This morning I was making myself a PB & J sandwich and thinking about my life, and I came to the conclusion that I am a very bitter young woman.
Dun dun dunnnn.
Don’t worry–I’m not trying to blow your hump day (hehe blow your hump day). I realize we all have two more days of the workweek to look forward to after this; I’m not tryin to bring anyone down. But I’ve had a few experiences lately that have shown me that it has grown to the point now where I think I’m being funny–but I’m actually being bitter. And this makes great blog fodder, so I’m going to share with you guys just a couple scenarios from my recent life that have brought to my attention my level of bitterness (and we can laugh together).
Scenario 1: Whilst at an art show this weekend with some of my good girl friends, I chanced upon two interesting young men. One was this dude who I sorta used to go out with but it fizzled and the other was some dude who I smiled at while I was cramming my face full of free sandwiches and chicken-fil-a chicken nuggets.
So the dude I used to see, I said hi to him and everything, and in my mind I felt like he didn’t greet me warmly enough (even though he was his same old jokey/flirty self), and so I resolved to avoid him the rest of the night while stalking him out the corner of my eye.
And I did do just that, so well that one of my girl friends noticed the shadow that crossed my face when I saw him talking to another girl out of my periphery and asked me about it.
To prove to everyone in life (namely my friend, the dude and myself) that I’m NOT bitter I resolved that I would interrupt his conversation with that young lady and compliment her shoes.
Still stalking them out of my periphery, I waited, plotting for the perfect moment to shoot my non-bitter compliment right through his heart, piercing it through so all his love for me could run out.
I chose the end of the night as my moment to strike. In my mind, it would be perfectly diabolical–punctuating my already-flippant goodbye with a compliment to the girl’s shoes would say, nay SHOUT, “I’M NOT BITTER AND I DON’T CARE THAT YOU SPENT THE WHOLE NIGHT TALKING TO THAT GIRL!”
….of course, when I actually did go to say goodbye, he kind of brushed it off like “Yeah bye” and I really couldn’t even see the girl’s shoes because she was, like, standing behind something, but I still was determined to compliment this damn girl’s damn shoes and so I did but I think it just came across as kind of odd, so overall I don’t think that had the effect I was going for.
The other young man at the art show who was kind of interesting is the dude I met while stuffing my face. And I honestly don’t even know why he talked to me for so long–I have this defense mechanism that flies up whenever I talk to any dude I find even remotely interesting wherein I say a series of things that are either rude, weird, rude in a weird way, weird in a rude way, or downright hostile.
Sexy, I know.
Like, one of my girl friends said she overheard me saying something to him along the lines of “That’s not rude, I just met you!!”
That probably wouldn’t be worth commenting on if it weren’t something I find myself saying constantly to dudes as I meet them, text them, and eventually wonder why they’re no longer texting me.
It doesn’t really matter, because I’m single by choice anyway, and I’m really enjoying life as just me, you know? Seeing what I do and say and think when I’m not doing and talking/thinking about some dude.
…but it has occurred to me that at this point, if it weren’t my choice to be single…I’d probably still be single.
I don’t know–here’s hoping that bitterness thing will fade with enough time and blogging. As the second interesting young man from the art show said, “Wow you’re pretty and interesting–I can’t believe you’re single.”
…and all I could do was laugh it off and shrug.
- Dater X: Can Single Peeps And Those In Relationships Just Get Along? (thefrisky.com)
- The Two-Step Monogamy Shuffle Becomes the Relationship-Omission Tango [Etiquette] (gawker.com)
- Book Review: Dude: The Book of Crazy Immature Stuff by Mickey and Cheryl Gill (blogcritics.org)