Tag Archives: stop double texting

Every time I see your face, I vomit on the pavement.

First thing’s first before I dive right into the heart of the matter. 1. Gizzy’s thank you post was much-needed, oddly, yesterday we received 69 (heh heh) hits and for some reason our number 1 search term is “large hanging appendage black penis.” Why is someone searching that phrase in Google? It’s not even in the right order…but hey, whatever works. My parents would be so proud to know I’m writing for a blog that features large hanging appendage black penis (that just got us 69 MORE hits). And D. I am currently drinking my first caffeinated beverage (grande soy carmel machiatto) since I finished detox and I’m buzzing around like a crack fiend searching for crumbs in the carpet.

Today, sweet Friday, I wanted to update you on all of my situations—because they pretty much have all exploded in my face.

Let’s start with my disgusting trashy cheating bastard ex. I haven’t mentioned him lately, because I’ve been trying to avoid everything that has to do with him. But he will not leave me alone. Last weekend, we had our final closure talk, I had some questions I needed answered as did he. Which I thought was fine. However, he told me that he was already in a new relationship. This is always hard to hear, but it was important for me to know so I can finally close the door for good and move on. Now, I write for another blog where I try to keep things more professional than I do here, but I do write about some of my dating woes. I mentioned my frustration with his new relationship and said I was convinced he was cheating on me and now I could finally put the puzzle together. I posted that last Saturday.

Well I woke up around 2:30 this morning to see I had a missed call from my ex, along with two text messages—

Ex (10:30 p.m.): You need to reconsider what your saying about me. You don’t have the right to post lies on your online journal project.

Ex (10:43): I didn’t think you would respond. In my experience, people who add their own twist to peoples statements never have the guts to answer to their lies.

Ummm…I don’t even know where to begin. For starters, it’s MY fucking blog, which means it is the one place on this earth that is all about ME and MY opinions. If you don’t like it, then quit fucking stalking me and stop reading it. Second of all, I never ever mentioned his name or any details that would lead people to believe it was him—so get over yourself. Because of the early hour, I did the quick fix and replaced my blog with a 404 Error message for the time-being. In the morning, I searched the blog with a clear mind, and spoke with my attorney friend—always comes in handy. She told me I was in the clear and to put the blog back up, so I did.

In all honesty, I have had things published about me that were not true, but the best thing to do is to rise above it and move on. If he wasn’t feeling guilty about it, then why bother? He  is the one who dumped me, so why not just be done with me? Especially out of respect for his new girlfriend.

Now onto the latest with Marko Polo. It’s been a long time since I’ve heard from him, thank God. About three weeks ago, he sent me a text on a Thursday night asking what I was doing the next day. I told him I already had plans, which was the truth—I had already bought a ticket to a concert. He replied back with “have fun!” Ok dude, I’m planning on it. I didn’t text him back and haven’t heard from him since.

Until last night, when my friend Leslie came over to watch Jersey Shore and DC Housewives.

“So I talked to Marko last night,” she said. “He just doesn’t know what to do with you anymore. I told him that it was okay, not everyone is meant to be together.”

I threw my hands up—”Are you freaking serious?”

“Yeah, he said he talked to you a few weeks back and you had a date?”

“Um no, I just told him I had plans.”

Here is my thing. First of all, don’t ask me what I’m doing the day before you want to hang out and get mad because I have plans. I am a busy girl, okay? I have plans every weekend usually a week in advance, so get over it. I am so tired of feeling like I need to move my schedule around for a guy simply because he doesn’t feel like putting in the work. If a guy wants to see me, then he can ask me in advance. End of discussion.

Onto the latest withNew Guy. Nothing really huge here other than he sent me a text Wednesday night.

NG (8:47 p.m.): Hey babe, come see me at the bar tonight.

Ugh, please. We haven’t spoken in three weeks and THAT’S the text I get? Honestly, I think it was a mass text to every girl in his phone.

In other news, things have come to a standstill with myDC Crush. After he NEVER responded to my text message—the one and only one I sent—he sent me another message on Facebook saying he had a long shift at The White House, and his phone was dead the entire time.

Sure, whatever. Later faggot.

RememberThe Cuddler??? Since he sent me the first “cuddle??” text, there have been several more which, as you can guess, is incredibly annoying. A few Friday nights back, he asked me what I was up to. I told him the truth—I was hanging out, having dinner at a friend’s house. He said, “are we ever going to hang out?” I said…”honestly, I am unsure about your intentions?” Of course, he pulled the innocent card and said, “ummm…hanging out like friends. What, did you think I was trying to hook up with you or something?”

Ok so NOW you try to insult me and act like you don’t want it. Please. No one sends late night “cuddle?” texts if they want to hang out as FRIENDS. Idiot.

Of course, some dramz at the office has occurred since I last told you aboutFatso. Remember when I went to ask about the flex schedule policy? Yeah, well that administrative coordinator then went behind my back and over my boss’ head to our supervisor and told HER that I was talking bad about my supervisor and being generally disrespectful. So now, everyone hates me.

Fuck you, you bitch.

Sigh, now that I’ve recapped my shitty week for you, I want to leave things on a good note. So, since I saw Winnie Cooper on the Today show Wednesday (when I played hooky from work), I leave you with a little Wonder Years…

“What would you do, if I sang, out of tune? Would you stand up and walk out on me? Lend me your ear and I’ll sing you a song…I will try not to sing out of key.”

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Now, the secret service is after me

Oh, what an interesting weekend it was…and by “interesting” I clearly mean boring. Since I have been drinking myself stupid for the last three months, I decided to go on a detoxification plan. This plan involves herbal supplements paired with a strict diet that includes no drinking (along with no salt, sugar, red meat, dairy, or caffeine). While the plan sucked at first, I only have nine days left and I’m feeling pretty good.

However, such a strict eating plan doesn’t make for very exciting weekend plans.

Naturally, since I couldn’t go out, I had random guys texting me out the wazoo. What the hell?

I got a text from Danny boy Friday night saying that we haven’t hung out in awhile and wanted to know what I’m doing.

Well, I didn’t know what I was supposed to say…anything I said would’ve sounded like a cheap excuse not to hangout. And if I told him I was doing a detox, then I would’ve sounded like a crack whore. Then, I realized how stupid the whole thing was, like why on earth do I even care what I say to this guy because he is such a total CREEPER?

Geez.

Well, shortly afterward, I get a message from the guy I met at that concert last weekend, Brad. He had been texting me throughout the week, which I thought was nice. However, I don’t remember him being the hottest of guys. NOW, I realize how superficial that sounds, but I was just telling Gizzy yesterday that I’ve never dated a guy who I think is a total HOTTIE.

Of course, I am physically attracted to them, or else I wouldn’t be with them. But I’m attracted to their personality first, and the looks come second. So right now, I’m on the lookout for a total hottie. And why shouldn’t I be? DAMN!

Anyway, Brad texts me saying he’s going to another concert and wants me to come along…ugh. I ran into the same problem as I had with Danny…I can’t tell I guy I’ve just met that I’m doing a detox—it’s going to come across all wrong. He’s either going to think I’m a crack addict, or a complete weirdo with an anorexia problem.

So I pretty much avoided both questions (from both guys) all together and hoped they’d think I was playing hard to get instead of sitting on my couch watching Will & Grace eating soy yogurt.

I fell asleep pretty early on Friday evening, which meant I woke up at 3 am, ready to rumble. Well, oddly enough, my friend Nicole (the one who is getting married) was still out partying and had sent me a message saying she found a guy for me. Ah, this is one of the many reasons I love Nicole. When I’m at home sitting on my fat ass, she is out, scouring the bars for eligible men for her lone single gal, Lucky.

So we are texting back and forth about this new guy she’s supposedly found and she decides to call me. So we talk for a bit and she says the guy, Burton, wants to talk to me. So we talk.

And he tells me he’s 24 (check)

From Jersey (eh, check)

Has a solid job (check)

As one of Obama’s Secret Servicemen (AND SIGN THE CHECK, SEALED, DELIVERED)

Wants me to take him to Nicole’s wedding (eh, we’ll see)

Says I should come to DC (uh, Check)

There just so happens to be another politico in DC that I’m trying to make out with. In reality, these need to be two separate visits, but damn, could DC be my very own man jackpot?!

Here’s to hoping!

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Marko? Polo! Marko? Asshole!

Hola bitches! As we speak, I’m sitting at my desk (the 9-to-5er) eating gummy blue sharks and listening to a 90’s playlist. If that’s not the recipe for a Manic Monday, then I sure as hell don’t know what is.

As I’ve previously mentioned, there is a new man in my life. I promise I will write more about him soon, but I am waiting to see if it actually materializes into something decent instead of one giant shit.

Since him and I are not exclusive, I still have funny dating stories for you all. You’re welcome.

So a few weeks back, it was a pretty chill Saturday evening and I went to visit my friend Anne at the bar she tends. I was sitting at the bar alone, waiting on a few friends, while I chatted it up with her and enjoyed a few free shots.

Well, every time I visit Anne at the bar, she introduces me to a slew of people that I usually don’t remember later. Not because I don’t care, but they probably just aren’t cool enough to register on my radar later.

So, as I’m sitting there, a guy comes and sits next to me. Anne introduces us, his name is Marko, and he swears he’s met me before. I say he probably has, but I have a horrible memory. My regrets.

Speaking of memory, I really don’t remember anything cool that he said to me, but he found it necessary to get me completely sloshed on vodka/sodas and Jager bombs.

When my friends arrived, we were sitting in a group at the bar and he ntroduced himself to them. We must have just been shooting the shit, because I really don’t remember anything of substance coming out of that night.

Well, Anne sends me a text that reads, “Marko thinks you’re fucking hot and cool as hell.”

Well that’s effing great, isn’t it? I don’t mean to sound like a conceited bitch here, but let’s be honest, I’ve heard many-a-time that I’m fucking hot and cool and where has it gotten me? Single at 25. So yeah. Thanks for nothing.

Marko is in his mid-thirties and owns a local Italian deli. His hairline is receding, revealing a large mole on his forehead. Just saying.

So I get up to go to the bathroom, and I learn later that this conversation went down between him and my gf.

Marko: So, I think your friend Lucky is pretty cool.

GF: Yeah, she is.

Marko: I think I’m going to ask her for the digits.

GF: Oh yeah?

Marko: Yeah, but the thing is, she used to work in a bar…and you know how those people can be.

GF: Umm…no, what do you mean?

Enter Lucky. It would be a great time to tell you that Marko has worked in a bar most of his life. So fuck off, buddy.

When I return, Marko asks me for my number in front of my friends, including Anne. Here’s his line: “Hey, can I have your number so I can text you, too?”

So…here I am in one of the most awkward moments ever. No only do I feel weird about rejec

ting this guy in front of his friends and my friends, but Anne is watching and I don’t want her to get mad at me if I don’t pull through.

So I say okay, and start reciting my number. I only make it through the area code when Mr. Hypocritical has something to say.

“Why do you have THAT area code. Is that where YOU LIVE?”

“Um no, do you want the fucking number or not?”

To this, Marko responds by looking over at my girlfriend and saying “See what I mean?”

Ugh.

After he grabs my number, he gets up to go to the bathroom. While he’s there, I get a text from him that says, “Do you like what you see?”

What the fuck? Was I missing the attached picture of his dick? How awkward and inappropriate. However, since I didn’t like what I saw I didn’t respond to the message.

After I was thoroughly trashed, I tried to do the responsible thing and stop drinking awhile before the bar closed. I had a few glasses of ice water before calling it a night and walking to my car.

Marko gave me a huge lecture about how I shouldn’t be driving and blah, blah, blah. I told him I was a big girl and to get out of my way. So I make it home safely and get into my bed, as I hear my phone go off—text message alert!

Marko (3:12 am): Want some company?

Lucky: No, I’m calling it a night.

Marko: Sucks for you! text me tomorrow

Umm, no i actually doesn’t suck for me because you are ugly and clearly a loser. So peace out turkey man.

So he gives it a few days before he texts me again, on Monday saying “We should do something sometime, you down?” If by something sometime, he means walking across a bed of rusted nails in our next lives, then sure.

I tell Anne that Marko was crazy texting me and being weird and he sent me the message asking me to do something. She felt bad about the crazy texting but said he was a nice guy, and he probably just had too much to drink. She said I should hang out with him sober before I made my final judgments on him.

Dammit.

So I reply to Marko, “Sure.”

Marko: ok, I know you work during the week, so just let me know what’s best for you.

Me: this week is pretty booked up, but maybe next week sometime.

Marko: cool!

I didn’t respond to this message and figured if he bugged me in a week, I’d goo through with the sober date, but if for some reason he forgot, then I wasn’t going to press the issue.

Four days later, I went to the bar where Anne was working and sat down alone. After ordering my first drink, I saw someone out of the corner of my eye leaning over the bar to catch my attention.

Marko.

Great. He waved me over to come sit with him. So I switched seats and he said a bunch of stupid crap that I really wasn’t listening to. Anne asked if I wanted anything to eat and I said I might, and asked for a menu.

“Didn’t you just eat?” Marko asked.

And deal breaker. I absolutely hate hate hate it when a man makes a comment about a woman and her eating habits.

“Yeah, I did. Got a problem?” I said.

“No…that’s cool.”

That’s what I thought mother fucker.

As the night continued, things just got worse. Since it was my birthday, I wore the appropriate shot-glass-necklace. I got several free drinks and shots from cute men, even a few with girlfriends, all the while Marko was watching from afar like a total creepster.

At the end of the night, he asked me what I was doing for the Fourth of July. I told him it was nothing big, but I invited a few friends to my pool to drink and cookout. So he says, “So I can come over?”

Thankfully, Anne pulled him aside and gave him a small talking-to.

Anne: “I think you need to back off a little. If you want to get to know Lucky, you need to make a reservation at a nice restaurant, open doors for her, you know, that kind of thing.”

Mark: oh really? she likes that sort of thing.

OKAY. This is where the problem gets serious. First of all, what girl doesn’t like that kind of stuff?? Even the sluttiest skank on da block would admit she likes a nice piece of steak for dinner and a guy to treat her like she’s human. And secondly, do I really seem like that shitty of a person where I don’t deserve a nice night out?

After that, I was done. No longer do I care what Anne thinks about it, I am not subjecting myself to a night of bland conversation all while a shiny forehead stares me in my face—obviously the face of a fat-ass-drunk-who-doesn’t-deserve-more-than-Popeye’s-for-dinner.

Since then, I got a text from Marko on July 4, asking me if I wanted to come to a party. I did not respond. On July 5, he texted me about doing something sometime. I did not respond. On July 8, he called me. I did not answer. I don’t want to jinx it, but hopefully that was the last I’ll hear from him.

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I can’t get no satisfaction.

Saturday night, I went out to the bar with my girlfriend, who wanted me to meet a guy friend of hers—Danny. She swore I would love him, because, in her words he was sooooo hot. She said he wore skinny jeans, and he wore them WELL. He had blond hair, done in a faux hawk, but not like the douche-y faux hawk way.

Uh- huh. Red flags all around. But what do I have to lose? Nothing.

So we meet him out and he seems pretty cool. Polite, buys me a few shots, and keeps tabs on my drink situation, which I appreciate. He let my friend and I dance some on our own and kept the conversation going nicely. When the bar made last call, my girlfriend suggested we go out for tacos down the road. We all agreed and headed that way.

Well, not one minute out of the bar and my girlfriend says she wants to get her food to go because she got sooooo tired all of the sudden (read: booty call). I said fine, do your thing and met up with Danny. My girlfriend didn’t end up meeting us at all, but Danny said he still wanted to eat, as long as I did. I agreed and he bought me a large helping of chicken nachos.

We talked for awhile, because of the beer in my stomach, I can’t recall all of the details, but I know it was decent enough for me to give him my number.

Big. Mistake.

Before I made it home I get a text…and from there it’s a train wreck. Who’s down for watching?

3:34 Danny: I had a really good time with you.

3:43 Me: Me too, thanks again. Have a good night.

3:44 Danny: Text/call me tomorrow…if you want to that is…

Later Sunday…

2:15 Danny: I just woke up. Want to get some breakfast?

2:33 Me: I’m already at the pool with my friends, I’m thinking of ordering a pizza.

2:35 Danny: that’s lame.

2:36 Me: Well it’s nearly 3 and I’m almost drunk again, that doesn’t really mix with breakfast.

2:39 Danny: Fair enough

2:50 Danny: sooooo….

3:32 Me: You are more than welcome to join us.

3:33 Danny: Maybe. I can’t decide what to do today

4:15 Danny: I should have joined y’all, I could use some sun

4:17 Me: There’s still some! But if you come, you must bring food.

4:19 Danny: I will text/call you after I walk my dogs and see what’s up

4:40 Danny: Soooo ??

4:46 It’s still me and Rachel out here, we pitched in some cash for kabobs to grill.

4:46 Danny: Ah, ok. It sounds like I should meet you another time then. Y’all have fun!

4:47 Me: Okay

4:49 Danny: ??

4:51 Me: What?

4:51 Danny: I’m just being dumb. I didn’t know what you meant by that.

***TIME OUT***Ummm am I on stupid pills or when you tell someone okay, it means sounds good, cool with me, etc? He suggested we meet another time and I agreed. Right? Right??
***TIME IN***

5:33 Danny: How was the pool?

5:45 Me: We are still out here, it’s a great time.

5:47 Danny: okay, well text/call me later if you wanna do something

10:38 Me: Just came in from the pool. A solid Sunday Funday!

10:39 Danny: A day with me would’ve been better

10:41 Me: I tried!

10:46 Danny: Right, you said it was just you and Rachel and you already had food.

10:47 Me: You’re ridiculous! I didn’t mean it was just us, I was trying to explain the situation. You were more than welcome to join.

10:48 Danny: Well that is the problem with just texting.

10:49 Me: Well if we get to know each other better, I’m sure it won’t be lost in translation.

10:50 Danny: Well said.

10:51 Me: So what did you do all day?

10:54 Danny: Well, when I got back from walking my dogs and you denied me from my plans I had…lol…I went and got food and came back to my house and got some work done

10:54 Danny: then got lazy

10:55 Me: Oh, well were you hungover this morning?

10:56 Danny: No, not really. I don’t really get hungover…I mean I do, but I have to get really wasted.

11:00 Danny: u wanna rent a movie or something…u had a full day…I didn’t…I’m bored…and since that is kind of your fault…

11:01 Me: I’m already tucked in bed

11:02 Danny: No way! it’s normal for me to start a movie at this time.

11:03 Me: Damn, that’s late. 630 comes early for this one.

11:03 Danny: ohh…well that explains it

11:04 Danny: I work for myself…at least for now…so I can do whatever.

11:05 Me: I see. I work 8-5, Mon-Fri

11:08 Danny: Do you not like to talk on the phone?

11:08 Me: Depends.

11: 09 Danny: What, you don’t kno me well enough yet?

11:20 Danny: And ur probly asleep. goodnight.

8:23a Danny: props to u for starting work this early…I hate getting up before 9…lol

9:05 Me: Ha yeah, I’ve been up for awhile now.

9:07 Danny: Wher do u work

9:08 Me: ***********

9:08 Danny: doing what

9:09 Me: I am the web editor

9:10 Danny: that’s kind of a big deal

9:10 Me: kind of.

9:23 Danny: well have a great day today…let me know if u wanna grab lunch or something.

10:29 Danny: Well alrighty then.

10:35 Me: I’m sorry if I don’t respond right away to every message. I have meetings all morning each Monday. Hope your day goes well!

10:39 Danny: ?? Just kidding around

I mean, this shit gets on my last nerve. I know, I know us ladies are never happy. But I know there’s got to be a middle ground between a guy ignoring me and jumping up my ass. If you text me and I don’t respond in the hour, I’m either busy, my phone is on silent, or I don’t want to talk to you. So take a hint and wait for me to write back before you send ANOTHER text, acknowledging the fact that I didn’t respond to your last one.

K, thanks!

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