Schrodinger’s Awkward

I’ve been invited to another gathering (New Year’s Day) where I may or may not run into Guy I Dated for a Minute.

This is, like…Schrodinger’s Awkward.

I wrote a quick email essentially saying, “We cool?” It’s probably unnecessary — I’d like to think we’re both adults and could exist in the same room for a few hours. But…fuck it, I am a child, and I need to know. I’m terrible at uncertainty.

EDIT: He replied, said we were “definitely friends” and that he wouldn’t be at the New Year’s party. *nod* Cool. Done and done.

At least I don’t have to hate him. Well, not MUCH.

Of course. I’d finally shaken the pheasants out of my brain, taken a shower, sang along with some songs about hating men. Feeling OK, and… saw the message he’d sent this morning on Facebook:

“You’re a great person, but it seems like we’re looking for different things right now. I had a great time and wish you well too. As far as I’m concerned there’s no reason to avoid each other in the future, but I will respect your message and also keep an eye on guests lists [at mutual friends’ parties].”

It’d gotten tangled in the “fuckfaces you deleted/unknown messenger matrix, but was still sent this morning, meaning he just let me dangle last night.

Aaand because I will never learn, my reply:

“I feel like you’re saying the thing you’re supposed to say, but if it’s true, I’d like to know what you think I want that you don’t. Either way, I’m glad you said something. I had, perhaps mistakenly, thought we were at least KINDA friends, so I hated thinking you’d just bailed. That was really the only reason I had any issue seeing you in the future.”

If this conversation ends up dragging on all day, I’ll just recap it later. But I really am glad he said something. It means my instincts weren’t SO bad. And that I don’t have to hate him…much.

We’re both too awkward for sexual harassment.

My (male, straight) boss just emailed me with the subject line “available?” and asked me to do a work thing.

I replied and said I’d do it, and then he wrote back, “I also just realized that my subject line could get me in some HR trouble… ha… I’ll be more specific next time.”

Oh. It actually didn’t even cross my mind that my married, just-had-a-baby boss might be soliciting me for…whatever, until you pointed that out, but…well, NOW I’m uncomfortable.

I mean, aside from the “married, just-had-a-baby, boss” bit, I totally would, but all things considered, I’m incapable of perceiving anything you do as flirtation. Obviously don’t grab my ass or anything, but as far as hitting on me, you’d have to be pretty explicit for me to pick up on it. I can’t tell when eligible dudes are flirting with me.

Plus he has like five kids, so his sperm are far too industrious to be allowed anywhere NEAR my bits.

My inner goddess is still super awkward.

I just registered for an Intro to Burlesque dance class, because clearly I don’t feel awkward ENOUGH on the daily, I have to pay to be reminded I lack sex appeal.

Selecting the proper workout ensemble has never quite felt this important. I wonder what the odds are I could configure a bra under here. (Yeah, I know — slim to none.)


The Timeshare Dick seminar would be interesting, but not my scene.

For the record, I would NEVER hit on the married guy I work with. I don’t even flirt with him. I have zero interest in timeshare dick.

That said, I’m pretty sure he still knows I want to bang him. I can’t stop my face from flushing, and I tend to lose English and get a little flustered when there’s no blood in my brain.*

I’l get over it eventually, but for now, UNF.

* Upon further reflection, he might just think I’m an idiot who gets hot flashes. So that’s a bonus.

Hi. No, I really mean that. Hi.

For someone who’s so into words, you’d think I’d be less anxious about merely introducing myself to some dude on a dating site.

I have no line. It’s like, “Hi. I’m saying hi.”

This is what I get for mocking guys with prosaic intro messages. Because really, every “hi” is just short for “Hello. I share your affinity for burritos, and I would like our genitals to become acquainted in the not-too-distant future.”

I’m not UNattractive, but I’m not, like, autopilot hot — I’m not one of those absurdly gorgeous women who can just say “hi” and have a guy fall at her feet. I’m like Tina Fey hot — I’m cute and I have good hips, but I still have to rely on my wit. Except I can’t FIND my wit, because I am so tremendously awkward.

*deep breath*

It’s cool. It’s like any other piece of writing: just keep drafting, saving, revising, until I end up with something that doesn’t make me feel like a talentless hack. (Except in this case, my photo is with it, and my personality in the form of my profile, so if he doesn’t respond, I will also feel hideous and boring. So that should be fun…)

Victoria’s Awkward Secret

I broke up with the last guy I “dated” shortly after Christmas. We broke up over the phone after a few weeks of not seeing each other. But I didn’t realize he’d bought me a gift, even though I’d told him not to. So he’d been texting me intermittently since then trying to arrange a time to give it to me, but the timing never worked out. I tried telling him to keep it, but he kept saying it wasn’t anything big and he wanted me to have it.

I stayed at a friend’s house this weekend, and got a text from the guy this morning asking if I was home. I said I wasn’t, and he said, “I was working in the neighborhood, so I left your Christmas gift outside your door.”

Ahem… “If it’s a severed head, I’m going to be very upset.”

I got home to find a gift bag with two cute little thoughtful things that, yes, were me-specific, and I could see where he just wanted them out of his house.

But then there was the gift card to Victoria’s Secret. Ummm…you probably could’ve kept that, sir. Much appreciated, really, but you do realize that if I use this to buy some lacy little thing, that’ll probably only benefit the NEXT guy, right? The “answering my door in lingerie” promotion is for current customers only.

Because I’m a weirdo, though, I’m using your money to buy a new sports bra. So I will think of you whenever I run and my breasts are neatly contained. (I’m a freak, and whatever I buy, I will always think, “He bought this for me.” So I can’t buy anything racy — it just feels weird.)

To be clear, I do feel like a dick about this whole situation, and I do appreciate him thinking of me. But you have to admit, the gift card was awkward.

“Then I wonder why she sleeps with my friends…”

Want to hear something terrible and awkward? Pssh, of course you do, you follow my page!

I wanted to have SO much sex with one of New Lad’s friends. I met him at a barbecue we went to. He was tall, with solid arm muscles and a very vague British accent. UNF.

Obviously nothing will ever come of it, least of all me. I’m not a complete asshole — they’re good friends. He was hot, though. Not AS hot as other guys I’ve seen recently…but hot.