OK, for starters, I just saw a Starware ad for an incredible deal on airfare from New York JFK Airport to Newark, NJ, starting at only $216.
This can't be more than 30 miles. It's admittedly terrible traffic but then the security lines are terrible as well.
I'm starting to become a complete misanthrope. With two or five dogs in hand, I wish the Breeders would NOT congregate the strollers at street corners or give me dirty looks for doing what I'm doing. I wish someone would ban razor bikes on sidewalks or make a six-foot rule so that the supervisor could halt the little daredevils before they scare dogs.
On the other side of it, I wish humans coming into the dog run would learn to shush the loose dogs away from gate before letting their dog in. I wish they wouldn't bring squeaky toys in. I wish they'd pick up their dog's poop. Trust me, if I can do it with five Labs in the rain, they can pick up Bowser's pile.
I had a little trip to the Black Place yesterday. I was out in the blue cool morning among the geraniums and petunias when it came to me that I had not, in 60 hours, ever considered that my thrumming mantra of what did I do wrong? what can I say to make it better might be a lot simpler.
He's a bastard.
You know that old co-dependent's recovery adage: When a woman says she'll call, she means by the end of the day. When a man says he'll call, he means before he DIES?
This is, apparently, the Number One Dating Peeve of all time.
Unless I'm insane, in the instances I'm thinking of I was as smart, funny & cute as required -- & all those things enough to like myself for a couple of days; in the other I was as smart, subtle & sexy as required. Neither instance would have happened had not the men in question asked me. I didn't do anything wrong. They did.
I let one of them know I felt shitty for three klonopin-heavy nights in a row. It's possible this message could have been simpler as well.
I don't think I get tons of traffic here but I'm quite sure I'm findable -- & possibly found. It's a very strange thing to essentially have no personal life. So to all the cell phone chatting moms, dog owners & nannies who aren't paying attention to the scowling woman behind three big dogs & to the men who might read this: stop pissing me off.
You could razor bike to Newark in two hours, I'll bet.
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3 comments:
Girl, I have been there so many times. So many times. Countless times. Date goes well. You connect. You think, hmmm, this could be something, and then no fucking call. Sucks! Sucks! Sucks!
I still have not figured out why this happens or where they go -- perhaps with the missing sock.
Hang in there. Don't fucking date right now. It sucks and you don't.
Give it 90 days - no dating. A moratorium, if you will.
You are so fragile right now. I know distraction is my default setting and I imagine it is for you as well, since we are almost carbon copies of each other.
Fragile things break if not handled with care. Adore yourself today as I adore you.
You are adorable!
Frances, I just love your writing. I can't wait for the next book. But ignore that if it makes you feel pressured. ;-)
I just googled "why doesn't he call." Try it and perhaps your mind will be put somewhat to rest. Either way, I'll share a line that floated down to me on an agitated speedwalk the other night, after enduring a week of disappointments with men: "Don't ever let a man lay you low."
I walk around telling myself, "I'm a beautiful, lovable, feminine, sexy woman," until I believe it.
Best to you, Frances, and please don't ever stop doing what you do. You're just great.
You know that my email tag line is "Sometimes men are just stupid" and it explains so much. The Boyz wanted something different and hurt you in the process, so the hell with them. Do things that make you happy today and give yourself a cushion of time and space from thinking about them. They're not worth it.
Love you lots!
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