Thursday, December 21, 2006

Now Playing: Pissed Off For Christmas

It's the holiday season and I'm irritated.

Not the usual irritability that comes from being surrounded by Happy Happy Joy Joy people who will turn into their usual ogres come December 26th. I'm irritated for a completely different reason.

Those that know me know I like women. Heck, those that don't know me and only read this blog probably know that I like women. It's true: I like women. I like dating women. I like going out and being around women. And I enjoy being around Foxy Women.

The Cho noted in Portafilter.net Podcast #55: . "I've seen some of the women you hang with and they're always very attractive."

Ah, vindication.

But I digress...

So, I date. A lot. As much as I can. Not because I'm a "playa" or I'm "bad like that." But rather because I don't have anything else to do in my off time so I meet, hang out and date women. Sometimes it's a noble pursuit. Sometimes it isn't. Whatever it is: it is what it is. But after doing it for so long sometimes you think that you'd like to try something else. Something that other people have been doing. Like dating someone. Seriously. Exclusively. Mano a mano. What was once a horrific thought not too long ago - suddenly, the notion of having someone to spend the holidays with sounds appealing.

Perhaps I need a doctor.

But wait, maybe it is getting tiring playing around. Maybe it would be nice to focus on one person and have that focus returned on you. Sad thing is I can't imagine what that's like since I've never been party to something like that. Maybe it's time to change.

With that in mind, I penned a note to a girl I've known for nearly three years. She's cool. She's hip. She's fashionable. She's driven. She's motivated. Most guys find a driven, independent, motivated and focused woman intimidating - I find it exciting. By now, I know her pretty well. Know what she likes, what she dislikes, what troubles her, what inspires her, her hopes, her dreams, her incredibly odd disdain for seafood, her uncontrollable need to shop - I'm down, I dig it, I accept her for how she is, what she wants to be and I want to be there encouraging and supporting her in her efforts.

So what did the note say? In a nutshell, I said that I was tired of games. Tired of bullshit. Tired of pretending. Tired of posturing. I want something more. To know each other better. To spend more time. Nothing heavy like marriage, just being Real. I thought it was honest and heartfelt, and real. I sent it on December 5th.

To be honest, there's a part of me that expects rejection. That dark side of the psyche that always tells you that you're not good enough. If that was the case and I ended up in the "Friend Zone" then I would have been hurt, disappointed and sad.

But that's not what happened.

And this isn't a Happy Happy Joy Joy story.

Nothing. That's what happened. Not a damn thing. I've been completely ignored. Blown off. Might as well have been told to "Fuck Off." In nearly twenty days, I haven't heard from her once. Oh yes, I know she got the note because she would have called out of sheer routine by now. I thought the worst possible outcome would have been told that she didn't feel that way about me.

But this is completely different.

This shows a complete lack of respect for me and whatever relationship we supposedly had these past three years. It's a slap in the face. I thought I might have been sad and hurt, but it turns out that now I'm mad. Pissed off, to be accurate.

Way fucking pissed off, actually.

And a bit disappointed too. I thought she was a better person than this. I thought she had character along with her conviction. I thought she had substance. But I was wrong.

So that's it. Game Over. Kaput. Tapos. Finis. Time to hit the Reset Button and return to our regularly scheduled programming. Can't waste time crying over spilled milk. Time to get back in the game.

But don't worry about me, gentle reader.

I've got a date lined up for next week!


Ciao Baby, Ciao.