On Closing The Door

Metaphorically speaking, I am officially closing the door on men. I've had the door open for awhile, and I've even gone so far as to keep peeking out periodically to see if anyone is coming. The problem with doing this is that you end up looking like a creeper, constantly looking for someone that isn't there. I must admit, it looks slightly desperate, to those who can decode the body language. So, after much internal debating, I have decided to close the door. I reluctantly closed it. It was hard to do, but I kept thinking back to the advice my Mom gave me: "Love will never come when you're looking for it. It only comes when you're not ready."

So, in keeping with this adage, I am going to cease all active pursuits of love. I would be lying if I said I was not looking at all. If we stick with this door metaphor, then my door has a window in it. It's a window with curtains that you can see vaguely through, if you press your face against it. From time to time, I will definitely have my face in that curtain.

I did do something the other day that is slightly embarrassing. This happened before I shut the door, so don't judge. As per usual, I went out drinking Friday night. This will never change, at least not for a while. I need the wind-down that it brings. Anyways, I was out with my sister and our friend Holly. We went to the pub first, and then wandered over to the seedier, but more populated (usually) bar. There weren't too many people there though, which was kind of a let down. Resigned to our fate, we grabbed a table and proceeded to people watch and gossip. The only other large group that was there consisted of a lot of younger people. At least two of the people, a girl and a guy, were under aged. The girl was a known rival of my sister (for the affections of a man, of course). We ended up ratting on the girl, who was asked to leave. It's my duty, I feel, as a teacher, to rat out underagers now. But I digress. I noticed this guy, who I have seen around before. I knew him to be the youngest of a rather notorious Tillsonburg family. He has a sister two years older than me, one the same age as me, and a brother the same age as my sister. He's two years younger than the brother. I won't say his age, since I get teased for this often, but if you know my sisters age, subtract two, and you've got him. I couldn't help staring, and I drunkenly tried to catch his eye. I'm not sure if this happened or not, because when you're drunk you judge situations wrong, but I felt like we connected a few times. It was the coy eye catching thing that happens now and again. I kept trying to broadcast the "approach me" vibe, but didn't really get anywhere with it.

We got bored of the bar, and decided to leave, around 2. When I got into my room, I went to turn off my computer, and then did the stupidest thing imaginable; I went onto Facebook. Not only did I log onto Facebook, I also searched for this young fellow, and proceeded to Poke him. I am ridiculously stupid for doing so. I could have come across as a HUGE creepo. I still may.

Anyways, this evening I get a message from Facebook. Instead of poking me back, the young man decided to message me. I debate not opening the message for a minute or two. I am afraid it will be something horrible like "Who the hell are you, and why are you poking me" or "You are old and disgusting, leave me alone".
Instead all it says is a simple "Hey whats up?"

Unsure of how to tackle the situation, I messaged my friend Rachelle, who lovingly laughed at me and told me to make small talk back. I knew this is what I had to do, but I needed the reassurance that it wasn't creepy to do so. So I shot off a "Not much, just having a laaazy Sunday".
I debated whether or not to add a "you?". Ultimately I decided against it, because then it seemed as if I wanted to continue the conversation. The way I left it, he can either let it go, or he can instigate some more conversation. Either way, it is all in his court, because I closed my part of the conversation. I thought it was rather clever, but then again what do I know? I am mentally handicapped when it comes to dealing with men (sober).

We'll wait it out, see what I get in return (if anything at all). Not that I care. The door is closed now. I will peek through the curtain though, to see if I get any mail.

Cheers.

On The State of Confusion

So lately I've really struggled with what is going on with my life. Obviously, professionally I know where I am going; at least I have deluded myself into thinking I know what's going on professionally. Maybe I really have no clue. Maybe I am fooling myself. I'd like to think I'm not, though. I believe in my potential. I believe that I am a good teacher, and therefore I deserve to teach. I think I have a lot of people on my side, who will do what it takes to get me a job in the near future. However, maybe I am placing too much trust in other peoples hands. This isn't to suggest that I am not taking control of my own future; I am doing all that I can to apply to teaching positions right now. I'm not doing nothing, on that front. However, I must admit that I am relying a lot of the help of the teachers in my school right now. They have a lot of confidence in me, and have voiced, on more than one occasion, their desire to help me get a job. They also state quite adamantly that I will be employed, because I am too good not to be. So I am basing a lot of my professional optimism in their comments. Hopefully I am not deluding myself.

But that's not what I intended to rant about today. I wanted to rant about how frustrating boys are. Again, I want to emphasize the fact that I used the word boys, and not men. I am seriously starting to doubt whether men actually exist. Where are all these elusive men? Are they already snagged up by women smarter than me? Is it seriously possible that there are NO men around these parts? I don't know what to believe...but in my personal experience it sure seems like there are no real men in the world. The boys around here are strong on the head game. I see it constantly; they sweet talk girls as if the sun rises and falls on them. They pull out all the stops in their pursuit...however, little do you know they're pulling out the stops on all other girl at the same time. I've had personal experience with this problem twice in the past week. WEEK! I kid you not. Now, mind you, none of the guys who were sweet talking me had a chance in HELL of scoring with me. I was turning them down every chance I got. However, that didn't stop them from pursuing me to the n'th degree. They tried HARD. I didn't think too much of it, until I started talking to my friend Christine, who informed me that both these fellows were hitting on her, quite aggressively. Shocked that they would be pulling the same moves on her, I told her what they'd been saying to me, and after comparing stories, we discovered that these guys were both trying to run their hardball game on us. Now, you should know that Christine and I had been out on the town three weekends in a row. Both of these guys saw us together. They know we are friends. So why, I have to wonder, would they think we wouldn't TELL each other about their aggressive attempts to pick us up?! These guys aren't friends, so I know they're not collaborating. That'd be weird. But they should both be smart enough to realize that girls talk to each other. We talk about guys, and their horrid attempts to get into our pants. I couldn't believe they would be so stupid as to think we wouldn't talk about getting hit on. When we tried to confront them on it, they each denied their involvement with the other girl. They tried to play the "cool friend" card, but to no avail. Neither Christine nor I are stupid enough to fall for that shit. Not that they had a chance in the first place. However, the fact remains that two guys, totally unbenounced to each other, tried to hit on the SAME two girls...and thought nothing of it. In fact, the one guy even has a girlfriend. What a joke. Boys like this are the reason I have so little faith in the male sex. They are absolutely pathetic.

Actually, what it really makes me think is that they have no respect for women. Clearly they are treating Christine and I as objects. They think if they sweet talk us enough we will sleep with them. Let's be honest, that's all guys want from girls, if they're running a game like that. It disgusts me. I am worth more than a few cheap words. So is Christine. Ugh. Boys make me feel sick to my stomach sometimes.

And then there is the whole "G" situation. I'd rather not go into detail on it, so long story (well not too long, really)short is that we hung out Friday night. I was pretty tired from school, and he was tired from work, so I ended up sleeping there. I didn't intend to at all, but it just kind of happened. Anyways, he was actually a really cute person to sleep with, because he is very cuddly. I mean, VERY cuddly. I've never been with someone who was so cuddly. I would move in the middle of the night, and he would always pull me in and hold me. It was kind of cute. In the morning he gave me a ride home, and said he'd talk to me later..."maybe tonight". However, when I got drunk Saturday night and text messaged him, I didn't get a response. I haven't heard from him since. Not that it's a long time to go without hearing from anyone...and not that we're very involved...I'm still slightly peeved. I'm not sure why, but I am. I find it weird how he can draw me back in, in one night...considering I was pretty detached from the situation a week ago. I'm not sure what it is, but he has this weird bad boy charm that kind of sucks me back in. I've got my guard up though, because I'm increasingly told that he's not as innocent as he seems, and that I should be careful. So I will be. I've got my eyes open. For right now though, I will take what comes, and just enjoy life as it is.

Cheers.

On My Ongoing Issues Of The Male Variety

Well, I was definitely on to something in my last post, when I discussed the possibility of putting the kibosh on hanging out with G. I haven't heard from him since my snarky "whatever" final text message response. In all fairness, I really don't care THAT much; the only thing that really bothers me is the abruptness of the end. While there wasn't anything to end, I still feel I warranted a "let's just be friends" talk. Or, failing that a "you repulse me, and here are my reasons why" talk. That way, I would have at least known exactly what was to blame. Although...I was thinking through the whole situation moments ago, and I came up with the theory that perhaps he thinks I am mad at him, and perhaps he is waiting for me to make the first move of apology, or whatever the first move would be called in this case. I'm at a loss. However, what it all boils down to is the fact that I am simply not interested in putting in the effort to make the first move, to ask what went wrong. I knew from the get-go that there was no long-lasting chemistry. If anything, I was willing to perhaps try a few weeks and see if something developed. However, my idea of trying does not involve any strenuous work on my part; he has to come to me. I rarely make more effort than the man at the start of any "relationship". That way, I never run the risk of coming off as "clingy", or any of the other horrible things girls get called when they are constantly bothering their new fling to spend time with them. While I may want to spend a lot of my time with a new guy, I always restrain myself and ensure that he's the one asking me for my time, and not the other way around. Tell me if I'm in the wrong, in taking this approach. I'd love to hear some other opinions on the matter.

I don't claim to be the be-all-end-all of relationships, or how to work them. In fact, I've got nothing but failed relationships under my belt. However, I'd like to think that the failures have made me wiser; I know not what to do through trial and error. Often, I find that I can give excellent advice to both my male and female friends, due to my extensive experience in failed relationships. I've had one major one, and a plethora of minor ones, and I've learnt something from every one.

But I digress.

What I wanted to say was that things with G ended before they began, and here I am, back at the beginning with nothing to show for it. It's immensely frustrating, because I've never felt better about myself, physically and mentally. I'm down to 130 lbs - having been at an all time high of 148 in December - and I am hard as a fucking rock. I even fit into my elusive skinny dress pants; the ones in which the zipper broke when I tried to wear them last placement. I feel fabulous about my body for the first time in ages.

I also think I've got sexy down pat, with the addition of my extensions. I honestly feel like a whole other woman when I put them in. They give me so much more confidence, because they finally allow me to look the way I want to look. I go out on the town, and I exude confidence like it's an expensive perfume.

And yet...

...I fail to attract the attention of any males. Or rather, I fail to attract the attention of the males I want to attract. For example, I've recently seen "P" out on the town, and while I had spurned his lame MSN attempts to get with me in the past (labelling him as a perverted creep), I find myself kind of attracted to him. I'm not sure if it was my years away from this town, but I sure do find him much more sexy than I recalled him being. Maybe it's the fact that he looks like a man now, and not a little boy. Maybe it's because in high school I always considered him short...only to realize that he was only short in relation to Adam, who happened to be 6'4". Turns out, upon closer inspection, P is actually taller than me. He's likely of average male height. Hmm. I find his quite sexy. Anyways. I've seen him out a few times, and have always lost all confidence, and failed to approach him. He strikes me as a tad shy as well, so nothing has gone on there. I even drunk MSN'd him, one night. That resulted in my getting his cell phone number. However, as we should all be aware, that does nothing for me, since I am clearly of the belief that the man must make the first move. What's a girl to do? Break her own rules? I'm not sure I am ready to do that. Maybe in a few weeks I will.

Here's another interesting tidbit; a male opinion on my predicament.

I was talking to my friend Dave the other day, and he told me that I am being far too picky. He asked me if I was attracted to any of the single males that I knew in town. Unsure of what he was asking, I told him that, for the most part I was not attracted to any of the single guys I knew. He replied by saying that he felt sorry for me. Perplexed, I asked him what he meant.
"Well, I know a ton of single guys that would die to have a chance with you. They would make you very happy...but you're not willing to see these guys for who they are, because you're too picky. What are you looking for?"
I was floored by his response. I will admit to being picky, sure, but to be totally oblivious to the fact that "tons" of single guys that I knew had serious crushes on me...well that was news to me. However, as I started to think about it, I realized what he was implying.
"Are you implying that guys that I am friends with would kill for a chance to date me?" I asked him.
"Well, the best relationships come from friendships," he replied.
Ugh. Not that chestnut again. If I've learnt anything from life in general, it's that you never date friends. Ever. I don't care what anyone says, it is a huge mistake. If the idea of fate is right, and we are only meant to meet one person in our lives, if we date our friends, chances are they will NOT be that one person. As such, you will undoubtedly break up, putting strain on the friendship that used to exist, as well as all the friendships around you. It's a horribly messy situation, and one that I will never involve myself in.
I tried to raise this point with Dave, but he seemed fairly unwilling to accept my stance. I think he increasingly sees me for what I am; a vain, picky, and yet horribly insecure young woman, who truly has no idea what she really wants.

I know vaguely what I want; I want companionship, and someone to tell me nice things, hold my hand, rub my back, and give me hugs and kisses until I fall asleep at night. I want all the icky disgusting sappy shit, but at the same time I want my space. I want a guy who is nice, but has his asshole moments; tension can be kind of exciting, now and again. If he was too nice, it would get boring and stale. He needs to keep me on my feet, just like I need to keep him on his. I want someone who is athletic, and has a sexy body; I am working on mine, so the least he can do is work on his. Nothing hardcore, but lean is always good. I want a man who has a career, not a job. Again, whatever I can offer, I want given back to me. I don't think I am asking too much, but clearly it is too much for this town to handle. I doubt I can find someone who can fill those qualities in this small town. Maybe the problem is that I need to escape it. I'm not entirely sure how possible that is though...

...but anyways. It's getting late (for me). I'm off to bed now. I realize that this post didn't have much direction - it really was a rambling of my thoughts - so I apologize for that. I'll attempt to be more coherent in the future.

Cheers.

On Filling You In On The Goings On

I noticed the other day that it had been awhile since I had written anything here, and I felt the need to provide an update. My intentions are to make it brief, but often I find that I am quite wordy, and can ramble on unnecessarily. It's a bad habit that I have, but one that I won't soon be losing.

So, where to begin? I suppose I should fill you in on the whole Ryan situation. As it turns out, he's a bit of a douche bag (go figure). I suppose the age thing is to blame, since I doubt he has the maturity levels necessary to really understand half of the shit that he does. Not a good excuse, but an excuse nonetheless. Anyways, a few Friday nights ago, I was out as per usual, having some bevy's. I got slightly intoxicated, and decided it would be a good idea to send him a text message. So I send one off, asking him if he plans on showing his face at the bar tonight. I get a reply asking who I am, and then saying that he's in London for the night. I text back saying my name, and instantly my cell phone starts to ring. Call display informs me that it is him. I eagerly answer, only to be shocked to find an angry girls voice asking me who I am, and how I know Ryan. I panic, and in my drunken state I mumble something about calling the wrong number, and I hang up on her. She tries to call back a few times, but I don't answer. I feel absolutely mortified, like such a big fat loser. He's with a girl! It was obvious to me that she was younger, because if some girl texted my guy, asking a rather innocent question like I did, I would not freak out and call the person back. Kind of childish, if you ask me. And taking such an accusatory tone? Not adult. Anyways, I sulked to myself for awhile, cursing myself for doing that. It had taken a lot of nerve for me to text his phone, and it had turned out horribly.

As I was sitting there, stewing in my own emotional turmoil, I heard someone say my name. I look over, and see this guy "G", who had gone to my high school. We had chatted briefly a few times since I had been back, and he had tried to take me on a date the week before, but I had kind of blown him off; I wasn't really feeling it. Suddenly I felt like I needed the attention, to prove to myself that I wasn't a total tool. So I put on my best game face, and we flirted it up. Turns out he wasn't drinking, and so at the end of the night he offered to drive me home. I was shit-canned, so I agreed. However, he didn't stop at my house, instead he kept driving.
"Where are we going?!" I ask him.
"Macs...I'm gonna get you some Gatorade...sober you up a bit," he says.
So we grab some Gatorade, then head back to my house. My parents are gone for the weekend, in Niagara Falls, otherwise I wouldn't have invited him in.
So we go in, and I quickly down the drink, thirsty for anything non-alcoholic. We put in Fight Club, and I marvel over how hot Brad Pitt and Ed Norton are. After awhile, he finally tries to kiss me, and I'm all for it. Mission accomplished, I do not suck. Drunken me tries to persuade him to stay the night, but thankfully he does not. In the morning I was glad he had turned me down; that wouldn't have gone over well with the siblings.

I had a buck and doe the following night, which ended up at the bar as well. G was there again, and this time drinking. Again we got our flirt on, and were that disgusting pair that is all hands and lap sitting. I am ashamed to admit it sober, but when I'm drunk I do stuff sober me wouldn't dream of doing. It's unfortunate, but it happens to the best of us.

Anyways, we hung out a few times this week, and I kind of have a crush on him. Not entirely sure where it's going though. He is really not my type at all; he is very rough around the edges. He works in construction, so he has a hot body. However, he smokes, drinks, and does pot more than I like...again, it's more of a side-effect of what he does, more than anything else. He's also a bit crass...very rough when he talks. Not the most intellectual guy, but by no means stupid. He's smart in his own right. He's also very athletic, which I find irresistible. Very hot body. Nice hair. Sexy raspy voice. He's got his perks.

Last night though, I think I may have put a kibosh on things. I was drunken texting him, and got a little bit snarky when he didn't come out, and then refused to come get me. In hindsight, I can understand his refusal, since he had to work today...however drunken me was being kind of stupid, as is often the case. Oh well. If I fucked it up, then it wasn't meant to pan out. I didn't see it going far anyways, but it was nice to have someone around.

Oh well, plenty of fish in the sea, and all that crap n' junk.

Tonight is another Bx 93 Dance. Hopefully my ex won't be at this one to cause more drama. That's really the last thing I want to deal with right now. So not in the mood for it.

Anyways, I have to go straighten my hair, and put in my extensions. My friend Christine should be here soon.

Cheers!