Fuckwittage: It's catching

Recently, I met up with Luigi. I probably shouldn't have, but I needed some closure.

I didn't get it.

Turns out, it's complicated. (Isn't it always?) It's also a long story, which I honestly don't feel like getting into right now, because when I do, I pretty much always start to cry. Let's just say I'm not the problem, but until the complications go away, I have no closure, and I just sit around wishing things were different. I even went on a date with the Pool Boy, which was a perfectly nice date, and I enjoyed myself, until it was all over, and I was thinking of Luigi instead of the Pool Boy. And then I started to notice that the Pool Boy was playing a game.

It started when he was teaching me to play pool. Before he even asked me for my number, he announced, unprovoked, that he had come out of a relationship last year, and that he was damaged goods. Aren't we all? We're not kids anymore, at this stage in our life, everyone has a few bruises. I knew this was his way of telling me before I had even thought to ask, that he wasn't interested in a relationship, so if I wanted one, I was barking up the wrong tree. Don't worry, Pool Boy, I'm not interested.

His good friend did the same thing to my friend Amelie. He and Amelie went out for drinks one evening, but before the evening started, he was sure to inform her that he was also out of a relationship last year, and he didn't want to get into anything either. Then I noticed that both of them are playing the same game. Hot and Cold. One day, they'll greet you in the student union with enthusiasm and a kiss on the cheek and tell you how great you look. The next day, they won't even acknowledge you. Amelie and I decided immediately we were not about to play this game. We're not in high school anymore, boys. Grow up.

But the "emotionally unavailable" rash is spreading. And yesterday, I had a good, long, coffee and pastry break with my friend Audrey, who is seriously hot. (And who I'm trying to convince to go out on a date with my housemate.) But take heart: Even the really pretty girls get their hearts broken. She had been going out with a guy who is also a friend of mine (we all go to school together), although there was something about them that always made me squirm a bit. He's ten years older than she is, and she's so pretty, and he's so... not. Also, I could see how much she liked him, but I also knew from being friends with him, that he wasn't exactly looking for anything at the moment either. Sure enough, on the same weekend I saw Luigi, Audrey was having a slightly similar conversation with him (although with more fuckwittage). He told her that he had lately started thinking about his ex, and now he wasn't as enthusiastic about her as he had been at the beginning. Seriously? He's not as enthusiastic about her? She told me she felt like he was making it out to be her fault that his enthusiasm had waned. It's not her fault. He's being a fuckwit.

I mean really, guys. If you are still hung up on someone from your past, that's fine. But don't start something with someone else. I really don't know what's worse: starting something and then pleading emotional unavailability, or walking around telling girls you're "damaged goods" as a get-out-of-jail-free card. In the latter case, you're covering your bases immediately. That way, we can't call you a fuckwit: you already warned us.

In the meantime, get thee into therapy and move on.

Raging Bull

Last week, I tried to be angry, only I wasn't truly angry. But now I am!

It started on Wednesday. The cute neighbor had told me he would leave it up to me if I wanted to contact him again, and we had left our last conversation a little upset and frustrated. I called him on Wednesday to tell him that yes, I knew it probably wouldn't work past his leaving date, but that I was hopeful. And also, that I wish that had been reiterated before he left, because I feel like I've now been put through this twice. He apologized and took full responsibility for how he handled it. Then we chatted casually and he ended the conversation by saying, "Ok, I'll talk to you later." An hour later, he texted me to give me an update on where he was watching the baseball game.

Really? How am I supposed to get closure with "talk to you later" and conversational texts? I was very proud of the fact that I didn't respond.

Then I made the mistake of watching The Proposal on tv. By the end of it, I was getting a little weepy. When Ryan Reynolds chased Sandra Bullock back to New York from Alaska, I practically threw the box of wheat thins I was eating (for dinner) at the tv and screamed, "THAT'S NOT THE WAY IT WORKS!" Then the weepy turned into whole body sobs with ugly tears. For about a half an hour.

On Thursday I swore off watching all romantic comedies for awhile and called McNerdy to come hang out with me in order not to have a repeat of the previous night. It worked.

Then on Friday, The Rage really kicked in. I have the cute neighbor to thank for kick-starting it too. On Friday afternoon, while at work with a 5 and 10-year-old, I got a text from him. Another random, conversational text. It threw me for a loop. I felt sick and distracted. I stopped paying attention to the kids, and had to shake myself out of my stupor when I realized that one of the kids was trying to beat up the other with the step stool. That's when I got angry. I couldn't get home fast enough to call him and tell him to leave me the fuck alone. Of course he didn't answer his phone, as it was in the middle of his workday (but he interrupted mine, so I figured it was worth a try), which only made me angrier. How dare he?! How dare he act as if nothing had changed? It would be so easy to fall into that trap with him, but I'm going to be very mature and grown-up here, and tell him that we can be friends someday, but we can't be friends now. And now by not answering his phone, he was depriving me of this conversation, which in some way I think would have really helped me on the whole closure process.

I got angrier and angrier. He knew exactly how he felt, and he knew how I felt, and yet he strung me along all summer, and I was left feeling like I had gone through two big break-ups in two months. Nobody deserves that! Nobody can take two break-ups in two months! Why would he do that to me? The bastard! The douche bag! He was not honest with me. I expected so much better of him.

Eventually he sent me a message telling me he had a phone meeting and couldn't call me back but that he was sorry he texted me and he shouldn't have. I got angrier. I wanted to be able to tell him that myself. He still hasn't called me back, which I guess is what I want, but I also want the pleasure of telling him these things myself. Finally yesterday I emailed him and told him no, you shouldn't have texted me. Yes, we can be friends someday but no, we can't be friends right now because 1. I need time and space, and 2. I'm very angry about the way you handled this and put me through this not once but twice, and I expected better from you.

And now I need a rebound. Badly. Unfortunately, Baby-child left town on Monday, and that was way too soon. I was hoping The Dark Horse would come through for me, but he's out of town. I feel like I'm on the clock too, since I'm going back to Pennsylvania next weekend, and heaven knows there are absolutely no chances for a rebound there. Another reason to be angry. His handling of the situation could prevent me from properly rebounding. FUCKWIT!

Breakin' up is hard enough

I read/heard/made up the fact that January is the most common month for breakups. If you think about it, it makes sense. People wait until after the holidays but well before Febuary 14th. It's also the time of year that one starts thinking about their life and the changes they need to make. In honor of the suckiness that is January, I've compiled the best ways to break it off. And by best, I do mean worst.

• The Voicemail. Ballsy enough to call, douchey enough to leave it in a message. Pro: Can pretend you never got it "Ugh, I swear this stupid phone eats my voicemails!" Con: You can replay, forward, and store it for 30 days while you wallow in a tub of ice cream.
• The Post-it note, a la Berger to Carrie Bradshaw. Pro: Short, sweet, and stickie. You can put it anywhere! Con: It's a fucking post-it note.
• The Facebook message. Facebook: the true homewrecker. Pro: Immature actions validate immature reactions.  Respond by writing on his wall: "By the way, your micropenis and mediocrity were NOT worth the herpes. Thanks a lot asshole." Even when he deletes it, rest assured at least 1-100 people saw it. Con: It's a fucking Facebook message that you'll be reminded of every time you get on Facebook.
• The text. For those with the maturity of a 13-year-old. Pro: Can have a real time conversation about it (via text), assuming he doesn't purposely send it during a time when he knows you can't answer, which let's face it, he will.  Con: You have to have a conversation via text (Not all of us have fancy phones/know how to use T9 Word/have normal size thumbs, ok?).  You can save it in your phone forever.
  
• The Disappearance. If you haven't heard from your boyfriend for a week (and he's not in the military/CIA), it's over. Pro: You never have to see his face again. Con: You'll never have closure. Ever.  Partly because you're worried he might be dead. 
  
• The Key Return. You come home to find the spare key you gave him on your coffee table and his toothbrush is missing. Pro: You don't have to worry about changing your locks. Con: No closure. It will leave you in a WTF? daze for days.
• The Bed and Break-up.  Because what better time to tell a girl how you really don't like her than when she's naked and sweaty?  Pro:  He actually told you to your face.  What a grown-up.  Con: You're naked.  No one deserves to be dumped naked.   
  

Let's be rational

So now that I'm no longer in a (slightly) drunken rage, it would be a good time to re-evaluate the Fuckwittage of Jonny Damon.  It's been a week, and fear not friends, I'm ok.  Sure I still think about it, and yeah I still get kinda bummed at times, and no, I haven't really eaten much at all this week, and yeah I have gotten drunk a few times,  but I am OK.  For real.  I've already made some crucial steps that tell me I may not be over it, but I am over him (or at least I'm well on my way).    

• Unfriended on Facebook. After I deleted his fuckwitting Facebook message, I unfriended him.  Not because I hate him, but I don't want him showing up on my newsfeed every other day.  I particularly don't want to see that he's "In a relationship" next week and although that would seem fast,  if there's something we've learned from fuckwitts it's to never underestimate their inherent fuckwitting ability (yes, you can quote me on that).
• Figured out what actually happened.  In his final message he made a lot of "I" statements ('I just can't do this right now') but what he was really saying was "I'm just not that into you".  It had nothing to do with timing or whatever the hell else he blamed it on.  He's just not that into me, plain and simple.  And the thing is, that's ok.  I know I'm not the average girl, I'm not everyone's cup of tea, I get it and I'm ok with it.  
• Having the fantasy.  No, not that he'll suddenly change his mind and declare his love.   The other fantasy that every girl has.  Running into the man that wronged her several months later.  I, of course, will look glamorous, skinnier, prettier, and happier than ever, with a taller, darker, handsomer (not to mention better endowed and fuller hair) man by my side.  He will look like he lost a little weight (due to the perpetual diarrhea I cursed him with) but his hairline will have receded and there's sadness in his eyes as we have a polite conversation in which he regrets ever saying goodbye.  (In reality, in the slim chance I ever would run into him I would, of course, be wearing sweats, with crazy unwashed hair, eating a doughnut all alone.  Life never happens the way I want it to).     
• Giving the silent treatment.  I've been drunk a few times this week (for good reasons, I swear) and I haven't drunk texted/called him once! Hoorah!  I did hear from him the other day, "Hey Grayer, I know you probably don't want to hear from me but can I have your address, so I can send you your movie."  Well yeah, you better send me my movie and shut the hell up, I'll decide if I want to hear from you or not.  Ass.  I told him to stop being so dramatic (and also stop assuming I'm sulking/hating).  As for that dvd, I'll believe it when I see it. 
• The realization.  I've realized why I'm disappointed.   It's not him.  He's just made me realize in this whole crazy ordeal that I might actually want an actual boyfriend.  There I said it.  I didn't get on OkCupid to find a boyfriend, I got on OkCupid to date (and to save this blog).  But maybe I don't want to just date, maybe I just don't want to be alone anymore.  That's a big revelation.  Although I would have gladly called that kid my boyfriend (he's still really, really cute) I'm glad it didn't come to that, it could have taken me months to figure out that he was a fuckwit.  And he is, by all means, a fuckwit.  

The return of Fuckwittage

(Disclaimer: Not going to lie, I basically drank a bottle of wine as my dinner tonight, for good reason. However, if the dropping of F-bombs as if it were World War III, offends you, you needn't read this post).

Mother. Fucker.

It's my word of the day.  Go on, say it aloud.  It will make you feel better.  It's really the only thing you can say when dealing with first class fuckwittage.   I had a Facebook message from Jonny Damon this morning.  He never sends me messages.  Mother. Fucker.  Jonny Damon was breaking up with me via a Fucking Facebook message.  Mother. Fucker. 

We'd only been dating for a month and a half, maybe it wasn't that bad of a protocol to end it that way.  But wait, let me explain.  An hour after I left his house, he sent me a fucking facebook message to end things with me. Two hours after he made me breakfast and kissed me goodbye, he sent me a fucking facebook message to end things with me.  Three hours after we woke up and laid in bed talking, 12 hours after we had sex, 14 hours after we snuggled on the couch watching a Christmas movie, he fucking sent me a fucking facebook message to end things with me.  What. the. fuck.

You know the great thing about being dumped via Fucking Facebook? You get to reread the message several times, have all those feelings over again, and then copy and paste into a blog meant to bash the fuckwit.  The subject line is "Hi" because really, what else could it be?  

Grayer,

I know this is not the best way to handle this situation, but  I've had a lot of fun with you and think you are an amazing person, but I don't want to hurt you if things get more serious; which I feel is starting to happen.  I just don't think that it is the best thing for me right now. I hate having to do this, but I've been in situations where I would have rather somebody told me earlier than to keep something going that wasn't meant to be. No matter what I write I know you will hate this and probably hate me, and I am sorry, but I just don't think I can do this right now. I'll miss you Grayer and I hope you have a great Christmas with your family.

Jonny Damon

See?  Isn't he an asshole?  Ok, maybe he doesn't exactly sound like an asshole out of context but please remember that I had just been with him an hour earlier, and he said nothing.  Everything was fine and fucking dandy.  So that's why the first and foremost feeling I was having was fucking rage.  And really just wanted to send this back.

Subject:  Hi? Asshole.

Jonny Damon,

Fuck you.  You MotherFucker.  Why couldn't you grow a pair and tell this to my face? I was just with you. Think of all the moments that you could have brought this up.  You had no problem being around me.  You had no problem sleeping with me.  You're a dick.  You're starting to feel like this is getting serious?  I see you once a week!  You're the one that invited me to a fucking wedding and introduced me to friends! And don't say you just can't do this right now, because you knew exactly what you were doing.  And, you had to do this on the one time that I ever left something at your house.  I want my fucking dvd back.  If your plan was to make me so mad that I wouldn't be sad, congratulations, you did it.  May you be cursed with bad karma and perpetual diarrhea.

Grayer

No, I didn't send this.  I just sat staring.  Tried to do work, just kept staring.  I eventually texted him.  It was cool, it was casual, it was "Seriously? You couldn't have told me that this morning?"  Ok, it may have also eluded to his lack of balls.  We had a brief conversation in which he apologized profusely, said he was awful at confrontation, felt bad for me driving to his place, yada fucking yada.  After I stopped being so pissed about it (ok, I'm still kind of/really pissed about it),  I just kind of had to laugh.  Who the fuck gets dumped via a fucking facebook message.  The subject was 'Hi' for fuck's sake.   I was just starting my day at work and I get dumped.  Via Fucking Facebook.  At least he didn't post it on my wall...

Once I chilled out a bit I sent him a final message:  "I don't disagree with what you said.  I disagree with how you said it.  Don't be that guy.  You could have told me."  I was very proud of myself for being so eloquent.  I didn't ask him why, I didn't try to change his mind.  He did the right thing, I just didn't like the way he did it.  When it comes down to it, once I stopped being so pissed, I'm really just sad.  I liked him.  I liked him a lot, and clearly he did not feel the same way.  And that sucks.  He sucks.  Dating fucking sucks.  Mother. Fucker.

The Ex Factor

Not long ago, we posted a list of facebook fuckwittage, a list of 8 crimes committed against cyberspace. I think we should add another to that list: Do not post old pictures of your friends and their exes years after they have broken up. Or for that matter, don't post pictures of you and your ex years after you have broken up. Not one but two examples of this popped up on my newsfeed this week.

The first was Fenella, looking awfully cozy with a guy I did not recognize. At first I thought it was The White Horse, but when I clicked on the picture, not only did it not look like The White Horse, but it was not tagged with the White Horse's name. Odd. So I asked Fen what was up, and sure enough, it was a picture of her and her boyfriend way back in Uni (or college, as we would say here in the States), and a friend was just now posting it several years later. I couldn't help but think, "I wonder what The White Horse thinks of this photo?"

I got my answer today. As I opened up facebook, the first story in my newsfeed was that the cute neighbor was tagged in a photo by one of his good friends. It was a photo from Halloween two years before, an entire year before I had even met the cute neighbor. In the photo with him was his ex-girlfriend. I know this because they were holding hands.

The cute neighbor has 7 years on me. That means when he was graduating from high school, I was finishing up the 5th grade. That's a lot of extra years to accumulate ex-girlfriends and ex-hook-ups. I know that they exist, and I'm ok with that. Really, I am. Unless you marry your high school or college sweetheart right after graduation, it's going to happen. We all have a past, and as long as that past doesn't carry an STD with it, it's fine.

I do not, however, need to put names and faces to the past. I know some women diligently go through every photo of their current beau, looking for just that, but I am not one of them. Absolutely nothing good could possibly come of it, so why do it? It will only lead to jealousy and insecurity, and I'm good without that, thank you very much. And since I have made the effort to be very good and not go snooping through old pictures, I would like it very much if those old pictures of my boyfriend and his ex-girlfriends would not show up in my newsfeed. Is that too much to ask for? Am I going to have to "hide" him? Is it even possible to have a healthy facebook relationship with the person you're dating?

Why hello anger, I've been expecting you...

I had the disappointed stage.

I had the hurt stage.

Now I've hit anger.

We've all been there. We get interested in a guy, non-platonic things happen, we think this might lead somewhere and then...nothing.

I've never understood how people can do this to another person. If you're not interested in someone then please don't give them any non platonic indications that you are! It's really not difficult to understand.

What's so frustrating is that this has turned WW into the nicest guy I've met for a long time to a fuckwit. And that is disappointing. Now I feel that we can't even be friends, which I wanted. I said to Vi after the first time I met up with him that even if nothing more happened I would be happy just being friends. Now, if we were to meet up 'as friends' I'd just be looking at him the whole time thinking "you fuckwit, you."

Whew, that's the anger stage over and done with! The benefit of going through these stages when you haven't been in a relationship with the guy is that the stages occur so much quicker.

Looking at the positives: lots of compliments today on my outfit and hair. Retail therapy rocks!

The Fuckwit Hall of Shame

Oh, The Disappearance. The torture tool of choice by fuckwits everywhere. By now the entire world knows that John Boy pulled one on me. And yet, he did actually call me last week to let me know that he was still alive. He acted as if everything was fine, but I know he was hiding something. I'm going to assume it's herpes.

Of course, he assured me when I talked to him that he would call me again soon, because he really did want to see me before he left. With him scheduled to move on Wednesday, I still hadn't heard from him by Sunday night. Obviously, by this time I was seeing red and didn't want to be chummy with him, but I still had unfinished business: I wanted my books back.

So I called him and left a message that I would swing by his place on Tuesday afternoon to collect my books. He didn't respond. (Was I surprised? Of course not.) On Tuesday morning I sent a text. No response. When I finished at work, I called again. He didn't answer. I got in my car and drove to his place. With him leaving on Wednesday, he should be home, packing up all his stuff.

I told Grayer that I was planning on going over there to get my books back, and she told me, "that better be all you do." Unless, of course, I poked around his medicine cabinet to find out which STD he was hiding. I assured her I would pick up my books and leave, but I did wear a super cute dress just to remind him what he had missed out on.

As I got closer, I started to feel really silly. Was I really going over to his house? On the off-chance that he would be there? But yes, I was. I really wanted to re-read Ordinary People, dammit! As I pulled on to his street, No Doubt's "Don't Speak" came on the radio. I laughed at the appropriateness of it, and wondered if it was a sign. For what, I don't know. Although I still got out and knocked on the door, it didn't take long for me to realize no one was home. His truck wasn't there. It was official. I was never going to see John Boy again.

He's Just Not That Into You says (repeatedly) "don't waste the pretty." I had no intention of wasting the pretty, so after work that night, I drove to The Highlander's so he could pay up on a bet that he lost. My cuteness was definitely not wasted on him. I believe the word "amazing" was thrown around. And he's cooking dinner for me tomorrow night. Who needs John Boy?

Besides, he is a distinguished member of the Fuckwit Hall of Fame. And he has herpes.

Operation: Cockblock

Last night over burgers, my friends and I hatched a plan to put a stop to The Ultimate Fuckwit.

The Ultimate Fuckwit just happens to be my former boss. When he was my boss, we didn't realize how much of a fuckwit this guy really is, but after he was promoted to an even higher job and no longer our boss, we figured out that he's not just an ordinary fuckwit. His fuckwittage goes way beyond your run-of-the-mill fuckwittage, like not calling. He destroys lives.

When TUF was my boss, he was married, but by the way he talked about his wife, I wasn't sure. He certainly didn't sound like someone who was too terribly in love with his wife, and I wondered if he was already divorced (he wasn't). There were rumors that he was carrying on an affair with a married woman in the company for which we worked, but nothing more than speculation. After his promotion, he began an affair with my new boss, his replacement. She was married, has two children, and her then-husband also worked for the same company. Her husband, poor guy, heard about this through the grapevine. He quit his job. They got a divorce. TUF divorced his wife. Meanwhile, the first rumored affair woman had a baby. Everyone, and I mean EVERYONE asked the obvious question: Was it her husband's or The Ultimate Fuckwit's?

My new boss and TUF moved in together, bringing all 4 of their combined children with them. A few months later, he left her and resumed relations with the first woman. Seriously. This man grew up a Nerd, and now he works in a profession dominated by women, and he seems to be making up for lost time.

Flash forward 1.5 years. I no longer work with this company. He is still at his job. And he has his sights set on a newcomer, a poor, innocent newcomer. New in town, who knows nothing of his reputation, and thinks he is just a nice guy who is willing to show her around town. She also happens to be my friend Penelope's new supervisor. Penelope can't really say much to stop her, since this woman writes her reviews. As we sat there last night, another friend said, "I want nothing more than to cockblock him."

That's where I come in. I don't work for this company anymore. His prey is new to town, and in need of a yoga partner. Penelope is going to set up a friend date for the two of us. At some point, I'll talk about my time working for him and how scandalous everything was, feigning innocence at her current relationship with him. From there, it's up to her, but she has to know that everyone she works with knows exactly what's going on when they see the two of them talking to her. Operation Cockblock is about to commence...

Don't Hate the Player, Hate the Game

Forgive me if I ramble, but I'm still in a bit of shock. As you know, I met Halpert last week, and it was kind of awesome. He sent me a "Have a great day" text on Tuesday, then called on Wednesday, which was also kind of awesome, and we made plans to go out on Friday. He asked if I had any other food aversions (I have a lot), so he would know what kind of place to take me to. He made me laugh, ne', giggle. Then he called me again Thursday afternoon, just because he knew I had several hours to kill between my classes. (I was bra shopping at the time, which I decided I shouldn't tell him; it may give him unrealistic expectations regarding our date.) Needless to say, I was really looking forward to our date on Friday.

Then on Friday, just as I was about to start getting ready, he called with bad news. Something came up, and he had to go baby-sit his 2-year-old niece. He sounded genuinely disappointed, and wanted to make a plan to reschedule right away. I figured this was probably a good sign, since he a.) actually called, as opposed to texting and b.) rescheduled right there on the phone. So while I was seriously disappointed, I couldn't really be made at him. I mean, he was baby-sitting his niece. That's kind of adorable.

This afternoon, I was talking to Scarlet while I waited for him to call and tell me what time he was going to pick me up, when I received a text message. It was from him.

I'm going to be honest...

Shit. Nothing, nothing NOTHING good can possibly come from these words, not after one date. It's The Kiss of Death and ranks right up there with "We need to talk." I didn't want to read on, but I did.

I just became serious with someone I've been dating, so I don't think it's fair that we see each other anymore. You're a great person, the timing just wasn't right.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuckity fuck. (Scarlet and I also noticed that, for two people who rarely swear in real life, we really let loose on this blog. That's what dating will do to you, I guess.) I was- and still am- seriously bumming, but as Scarlet pointed out, at least he told me this after one date, and not after seven weeks. But of course, the signs were there, I just chose to ignore them. Remember when he didn't call me for five days and Baltimore Dan told me to pick up the phone? And when he called to "postpone," he suggested Sunday as a make-up date, as opposed to Saturday. My guess is he and this other girl decided to become exclusive on Saturday night. So yes, the timing sucked. What if I had contacted him earlier? We were both aware of each other's existence for a few weeks before either of us made contact. And what if we had gone out again on Friday and I had been given a second chance to impress the pants off of him? (Not literally, of course, I'm not that kind of girl.) I realize that you're probably screaming at the computer screen right now that he was LYING, but I think that if he was indeed lying to me on Friday, that someone should call the Academy and get this man an Oscar. Yes, it is a possibility, in which case he is a complete and utter fuckwit. But if life mirrors Sex and the City (without the fabulous shoes) then I am a Charlotte, and I remain hopeful. And it's easier to do that when I think the stars just simply didn't align on this one.

At first, I decided I wasn't going to respond. But after cooling off a bit, I sent him a "thanks for the early heads up, good luck!" text. If nothing else, this will show him how cool I really am, and if things don't work out, he will be that much more likely to call me. Not that I will be sitting around waiting for the call.

But at least for today, you can find me eating Mint Chocolate Chip ice cream, listening to the S.A.D. playlist, and contemplating how the hell I'm going to get those stars to align.

Violet's Cyber-Dating Hall of Shame: First Round Inductees

I wouldn't call myself a veteran of the cyber dating world, but I've met up with 6 eligible bachelors in the last four weeks. Bachelor #6 seemed to me to be a complete failure- not only did he not pay for my hot chocolate, it turns out he attended the same Institute of Higher Education that Scarlet and I did, but only for one semester. Why only a semester? "I hated it," was his answer, and in my head I thought, "OK, this clearly won't work out." However, the next morning I received a text message from him (followed shortly after by a text message from Halpert), and even though I didn't respond to the text message, he called me later on in the evening. Clearly I made more of an impression on him than I intended. I'm going to have to turn down the charm...

Anyway, I've met 6, but have been contact by countless others. Some of them have been intriguing, others have been eye-roll inducing and laughable. So without further ado, I introduce the inaugural class of Violet's Hall of Shame.

1. Mr. Troubleicious: The name alone may be worthy of induction, but with Mr. Troubleicious, it just keeps getting better. He sent me an email with the subject line: You're cute. Email message: But you're not THAT cute :P What are 2 things about your personality that make you fun to hang out with? Lots of pretty girls on here, personality counts!

As if he doesn't need to impress me. But wait, there's more. This is taken straight from his profile: YOU: I’m seeking a like-minded woman to share a disastrous 3-9 month relationship with, ending in acrimony, emotional chaos, and possibly legal proceedings. I am looking for an attractive female who will at first give me obsessive love, praise and devotion - but whose paranoia, self-loathing and fear of rejection and abandonment will eventually lead her to alternately push me away and pull me closer in a love/hate cycle that will lead to infidelity, consensual sexual violence, and the eventual emotional breakdown of one or other party - or if we’re lucky - both! :)
Only message me if you are SANE, NO PSYCHOTIC WOMEN, I will cultivate you from my social garden so fast its not worth it for you. I know what I want and am a extremly picky person.

I'm confused. Isn't he seeking emotional chaos? Won't psychosis help him achieve that? Congratulations, Mr. Troubleicious, here's a golden douche bag to commemorate your induction.

2. Red Lion: The entertainment factor can only go downhill from there, but Red Lion gives it the old college try. He writes: You intrigue me i think you might be more interesting than you limited profile leads me to believe. for instance ...you are a virgo. So am I. You enjoy travel, and i want to have friends/contacts in many different countries. i also love your hair ....ok thats enough for you to have a first impression of me. lets see if you respond and possibly we could continue this conversation.

You're right. You loving my hair really does give me a solid impression of you. What more do we need? A quick look at Red Lion's profile tells us that he's also in the search for "casual encounters," i.e. sex partners. And that's why he's a first ballot Hall of Shamer!

3. The Very Clearly Old Man: This one comes courtesy of my friend Penelope, who is a bit of a veteran. Tired of hearing from Dirty Old Men, she posted an age requirement on her profile. This is a response she received:
"who are you to tell some one about age? u need to get off this site worrying about age diffrence? if u wanna act like that you will be single young lady! age appropriate? you beeter go get a job and pay some bills before u go telling someone about age"

Snap! She got told!

If nothing else, this online dating endeavour is worth it for sheer entertainment value.

Fuckwittage confirmed: Part 2

Continued from "Fuckwittage Confirmed"...

Yes that’s right The Engineer emailed me!! (I deserved a call at the very least, right?) And no, he did not have a good excuse for ignoring me five days. This was indeed a simple straightforward case of fuckwittage!

After saying that he “thinks” he decided that we shouldn’t go out anymore, The Engineer’s email went on to say that he had fun the “couple” of times we went out but he didn’t feel that click. He also revealed that he had his heart broken a few months ago and said that he needed to get out and meet new people. (This was news to me.) He placated me by saying that I’m pretty, smart, and caring and he is probably the one losing out.

The Engineer’s email may have been appropriate (and even flattering) should I have received it after one or two dates but after you get to the point where you no longer know exactly how many dates you’ve been on, an email is clearly not acceptable. I do kind of agree with his point that we didn’t “click.” While we got along really well, what we had was more friend chemistry than romantic chemistry. Even now I feel kind of guilty saying this but I wasn’t as attracted to The Engineer as I thought I should be. I had fun with him and felt more comfortable with him than the other guys I’ve dated so I figured I would give it a chance…I thought maybe with time it could grow into something more. My dad is always telling me I’m too picky and I can’t expect life to be like a romantic comedy. I didn’t want to prove him right.

As for the rest of The Engineer’s email…I understand if he wants to get out and meet people after a bad break up but is a dating website really the place to look? Furthermore, this is the guy that told me that he wanted to see me more. His behavior prior to the cancelled date in no way implied that he wanted to be out there dating lots of people.

Despite my annoyance with The Engineer’s email, I must say that I felt an enormous sense of relief. Sure I was a little disappointed but it was liberating to know with complete certainty that it was really over and I could officially move on. Last week I was still kind of adjusting to not having The Engineer in my life. I had grown used to talking to him daily and I kind of missed him. If he had handled the break up appropriately and not acted like a complete fuckwit, I think I would have even suggested that we try to be friends. (I couldn't help but wonder after all that time if The Engineer was able to send his cowardly email and then move on without a second thought.)

I have not yet decided if I should email The Engineer back and call him out on his fuckwittage as a public service to our fellow singletons. What would Bridget do?

Why is this so f@*#ing hard?

The Dating Game. (And it is a game.) I don't get it. Why is it so difficult? Grayer doesn't know what's up with Hanging Out Guy, The Engineer pulled a disappearance on Scarlet, and the only guys I can get to call me back are the ones I'm not interested in. Seriously. We are attractive, intelligent women. This should be easy. Would it be easier if we were ugly and stupid? (Actually, it might be easier if we were MORE attractive and stupid.)

My 4-date week has yielded nothing. I thought things were looking up with The Cable Guy, and last Sunday night, I called him to see if he wanted to grab lunch that week, which I didn't think was too awkward considering we work so close to each other and we both eat. He was busy at the moment but he still 1.) answered the phone and 2.) said he would give me a call back later when he was free. That was a week ago. Still no call. Conclusion: Fuckwit.

John Boy is the total opposite. After our burger date, he said he would call tomorrow. Not only did he call tomorrow, but he called me at exactly 5:03pm, as soon as he got off work. He suggested lunch the next day, and I agreed. Yes, I had a fun time. Yes, I want to hang out with him again. However, the attraction still wasn't there just yet. And yes, he said he would call the next day, and he did. Over our lunch, though, he did let me know that he would be moving in July. So when he did call me back the next day, I let him know that while I really do enjoy hanging out with him, I couldn't start something that would be temporary at best. (I don't do long-distance. It's a rule I have.) He wasn't offended and did say that he still hopes to hang out with me, though he probably wouldn't pay for me anymore. I think I've got a new friend, which is never a bad thing.

As I told you on Friday, Halpert has some promise. He said he would call me "tomorrow." Tomorrow came and went and no phone call. I was about to put him in The Cable Guy's category when he called on Sunday. I know this could be a sign of things to come, but I'll take it with a grain of salt. While he didn't call on Saturday, he did call before the weekend was out. Plus, the guy hasn't met me yet, so I don't think I can really expect him to put me at the top of his priority list, can I? If he's as good as his word, we should be getting together for dinner next weekend. (Our schedules don't really mesh during the week.)

In the meantime, I have yet another coffee date tomorrow with another guy. I should really be keeping a tally sheet.

*************************** UPDATE ******************************************
Not long after he first called me, Halpert called again. His plans with friends fell through, and did I want to get a drink? I got ready in record time, as he was already in my neighborhood, and off we went. He dropped me off over three hours later. I'd say it went pretty well. He opened the car door for me and walked me to my front door when we got home. (Funny story: The first boy who opened a car door for me was The Heavy Breather, and I was so unaccustomed to it, I didn't know what he was doing and assumed he needed to get something out of the passenger seat. That kind of killed it.) Ah, southern boys.

Introducing the Men of Meetup

I’m probably overdue for an update on my meetup group. I’ve attended 4 meetups so far. The core group of people who have been around since the beginning of the meetup are all really cool. It is great to have something to do for once!

First an update on the two guys that emailed me after the first meetup. The first guy, lets call him McSlick, is part of the core group that started the meetup. McSlick is the fun cool guy…very friendly but I wonder if he might be a bit of a player. He emailed me within a couple of hours of the first meetup to say that he enjoyed meeting me and I should come again. A couple days later he emailed me again and asked if I wanted to go to a movie with some of the people I met. We didn’t end up going to the movie but I’ve seen him at a couple of events since then.

I’m pretty sure the other guy that emailed me after the first meetup was/is interested in me. He seemed really nice but a little boring. However, since then I discovered that he is 13 years older and has 2 kids. (I would have guessed he was only a little more than 5 years older than me.) I admit this makes me somewhat less interested but I haven’t ruled him out entirely. Hmm…I guess we’ll call him the “Old Man” for lack of a better name.

Last weekend we had an event and several new guys came. One of which looked kind of familiar but I couldn’t place him…lets call him the Jerk. He said the same thing to me earlier in the evening. However, as the evening went on, he and several of the other new guys got more and more drunk. At one point the Jerk told his friend I was in love with him and tried to get me to kiss his friend. Later the Jerk comes over to me and boldly declares that I have kissed him before. I of course told him that wasn’t possible. He said some crap like “I can’t believe you don’t remember!” and persisted until I gave up arguing with him and walked away. I know what you might be thinking but the list of guys I’ve kissed is embarrassingly short…I WOULD remember. If this wasn’t enough some of my friends told me that earlier in the evening the Jerk implied that he had slept with me. Complete Fuckwit!! Another one of the new guys hit on me but is was obvious he was just interested in sex.

Anyway, I’m feeling very optimistic about finding new friends but a little disappointed in men.

Nancy Reagan was on to something

We here at WWBD? are committed by putting an end to fuckwittage. Impossible, you say. While I admit that it is an uphill battle, I don't believe it to be impossible. How can we achieve this impossible dream? By saying no to fuckwittage every time it rears it's ugly head.

Of course, this will only work if women everywhere band together and Just Say No. Let me paint for you a picture of fuckwittage being allowed to happen. The scene: New Year's Eve, a Brooklyn bar, which just happens to have bocchi ball lanes, allowing for hours of fun. Sadly, the bocchi lanes have been dominated for quite some time by two complete and utter Fuckwitts. (and yes, that capital F was intentional.) Now I like to trash talk as much as the next guy, but these two jerkwads took it to another level. They made up their own rules, got nearly physical with anyone who dared question these imaginary rules, and even taunted two girls who dared walk on their bocchi lane (during a break in the action, mind you) that they "weren't pretty enough" to be invading their space.

So naturally, their best chance of scoring would be if they woke up next to each other, with a wicked hangover, shouting things like WTF JUST HAPPENED?!, right? Wrong. Sadly, wanker #1 was last seen around midnight, making out with a girl who clearly needs some therapy to work on her self-esteem issues, while douchebag #2 somehow managed to find a girl willing to flirt (badly) with him. I have no doubt he went home with her.

This is a problem. These two pricks are going to keep acting this way until someone holds them accountable. And since men of this age (or really any age) only think about the next time they will have sex, how they will have sex, and whom they will be having sex with, the best way to get them to stop behaving this way is to NOT HAVE SEX WITH THEM.

Sounds so simple, right? We, as women (or gay men) are also accountable. It's more than a bit hypocritical to whine about how there are no good men out there, and then go home with the next breathing male of our species. I don't care how hot they are (and these two twats would have been, had my vision not been clouded by their bad behavior), how desperate you are, or even if your ex is watching. JUST SAY NO.

Imaginary boyfriends:Fuckwittage at its finest

The imaginary boyfriend has struck again. And I haven't even seen him in 6 months!

Last spring I started seeing this guy. We worked together closely and he had just broken up with a long time girlfriend so we kept it very hush-hush. Actually no one really knows the depth of relationships. We had a chemistry that I've never had with anyone else. We found each other very funny, we talked for hours and hours, and we even thought a like (in an "Ok, this is weird sort of way"), he was constantly taking the words right out of my mouth. We hadn't known each other very long, but we knew each other so well. Basically it was perfect, although imaginary.

The underlying problem was always his ex-girlfriend, he still had to be friends with her and she called him all the time. For months he had been talking about the lack of their relationship, lack of chemistry, how she never listened to him, how she wouldn't even kiss him (and he was a damn good kisser, seriously, best ever). I never doubted that she was a great person but she wasn't the greatest person for him.

After about three months of bliss with me, he moved out west with friends. He thought he needed to be single for a while, and I couldn't have agreed more. I was a little heartbroken and until very very recently I don't think I was truly over him. (ok perhaps I'm not over him). I still had hopes of him coming back, and like any imaginary breakup, I of course wasn't mourning what was over, but mourning what could have been. But lately I hardly even think of him, even when I knew he was recently back in the state. Until a couple of hours ago when I heard news that brought up this strange hot anger boiling up inside me.

He's back with her. Her. I was prepared for awful blow when I would finally learn he was dating someone. But he's back with her. And I am infuriated. I don't even know what to say, I'm so angry. What a complete fuckwitting idiot. They're not even in the same state either. It's as if every single thought and feeling he shared with me was a lie. It's as if our relationship was just a little tryst, a little holiday away from a controlling girlfriend who won't even make out with him. Ahhh, I'm so pissed. And damnit, I want to tell him. I want him to explain to my face why they are back together, and then I want to remind him of why he left her in the first place. I know she doesn't know we had been together after they broke up. But I want to tell her. And I swear I'm not an angry ex, seeking revenge (but yes I am angry). More than anything else, I'm just so disappointed in him, he is selling himself way too short. Can't I just tell him that?

Introducing The Heavy Breather

A slight flashback to get us started...

I was on the rebound, and dating a guy that was more into me than I was into him. He was nice, definitely my type, but sadly, not as much my type as the commitment-phobe/fuckwit that had just crushed me, so I really wasn't that into him. We had gone out on a date, but still hadn't had any real mouth-to-mouth action when he invited me over for dinner. He actually cooked me dinner. Chicken, salad, wine, the works. So obviously we had to hit the couch for a post you've-just-cooked-dinner-for-me make-out session. And it was good. Except for one not-so-little thing.

His heavy breathing.

This may sound like an innocent make-out faux pas, but I assure you, it was not. It was a fairly innocent make-out session; there wasn't even groping involved for crying out loud, and here he was, panting like a porn star. I mean, the guy turned out to be an above average kisser, but I couldn't enjoy it because I was so completely freaked out. I just kept thinking un-sexy thoughts like "is there something going on for him that's not happening for me?" and "maybe he should hit the gym for a little extra cardio?" and "seriously, it's not like it's his first time, is it?" (it wasn't, he's a serial monogomist of the worst kind. More about that and his corresponding fuckwittage later.).

Because of the screaming awkwardness of the situation, I ended the lip-lock much sooner than I would have liked. I just couldn't enjoy it. But I believe in second chances, so later that evening, I gave him a second chance. And it happened AGAIN!

So I did what any sensible girl would do. I avoided any and all potential make-out sessions for two weeks. Harder than you think. This story has a happy ending, though. He must have taken up running in those two weeks, because after that, the unnecessary heavy breathing was replaced by the appropriate kind.

However, he will hereby be referred to as The Heavy Breather.

Dating Dictionary

In case you're wondering what on earth we're talking about sometimes...

Commitment phobe- n. Someone incapable of commitment. The thought of making plans beyond next weekend makes him or her break out into a cold sweat. Uses phrases like "going too fast" and "let's keep things casual." It is unlikely you will ever hear from him or her after the third date.
commitment phobic- n. Neurological disorder that turns a normally sensible person into a commitment phobe.

Friends with benefits- n. Boy who is a friend you wouldn't consider dating, but who you happen to know is an excellent kisser (hence the benefits). Benefits may end abruptly if boy acquires an actual girlfriend.

Fuckwit- n. One who commits fuckwittage.

Fuckwittage- n. First used in Bridget Jones' Diary, synonym for bad behavior displayed by men while dating. Includes, but is not limited to, disappearing, or other behavior intended to avoid actually breaking up with you, not calling, substituting actual conversations with e-mail/internet chat, breaking plans, inability to commit. Committed by fuckwits.
2. v. Playing with emotions by leading women on. Emotional fuckwittage.

Guapo Points- n. The number of points assigned to a man based on his hotness factor. Does not factor in personality traits. V. shallow.

Guapo Points Theory- n. Theory that suggests women only have a certain number of guapo points to use in a year, thereby limiting the amount of hottie action seen in any given year. History: Developed by Violet to explain dry spell that occurred after hook-up with man ranking very highly on the guapo points.

Imaginary boyfriend- n. Boy who hangs out with you a
lot, enjoys your company and making out with you, but
will not commit to the title of Boyfriend. Takes on
many 'boyfriend-like' responsibilties, calls you
frequently, yet disappoints you often. Not to be confused with "Friends with
Benefits." (Although benefits may sometimes be
included, they are not necessarily part of the
imaginary boyfriend package.)

Lesbi-friendship- n. A close friendship between two heterosexual women that is in no way a lesbian relationship, but deserves to be recognized as more than just an average friendship.

Lip molestation- v. Kissing which results in split lips, flaky skin, bruising, and the feeling that your lips are about to be pulled off during a make-out session. History: First used when Violet nearly had her lips chewed off by an over-eager South American.

Serial monogamist- n. Someone who simply cannot be single for any significant period of time, goes from one long-term relationship to another. Incapable of being a singleton.

Singleton- n. The opposite of a serial monogamist, someone who has a series of imaginary boyfriends, friends with benefits, and dates with fuckwits, commitment phobes, etc. Cannot seem to find her personal McDreamy. Unlucky in love. Prefers to call Valentine's Day Single's Awareness Day (SAD), as has spent more February 14ths single than in a relationship. Spends more time analyzing and dissecting relationships than actually having them. History: First recognized by Helen Fielding in Bridget Jones' Diary.

Smug Married- n. Person who is married and cannot understand how it is possible to be unmarried and happy at the same time. Usually tries to set up singleton friends with unsuitable bachelors.