At the very least, the palate of my vagina is cleansed.

I accidentally saw something fucking AWFUL in Facebook’s “trending” news sidebar, and felt pretty close to either crying or throwing up at my desk.

I took a few minutes to breathe, then went online in pursuit of a palate cleanser. I put #Scandal on Netflix out of habit, just for background noise to finish out the workday, but didn’t realize which episode I’d left off at.

Y’all? Never underestimate the healing power of Marcus and Mellie bangin’ on a desk. 

(The other thing will likely still roam the halls of my brain for a couple days, but #MellieBelly does help.)

 

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The rare and elusive Stage 6 clinger.

In 2013 after my breakup, I had a Year of Poor Life Choices. I dated before I was ready, tried to get over my ex, tried to get over the OTHER guy I’d developed a crush on. It turned into a few “relationships” that crashed and burned fairly spectacularly.

One was a friend of my sister’s, and I’m not proud of this, but I ghosted on him. We went on three dates before I realized we had NOTHING in common*, and I TRIED to be an adult and tell him I wasn’t ready to be dating. He asked if we could be friends and I said “sure,” because that’s what you SAY, but you both know you’re not going to be friends — or at least *I* knew.

Eventually I blocked his number and deleted him from Facebook because I am a coward. That was probably the summer of 2014.

THIS MORNING I got a Facebook message from him: “Hey Smug, tour name popped up on my phone so figured I’d say hi….Helloooo. How’s life treating you?”

It’s probably true he saw my name somehow since we still have mutual Facebook friends. But, like… Is there a Clinger beyond Stage 5?**

* When I say “nothing in common,” I mean I went to his Facebook page and he’s now an “all lives matter,” flag-fapping Trumpublican, and I am…NOT those things.

** I feel bad, he’s a “nice guy,” but…no. You are a reminder of a terrible time in my life. That’s not your fault, but it does mean you can’t exist in my world.

Fuzzy Wuzzy was unaware

A Facebook friend posted about how silly she was for being eager to get her period when she was around 11, and her male friend said, “Yeah, for men it’s shaving — when we were kids, we couldn’t wait to grow facial hair, but it’s such a hassle.”

Oh. Oh, honey…

*clasps hands*

Putting aside the non-visible symptoms of menstruation — bloating, cramps, irritability, etc…

What, pray, happens if you don’t shave for a week? You get fuzzier, no? Perhaps you get a little squirrely, maybe you need a trim?

But I’m gonna GUESS that if you just ignore that “hassle” for a week, and take no action whatsoever, you can probably still be seen in public.

Lemme just TRY to ignore my period for a week, to take no action, and go to work. Or on a date. Grocery shopping. The gym. Does that sound like a LITTLE more of a “hassle?”

Your wanton erections are probably a closer comparison. Or maybe if once a week your dick just leaked ejaculate for 5-10 days straight? Or, you know, if it just…bled?

Run along, sir. You’re needed at the Faulty Metaphor Factory.

Disabling enabling

I ran into a former coworker the other day and added him on Facebook, so I guess now Facebook is all, “Hey, we recognize that professional circle! Might you also want to be friends with That Guy?”

No, Facebook. I’ve told you that before. Twice, I believe. But thanks, I felt like feeling weird today. (I have no idea what the feeling is. Not angry, just…weird. Nothing will come of analyzing that NOW, though, so there’s no point — just don’t tell my therapist I said that.)

“You got a WHAT? How long ya had that problem?”

Update on Dude I’d Been Dating: He texted me Sunday to give me back his phone number, and has texted here and there since with everyday minutia, stuff so mundane I feel like he’s just worried I’ll be mad if he doesn’t say SOMETHING.

He re-added me on Facebook (he’s on my “family” filter now, though, so all he sees are sunset photos and dog videos), but not on Instagram, and we were never connected on Twitter.

So I guess we’re friends, with nudity TBD, but I think I’m OK with friends, at least for now. I’m glad we’re talking because that means he didn’t just fuck me and bail. But now I know he can and will just shut down on me, and maybe he’s only talking to me because sex is possible, so I need to get those thoughts in order.

We don’t have plans to see each other, and I’m damn sure not bringing it up, so it won’t be a real issue until he does. (He’s away on a family trip right now.)

In the meantime, I have TWO OkCupid Potentials to write back, so “I’m not waitin’, because I’m no waiter, so when I blow up, don’t try to kick it to me later.”

(^ I…I am so sorry, you guys…)

This could be the beginning of a beautiful fuck-friendship.

This amuses me more than it should…

Dude wrote me back within 24 hours this time, accepting my offer of “naked or otherwise” friendship, because duh. (“We’ll have to have a discussion next time we hang out.” Mm hmm, ‘kay…)

But because I’d deleted him from Facebook, my phone displayed his message once, then sent it to some “other messages” Facebook purgatory that, as far as I know, I can only access on a computer, and…fuck it, I’ve had a long week, and starting up a laptop AND a browser feels like a lot of effort for a dude tryna tell me I’m clingy.

Talk Monday, shitheel.

^^^ This should all end well, right…?