…bad news bears. Big time.

My legs and feet are covered. I didn’t bring my bug spray. I did, however, go homeland cover myself with caladryl and take a Benadryl. Then, I laid in my bed and waited for west nile symptoms to appear. They never did, and I drifted into a wonderful, deep sleep.

This morning, I’m pretty happy to be alive and symptom-free. I even woke up and did some exercises using my new set of resistance bands (I’m feeling chubby and very selfconscious lately, so I’ve upped my workouts) while watching episodes of Home Improvement. Have you ever worked out with resistance bands? They give a nice workout, buti couldn’t stop thinking about that scene in “so I married an axe murderer” where mike Myers is doing the thigh master while watching the news and he looses grip on the thigh master, which goes flying across the room.

Anyway, I’m back in bed now, typing this on my new iPad, which I got on vacation. After this, I’m going to move into my living room and do my Crunch yoga DVD, and then maybe have some coffe and yogurt before showering and going in to work. Because, like my boss says, I shouldn’t feel chained to my desk.

My beach vacation was very nice…much needed. I got a nice tan, read a few books while sitting on the beach, got plenty of sleep, and even enjoyed lots of delicious cocktails, despite several bartenders in forming mmy that my lisence  was expired. Of course it was.

As always, life aftervacation is brutal. I miss the beach and the abundance of hot guys, and although I’m not chained to my desk, even walking into that office just sucks. At least Friday is just around the corner…

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Karma owes me.

There is a situation happening right now, readers, that I wish I could tell you more about. Unfortunately, giving away all of the details will reveal my location.

However, I think I can tell you enough to get across the message of my frustration.

For starters, there has been an emergency in the town where I work and live. For most people, in these types of emergencies, they get to hunker down, or go to work, drink, party, whatever, generally live their everyday lives. But since part of my job is working in the Emergency Operations Center of my company, I usually have to work during these situations.

Luckily, these kinds of things don’t happen very often, but when they do, they suck ass, because we are forced to work abnormal hours and through the weekend. So, we were informed of this emergency Sunday night, and I was assigned the day shift, from 7 am until 3 pm, which is really close to my normal work day, so it wasn’t a big deal.

Well, what sucks about working in the new conditions is that you have to work in the same room as everyone, and it’s really loud and hectic and annoying. Anyway, Monday wasn’t a big deal, but Tuesday, I rolled into work and everyone was looking at me like I was a retard.

“Where’s your stuff?” They asked. “Umm… what stuff?” I said.

“Your air mattress and your toothbrush?”

Yep, that’s right, we air expected to sleep in this building for the next 48 hours. Fuck. My. Life.

So, I said, oh no I’m not staying. Then my boss chimed in basically telling me if I wanted to keep my job, I would go home and pack a bag. So here I am, with an air mattress, my laptop, and a stack of Will & Grace DVDs.

I’m not really a religious person, but if you feel like it, pray for me.

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