El Hombre Con el Nombre Gracioso: Part 2

Ahem... One second here ladies while I stretch and pump myself up. This one's gonna take some serious finger flexing.

So I last left you with the ominous "I decided to like him" regret. Le sigh.

I should know better by now.

For you all might be aware of a phenomenon called "You never get what you want until you don't want it anymore." This phenomenon typically occurs with humans of the single variety when they are attempting to find a mate but really aren't in enough of a stable emotional state to handle one. More often than not, the single, emotionally unstable human will gravitate towards other humans that are just not that interested in him/her and will run like hell from a human who shows sincere interest. If science knows what's good for it, there will be lots of studies done on this phenomenon, for a solution will prevent a lot of hurt feelings and broken hearts.

But I don't want to place blame for this situation on that phenomenon. Because then that would mean it's not Hans's fault, it's mine. And we all know, I am completely faultless.

No ladies, I'm going to blame this situation on something called "Texting", another phenomenon that needs serious research. It used to be a simple concept. In lieu of calling someone, you can simply use the keypad of your phone to "type" a message which you can then send to the person you'd normally call. This tool is actually quite useful for common information exchanges, such as "What time should I come to the party?" or "My dog just pooped all over my rug, can I borrow yours?"

Unfortunately, there are some who have begun to expand the use of texting to things that in my humble opinion are simply inappropriate. The most inappropriate is the use of texting by some humans (mostly men) to be total and complete wusses.

I know it is human (mostly male) nature to be as lazy as possible, but whoever made the realization that one could text to form a relationship with someone rather than actually talk to them needs to be executed by firing squad. It should be considered an act of treason punishable by death. You think I'm joking.

For now, men don't have to be men. Now they can be big fat fucking wussies. I'm a bit bitter about this, can you tell?

Ok, so where were we? Oh yes, we exchanged phone numbers and Hans said he would call. Awesome. Except he didn't call. He texted. Arg.

Same day, in fact. Checking in on how I was feeling. Awww, that's nice. I said I was fine, how was he feeling? I received back a one sentence, no punctuation text that basically said, "I'm fine Didn't drink that much Just a little tired"

To which I said, "Well, thanks for staying up with me! (emoticon winky face) I had a lot of fun. I'd love to hang out again sometime soon!"

I'm sorry ladies, but is that an inappropriate thing to say? Because I got absolutely no response back from him. For almost 2 weeks.

Forgive me Hans, but I do believe that you initiated contact, fucker. I wasn't going to call or text anything at all. I put the ball in your court, and you bounced it back, man. I thought we were gonna get into a nice game of ping pong, but you took the ball and ran off with it!

What a child.

So I convince myself that I should be brave and put my money where my mouth is. I waited till the Saturday after Christmas, almost a week, and called him. With my phone. A real call, not a wussy text. To ask him if he'd like to go for a hike. Crazy, huh? I can't believe it myself. I'm such a Trail-blazer! Of course he didn't answer, and I left a dorky message.

And you know what ladies? I felt tons better. Sure my feelings were a little hurt, as no one likes to realize that "he's just not that into you", but I stuck by my beliefs. I did something brave, and now I can move on to the next guy. Screw Hans.

Except for the fact that a week later, I get another goddamn shit piss muther fucking TEXT!!!!

Ahem... excuse the outburst. I sincerely apologize for the profanity. This guy just gets me a little riled. Why did I have to decide to like him? It's seriously clouding my judgement here.

This one says something to the extent of:

"Hey! Sorry I've been a flake. Holidays were crazy with family. How've you been getting on?"

Now, please correct me if I'm wrong, but a text like that might just possibly mean that he really wants to know how I'm getting on. Right? Here comes Hans, running back waving the ping pong ball singing, "Ha ha! I tricked you! Just kidding, I really do want to play!" Well, dummy me, I didn't put the paddle down and walk away. It turned out to be a very one-sided game. Hans sucks at ping pong.

So, I give what I consider to be a normal response to such a text. I say, "I've been doing well! Busy! So glad the holidays are over!" For a couple rounds of texts, things are actually feeling kind of normal. I say one thing, and he says another. That is normal, right ladies?

Then all of a sudden the conversation becomes one sided again, and I know I don't have to tell you whose side. DAMMIT!!!!! He tricked me again! There he goes again, running off laughing like a maniac waving the ping pong ball! That's IT!!!!! Enough already. I am done.

Ha ha. If only. I no sooner wash my hands of the situation than here he comes waltzing into a party I was attending. "Oh hey there! How's it going?" - just like everything was totally normal. And I don't know, maybe in his twisted form of reality, this type of interaction is normal, but that's not how I roll ladies. Just can't do it.

Except for he's so damn cute. Especially now that the left half of his face isn't beaten all to hell. Ok, well...maybe I'll chat with him and who knows? Maybe he's just socially retarded and I can teach him things. The next thing I know, we're drunk again, and having a dance party again, and I'm sitting next to him, and we're talking and flirting, and then.....he's gone.

Wait. Wha? Who? Huh? Yup. Gone. Like a bat out of hell. Wow. Ouch. Well, that's that.

Except for his explanation the next morning. In the form of a text, of course. "I'm sorry I left so quickly last night. I got the spins, and if I had stayed any longer I might not have made it home at all. I sincerely hope you didn't think it was because of you."

UGH!!!!! Nope. Done. Done. Done. Done and DONE!!!!!!! Game over. Ping pong paddle down. Walk away.

Now why did that have to be so difficult? My oh my the silly things we let ourselves do. I have so much learning to do ladies!

El Hombre Con el Nombre Gracioso: Part 1

This one's getting long, so I'm breaking it down into 2 parts. Enjoy!

Oh Hans, Hans, Hans...

I really didn't want to write this blog. I kept waiting to start it, hoping you would do something to redeem yourself. Then I could write a nice blog about you. But such is not the case I'm afraid. Prepare yourself for my wrath.

Ladies, may the Gods of Karma forgive me for this one as well.

The dreaded holidays were approaching, and I was doing my absolute best to ignore this fact. It hit me really hard when I was volunteering at my normal gig called Coffee and Conversation. It's held at an apartment building in the city that houses a lot of people in pretty dire circumstances. Be it addiction, mental illness, chronic homelessness, or severe depression, these guys don't have a lot of positive things going on in their lives. So my job is to come in once a week to talk, listen, and feed. The week before Christmas we threw them a party with muffins and cookies and hot cider and Christmas movies... and it just simply broke my heart.

These poor people have no one, nothing. The highlight of their holidays is strangers bringing them food. They will go to bed alone on Christmas Eve, and wake up on Christmas Day the same way.

Oh snap.

Take the knife, stick it in and twist hard. That's me this year.

"Ouch" doesn't even begin to describe it. I couldn't breathe. The tears came, and I couldn't stop them. I had to get outta there.

I hadn't made a single plan for Christmas Eve or Christmas Day in my effort to ignore their existence completely. After spending some time (foolishly) trying to convince myself that none of my amazing friends were going to have time for a charity case like me, plans started popping up left and right, including a "progressive holiday party" thrown by a group of people I call The Law School Kids.

Oh how I love parties. Especially parties thrown by The Law School Kids. They just really know how to throw a good party. And it's one of the only groups of friends that I have that are a good mix of singles and couples. Only two problems:

1. The Ex will also be attending this party, and

2. I was feeling extremely fat and unattractive at that precise moment.

Ugh.

So, ladies, what's the best remedy for such negative feelings? A dress, of course!!!!! I woke up the morning of the party, and I don't know what came over me, but I went straight from bed to the closet and pulled out a dress that I hadn't been able to wear in years. Kristen, you know this dress, you bought it for me because you wanted me to have it so bad. I looked at it with desperation, for I was taking a bit of a risk here. If the dress didn't fit I would feel even worse. But I had to try.

Ok, not to toot my own horn here, but DAAAAMMMMMNNN!!! I look good. In fact, I'm kind of a hottie. I had to stand there for quite a while in order to wrap my head around this sensation. The dress doesn't just fit, it looks good. It hugs in all the right places, and with a pair of heels my legs look actually kind of sexy. I'd forgotten what it felt like to look at myself in the mirror and like what I see. Holy god, it feels amazing.

Bring on the paarrrttaaayyyy!!!!!!

But first, shopping! I must accessorize!

It's amazing what a little bit of confidence will do. I walked into that party feeling like a million bucks. I received many compliments from my awesome friends. The Ex arrived with a panic-stricken look on his face, which returned every time I said a word to him. I'm just speculating here, but perhaps he was for the first time seeing what he's missing?

I flirted. A lot. It felt awesome.

We drank. We ate. We sang Christmas Carols (against my better judgement) as we walked from house to house. And then, at the last house, we danced. And we didn't just dance, we had a genuine 80's dance party with lots of Madonna and bike lights for strobes. It was simply lovely. Of the two boys who's house it was, one was particularly interesting to me. His name was (for this blog's purpose) Hans, and he was quite attractive despite having gone over his bike's handle bars landing him with a black eye and swollen cheek.

As per my tendency, I was quite tipsy by this point, so things are slightly fuzzy. But I'll jot down to the best of my ability the rest of the nights events:

Everybody left but me. I don't really remember this part, but I know it happened, cause I looked around at one point and everyone was gone but Hans, his roommate Francis, and me.

My shoes came off. I'm not sure if this happened before or after everyone left. Bear with me here, I was drunky-girl!

I sat on the couch with the boys, and I'm sure we talked about something ridiculous.

I got a foot massage. From Hans. Ladies. A muther effing FOOT massage. And not just one foot. Both feet. Why? Because they were cold, and he wanted to warm them up. He massaged both of my feet till they warmed up. Do you have any idea how long that takes?!?!?!? I'm still reeling just thinking about it. To a girl in my line of business, a foot massage is as good if not better than sex. Just sayin.

So where was I? Sorry got a little sidetracked there (Whew! Breathe, MA.) Oh yeah. So next thing I know, we're in Hans's room, sitting on his bed, and analyzing a really cool piece of art he created. Not only is this guy a law student, he's also an artist. Good God. Shoot me now.

I'm sure you ladies can all guess where we ended up next. I won't go into the nitty gritty. I will simply say that it was oh so nice, if not a little frustrating as I decided it wouldn't be a good idea to actually sleep with the guy. Me and my damn morals! So we alternated the rest of the night between talking, groping and sleeping, though we got very little of the latter. I can't tell you how unbelievable it felt just to be touched again, kissed again, to have a body pressed against mine again.

I don't have any regrets about that night. The only regret I have is a decision I made the next morning. I decided that I really liked this guy. We exchanged numbers, and he said he'd call soon. I smiled, said that would be really nice, and walked away.

Hans, I'm going to choose to believe that you had the best intentions, but we need to talk...