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.

My bed is my docking station.

“Damn, I feel so much more human today than I did yesterday. What the hell happened?”

“Well, you stayed in bed for 2 days straight and then took your ADD meds with coffee.”

I’m not recommending this as a life choice, but…I mean, I DO feel better…

“That’s what Christmas is all about, Charlie Brown.”

I just noticed that Guy I Dated for a Minute has RSVP’ed “yes” to a mutual friend’s holiday party I also said “yes” to.

Whatever, fuckface — I ain’t scared.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to spend the next 3 weeks getting pretty and practicing ignoring douchebags. Because that’s what Jesus would do.

(I’ve realized recently that whole thing messed me up more than it should have. But screw it, that’s what therapy’s for. Let’s dance, Psyche.)

Don’t even try it — Jesus knows you’re petty.

During Easter dinner conversation, my aunt said political protests are pointless because, “The election is over. These people just need to move on with their lives.”

Um, BITCH, you’re still salty about some shit my mother said about your potato salad in 1987, so you better hope the new healthcare plans cover legs to stand on.

Jag and the BeanSTALK

I was up late last night and received the following messages from a guy on OkCupid:

1:06 a.m.: “Hi how are you? What are you reading?​”

[BTW, everything I’m reading is listed in my profile. It’s one of the site’s fill-in-the-blank questions.]

1:06 a.m., followup: “I am reading Dante’s inferno and breaking Rockefeller.”

1:15 a.m.: “How was your 4th?

1:27 a.m.: “Writing anything good these days?​”

If he has a paid OKC account, I think he could see I’d been reading the messages. And OKC shows you when users are on the site, so he could see I was there. But damn, dude. How are you sitting there like, “I can’t get her to talk about books, so maybe she wants to talk about her holiday — that’s pretty scintillating. No? Hm. Maybe she’ll talk about her writing.”

I shouldn’t have blocked him. Maybe the FIFTH message 10 minutes later would’ve been The One.