The Contender

Well shoot. I may have actually made a good choice, whilst wasted. I’m writing it down because it definitely needs to be noted.

Miss Lovely and I were hanging out together, destroying our livers, when we met two great guys. Mr. NotCalifornia and his Pops. We laughed ourselves sick with them, then went to go somewhere else.

Which is when I realized that the moment of truth was upon me. I don’t go out. I will literally NEVER see him again unless I say something and if he hasn’t asked… do I really have the balls to do it myself?

Of course I did. I was knee deep in Kokanee and a dirty martini or two.

J- Sorry if this is forward,  but it was really nice to meet you and I’d like to see you again. What do you think about that?

Instant grin. Phew. He’s supposed to be playing pool, but stops and pulls his phone out.

C- I’d really like that.

Hey, hey, hey… look who hasn’t lost her touch. I have to say, it feels great to be hunted again. I don’t mind stepping up to the plate to swing the bat and ask for what I want but if you’re forever met with silence you have to love yourself enough to give up. Yes it stings, and hurts like hell, but you’re wasting your time and taking an active role in breaking your own heart. I’m complicit in how bad I’ve been feeling. I went and fell in love with a casual situation because I’m not one to be taken casually, but I also learned a powerful lesson about playing a game that I can’t win. No matter how different you think you are if you’ve shown him he can treat you as an incidental plaything, he’s going to. Even if you’ve been friends for a long time. You teach them how to treat you. I fail at that and am suffering the consequences.

So I texted Mr. NotC this afternoon… and he’s delivering baby farm animals on his farm.

Yeah. You read that right. I immediately sent Miss Lovely a screenshot.

L- We’re inviting ourselves over.

This is a whole new kind of transplant. He grew up in the city and wants to live his days out on a farm. One picture of my garden and he’s lighting my phone up. He sees the value in my character and not just my pretty face. That’s incredibly refreshing when I’m feeling so bad about myself.

Just as I suspected though… you have to leave the comfort of your own house to meet people.

Damn it.

It’s some small consolation that I’m still awfully good at it.

I got a million, trillion things that I’d rather fucking do.

Aahhhhh….. I always think sex is the best medicine,  but it’s not.

It’s desire. Love. Laughter

All I need to do is take my fine ass out for the night. This isn’t rocket science. My head hurts, my feet ache…

Guess what doesn’t hurt this morning?

My ego and my heart.

I forgot for a second how hard I’ve worked to be so fucking cool. I’m not bragging. I’ve put the time in and have earned the right to own it.

Miss Lovely and I took my new boobies out for the night last night and I feel a billion times better. I have a very hot date tomorrow night with a man who can hold his own with me. A contender, if you will. He’s a successful Californian transplant and he’s handsome. He likes Christmas lights and I love that I only know what he tells me himself because he’s doesn’t Facebook. He moved here with a realtor and his only request was not to see his neighbors. I love that so much. I’m going  to make him dinner and work very hard to resist being the most delicious homemade dessert he’s ever eaten.

I’ve gotten my feelings hurt on a whole new level this time because I finally had the balls to tell a man exactly what I loved and wanted from him, and it backfired. Big time.

I should be able to tell a man I want him, and have him show up to prove why I should.

Strong women scare weak men and it is not my fault he wasn’t brave enough to handle me. I will not reduce myself for a man. I wasted my thirties on that shit. More importantly, there are a million men waiting in the wings, dying for the chances I’ve been wasting on him.

I’m fiery mad. I’m offended, insulted and hot as a hornet, because I still want him. My phone is blowing up this morning with strange numbers and offers of dinner and drinks… but none from him. Sigh….I’ll get over it and it’ll pass, but it sucks when you’re walking through the thick of being heartsick and all the wrong men are begging for a chance. You think it’d be comforting… but it really ends up making you feel worse.

Someone hugged me in the bar last night and told me she loved my blog. I was a little mortified at the moment but after the week I’ve had, I couldn’t have appreciated the love, more. I have terrible, self-destructive taste in men but I have incredible taste in friends and the women in my life are the cream of the crop. I have wonderful places to spend time with people who really enrich my life.

I literally have a million, trillion things that I’d rather fucking do, than waste another second on someone lukewarm about me.