An apple a day

Earlier this week, I got one of those mass text forwards that we've all come to love/hate. I usually curse the friends who send me those things because I'm superstitious that I will, indeed, lose an arm or never find love or whatever horrible thing they tell you will happen if you break the chain.

But in this case, I couldn't curse the friend who sent it because, well, it was from someone whose number I didn't have in my phone. (Sidebar: I did lose a bunch of numbers earlier this year during Blackberrygate '09, so I'm assuming I do know the sender. Unlike when I got this text.)

Anyhow, the message was just what this girl needed after a crappy day at work (and a crappy year in dating). Here's what it said:

Women are like the apples on trees. The best ones are at the top of the tree. The boys don't want to reach for the good ones, because they are afraid of falling and getting hurt. Instead they get the rotten apples from the ground that aren't as good, but easy. So the apples at the top think something is wrong with them when in reality they are amazing! They have to wait for the right guy to come along. The one who is brave enough to climb to the top of the tree!

The text then went on to tell me to forward it to 10 phenomenal women in my address book. But I figured I'd one up by posting it here instead. (Man, I hope more than 10 of you stop by today!)

So, if you're still single, never fear. The harvest is coming!

And if you're taken, congrats on finding your Johnny Appleseed.

And to whoever the anonymous sender of that text was in the first place... thank you. Thankyouthankyouthankyou. You're a really good apple. :)

Not-so-great textpectations

What is up with creepy text stalkers? My friend at work received two very odd, very panic-inducing text messages yesterday. The sender of said messages was "1234" (not a real phone number).

Here's what they said:

• HELLO..... (received at 1:57 p.m.)


• [friend's name] (received at 1:58 p.m.)

My friend (who shall remain nameless here so at least I can't feel culpable if someone does end up hunting her down and chopping her into pieces) responded to the messages with, "I'm sorry, but who is this?" She then got a bounce-back that said, "The recipient you are sending to has chosen not to receive messages."

WTH?!?!?

This little scenario reminded me of my incident with The Creepy Texter last November.

(To this day, I have never worn that blouse... er, shirt... again.)

I mean, who does this?!?! (And, more importantly, can he/she show me how to do it so I can cyberstalk hotties myself?!?! Ha!)

Has this ever happened to any of you guys? Or do my colleague and I just have the propensity to attract creepy dudes?

(Wait, on second thought... don't answer that...)

From the guy who can't forget me (Grammar Guy)...

... to the guy who doesn't even REMEMBER me (Amnesia Guy).

A few weeks ago, I got a Facebook friend request from a guy I briefly hung out with a couple of years ago. He and I had met at the Winking Lizard in Lakewood while we were both there watching a Cavs game.

That nite, he gave up his bar stool for me, we chatted all nite and then exchanged numbers (and a kiss) at the nite's end.

In the ensuing weeks, we hung out at each others' houses a few times, watching Cavs games and movies. We texted a lot, though we only occasionally talked on the phone. (Go figure.)

I even still have his number in my phone. (Remember my rule about not deleting numbers?)

Fast forward to the past couple of weeks.

I thought it was a little odd that he added me as a Facebook friend, but we did know a couple of people in common so I didn't think it was all that weird.

Until I got this message a day or so after I accepted his friend request:

Hi AAB,

i recently ran into someone that said that you and i went on a date that i cant rmember. You are a beautiful girl and im sure i wouldnt forget that. if we did go on a date please refresh my memory and let me know when and where and please forgive me.

I hope all is well.

Amnesia Guy

(AAB sidenote: I've gotta believe the person who told him that was The Banker, since they knew each other from growing up, which The Banker and I discovered when we were talking one day.)

For mother effin' real? How do you not remember hanging out with someone on a NUMBER of occasions? I mean, I get it if someone's name doesn't necessarily ring a bell. Or if you only saw the person one time. But c'mon.

The kicker is that we hung out no fewer than four times. And, I actually think there were a couple of other times that we ran into each other when we were out with our own groups of friends. But there were at least four times when it was JUST US.

So, I politely wrote him back, told him I was glad that I was so memorable, outlined in great detail the instances we hung out and thought that was the end of it.

Until he wrote back.

And asked me to call him. (His exact message was: call me xxx-xxx-xxxx.)

I didn't. (Eff you. If you can't even remember me, why would I bother?)

So then he wrote back again a couple of days later asking me to please call him because this has been driving him crazy and he just wants to make sure I was right. (His exact words, BTW.)

Um, I was definitely right, Amnesia Guy. When I broke it off with you years ago. Eeeew.

P.S. In case you're wondering, I responded to that last message from him with a big fat eff you. (Actually, I didn't say eff you per se. But I did tell him that I had no interest in rehashing the times we hung out when he couldn't even remember who I was. After, of course, I described in detail what his living room looked like so he knew that I wasn't making shit up. Bitchy? Probably. Necessary? Definitely.)

i don't want 2 git wit u

During the revelry that was the all-girls bachelor party for our friend Brian a couple of weekends ago, I gave my number to a guy who was hanging out near us at the Velvet Dog.

What a mistake.

(And I wasn't even drunk.)

(OK, I wasn't even that drunk.)

Anyhow, he called three times the day after we met (but did not leave a message), then sent me a text the following day:

Hello AAB this Grammar Guy from the roof top saturday night. How u do n what's up wit u

Ummm... that is just all kinds of wrong. (Especially b/c anyone who knows me in real life calls me the Grammar Queen. Even though I take a lot of grammatical liberties when it comes to my blog. Like that past non-sentence, for example.)

Anyhow, I immediately knew I was not interested. But I didn't want to be a complete bitch, so I politely wrote back (with correct grammar) and told him that I had a long day at work and was heading to a meeting for the rest of the nite.

Below is the series of follow-up texts that I received from him (none of which I responded to):

• Jus takin it easy. Call me when your done I want to talk to u. What type if (sic) work u do (sent late last Monday)


• Goodmorning AAB. Hope u have a wonderful day today. When u get a minute give me a call or text. ***Grammar Guy*** (sent last Tuesday morning before 7am -- and, yes, he did sign his name with three stars on either side of it)


• Hi AAB. Give me a call when u get this message. (sent later that same day around 5pm)

He then proceeded to call me TWICE that nite. The last time he called, he left a message and said he wasn't going to call again if I didn't call him back.

(And, P.S., he talks just like he texts.)

I didn't call or text back. So I thought the saga was over. Until I got this doozy on Thursday:

Hi, Always a Bridesmaid. Jus wanted to know if I could meet u somewhere or take u out this weekend.

Now don't get me wrong. I realize that not everyone was an English major in college... but I also can not ever imagine dating someone who talks and/or texts like 50 Cent. I mean, the word "just" has a "t" on the end of it, FYI.

Man, I obviously needed Jorge as a wingman the nite I met the Grammar Guy... to "jus" keep me AWAY from him!

***Always a Bridesmaid***

You give Val a bad name*

(* with apologies to JBJ and the rest of the Bon Jovi gang)

It seems I may have jumped the gun on suggesting that Val was a cokehead because he texted me at 7am last weekend.

Why? Because my friend texted me at (what I thought was) 1:13am last nite. So I wrote her back this morning and was like, "Why the eff were you texting me at 1am?"

She responded, "I didn't. I sent that at 8:29!"

Ooops. Which means the span between her sending the message and me getting the message was nearly five hours. Which also means that it's possible that Val actually sent that 7am message to me at more like 2am.

(And, really, who among us hasn't sent a drunk text when the bars were closing? Though I did specifically ask him after receiving that 7am text whether he had just sent it and I just got the proverbial "LOL!" response.)

So, I'm sorry for giving you a bad name, Val. Maybe you were being legit and just drunk texting me at the much more understandable time of 2am.

Or, maybe you're still just a cokehead. But I am willing to give you a second chance if you ever actually follow through with your suggestion of grabbing drinks.

In the meantime, I am continuing my Manhunt March activities and will have an update for all of you next week... including a date I have on Tuesday with a new potential... stay tuned!

P.S. Happy Spring!

Texts from last nite

If you read this blog with any regularity, you are well aware of my disdain for dating in the digital age. As in, boys using text messaging to court a lady.

(Don't get me wrong. I'm not expecting some handwritten love letter delivered by pony express. But maybe, just maybe, can you pick up the phone to call me a couple of times?!?)

Anyhow... I just discovered an awesome blog that I can totally relate to: Texts from Last Night. It's basically a running list of crazy texts readers sent or received the previous nite. Mosey on over and check it out. I promise you'll be entertained.

A recent example posted on the site (the numbers are the area codes of the sender/receiver):

(425): Just met a synchronized swimmer, can you imagine the things she could do in the water(425): Legs for days

(425): Harpoon that

I bring this up because I think I may have a text to submit to this site now. After a few weekend texts from Val asking what I was doing on Saturday nite, he asked me to meet up for some beers sometime soon since I already had plans on Saturday. Fair enough. But then I received this text message from him:

What did u do tonite?

Well, at least he remembered the question mark this time. And the text in and of itself isn't bad at all. But here's the rub: the text came in at 7:04 am. Yes, he was still awake at 7 in the morning. Presumably from the nite before, since he used the word "tonite."

Now, I know it sounds like I'm jumping to conclusions here. But I did tell you that I thought he partied a little too much based on what I saw on his Facebook page right after he friended me last month. And today's Facebook status now reads: Val is going to lay low for a while. (Which, incidentally, was followed by several people's comments saying that would never happen.)

Do you think I'm jumping to conclusions? Or do you agree that this guy is just bad news?

I've heard of a 3-day wait period, but this is just crazy

We all have heard "the rule" for how long a guy waits to call (or these days, text) a girl after an initial conversation or first date. What, two or three days, right?

Wrong. Apparently, it's almost one month. After having brunch the day after Valentine's Day with Val (after meeting the nite before and him being adamant about getting together sooner than later), he pretty much disappeared (even though we had talked about possibly getting together the following weekend to grab a drink at The Velvet Tango Room).

Since that is par for the course in my dating life, I didn't think anything of it. And the more I "virtually" got to know him through his Facebook status updates (he had "friended" me while we were on our brunch date), the more I was questioning just what kind of guy Val is.

(What grown-ass man uses the word "dookies" in his status updates? Seriously?)

Then, on Wednesday nite, I receive this text from Val at almost 10:30pm:

R u doing happy hour tomorrow

My initial reactions to the text:

• You are very random, Val


• He must have sent this text to the wrong person


• Did we have plans that I don't remember making?


• Why didn't he use a question mark?

After that short-lived inner monologue, I texted back that I already had dinner plans with some friends, but assumed he must be going to happy hour so to have fun.

He replied with this: I was gonna meet up with u a chop house.

Again, I do not recall having plans to go to the Chop House with you, Val (though I do love their happy hour). I mean, if that is a request for a date, couldn't he at least have said, "I was hoping we could meet up at Chop House for a drink." Or something sort of like that?!?

Regardless, I had other plans last nite (a very fun girl date at Three Birds, where I ate too much bread and drank too much wine), so I didn't end up meeting up with him.

Guess that means I should expect to hear from him again in about another month or so. (Man, I am getting flashbacks of The Groundhog!)

Excuses, excuses

We've all heard them. The lame-o excuses for why he didn't call when he said he would, why he couldn't get together, why he couldn't answer when you called.

(And, to be fair, we've probably all used some of them ourselves, right?)

That said, my friend from work dated a guy for a few months who literally had more excuses than anyone I have ever heard of. They stopped dating, but she still has a running tab of all of the excuses he used over the course of the time they were dating. A sampling:

• Threw his back out


• Phone was "catastrophically jacked up" and had been for three days


• Had to make an emergency and unexpected visit to PA to deal with family issues (twice)


• Was going to be "driving around til God knows when"


• Really sick and may have had pneumonia


• "Seriously ill" from bad fish

And, of course, most (if not all) of these excuses were delivered via text. (And we all know how I feel about that.)

Now I'm racking my brain to remember some of the doozies I've heard. What are some of your favorite excuses from boys?

Do you think he texts in prescriptions too?

After learning from blogdad that he had given my number to The Doctor last week, I honestly wasn't expecting to hear from him.

But I did.

This afternoon.

Via text.

The message:

Hi, Always a Bridesmaid. Your dad stopped by my office with a beautiful picture of you and your parents along with your number...

Um... I'm not even sure what to do with this. On one hand, I'm willing to give him the benefit of the doubt with this whole texting business. Maybe he's really shy. Or maybe he's trying to put feelers out to see if I respond before he calls so as to avoid rejection.

On the other hand... seriously?!?!? Your first outreach is via text? And not even a, "Hi, this is The Doctor. Blah blah blah." What did men do prior to texting? Ugh. I am really not feeling the initial text outreach.

However, since I just declared this month Manhunt March (see post below), I will respond. The problem is, I have to text back because I don't remember his first name (it's written on a piece of paper in my office) since I can't really call him and say, "Hey, you. It's Always a Bridesmaid."

I swear, only me. Ugh.

Someone stole my idea...

Specifically, Debra Goldstein and Olivia Baniuszewicz stole my idea. Why? They just published a book called Flirtexting: How to Text Your Way to His Heart.

I really can't believe that Debra and Olivia have ever dated MORE guys that like texting than I have, so it stands to reason that this book should have been written by me. (Then again, I suppose that's what this blog is.)

Most recent texter? Val. We haven't verbally talked to since our date on Sunday (which was sort of OK with me because I was crazy busy all week anyhow), but he has texted and sent me Facebook messages throughout the week. Aaaahh. You know what I call that?

Digital Dating.

(Note to Debra and Olivia -- I am hereby copyrighting the Digital Dating phrase. Unless you want to pay me an assload to buy it as the title of your next book.)

Anyhow, apparently the premise of the Flirtexting book is this (taken from Amazon): You see, rather than feel disappointed that her guy isn't making an effort to talk F2F (face to face), the flirtexting aficionado works it.

So according to this book, I'm supposed to be glad a guy's not calling, right? No thanks.

But it would make my life a heck of a lot easier.

Thanks, Nance, for alerting me to this book!

Man Monday

We're giving TMGB a week off (he needs to recover from his Dirty Thirty anyhow) to bring you a reader question from an XY.

I know I’ve said this before, but I’m always amazed that boys read this blog. (Actually, I’m amazed that anyone reads it!)

Anyhow, I got an email from a boy this weekend – we’ll call him In Too Deep (because he requested a blog name and this story has to do with swimming… sort of) – asking for your advice with his love life. Specifically, he wants to know why girls play games. (Duh. Because we’re getting back at the boys who do the same thing to us!)

In the interest of time (yours!), I’ve shortened the story/background for you. (And it’s STILL long. TWSS.) Take a read and help a brother out in the comments section.

*****

I met this girl three Saturdays ago when we were out in a large group of mutual friends. I thought she was cute, but I was getting the vibe that he had a boyfriend or something.

I took a leap of faith and started talking to her. Turns out she's a swim coach and this was her one night out in quite a while due to work obligations. We exchanged numbers and I told her I'd give her a call sometime next week.

Everyone leaves, I'm on my way home and get a text from her saying, "it was great meeting you, etc., etc.” I reply back, “you too, I'll call you this week & maybe we can meet up for dinner.”

We met for dinner that Thursday, had a great time and could have spent the whole night talking, but alas the restaurant was closing and they kicked us out. After the "first date,” I heard from some of our mutual friends that she talked about how excited she was for this date, what a great guy I am, etc.

Since then we've spent time together two more times and I just generally have had a great time when I'm with her.

Fast forward to yesterday. (Always a Bridesmaid sidenote: “yesterday” was Saturday in this email.) I hadn’t talked to her for a couple of days. I was trying to play it cool, but inside it was killing me to not say hi to her or ask how her day was going.

So I get a text from her in the early evening saying that her swim meet just ended and that she'd call and let me know if she was going out so we could meet up.

I went out with a couple friends and didn't hear back from her. No big deal, I thought. But she ended up going out with some of her friends, and by a stroke of luck we all ended up at the same bar.

She came over and said hi to me, gave me a hug and a kiss on the cheek, and that was about it for the night. She talked to me very little the whole evening and she kept complaining about being tired, wanting to go home. I offered to take her home if she wanted to go, but she kept insisting I had been drinking (which I was, but I would never put my life in danger, let alone someone else's). She ended up calling a cab for herself.

On my way home I sent her a text, telling her I hoped she made it home and to have a good night. As of 5pm today (AAB sidenote: “today” is Sunday in this letter), that message has not be returned.

Obviously she likes me (she's initiated both times we went out together) and made the first move in the kissing thing (pathetic, I know!). So what was her issue last night? Is she playing hard to get? Did the fact that I was wearing a hat last night turn her off? Should I have worn black instead of blue? Or is she seeing if I can crack?

*****

Personally, I don’t think she’s playing games, In Too Deep. Maybe she’s just fed up with being the one to initiate everything? You said it yourself. SHE initiated your dates, SHE initiated your first kiss, and SHE was the one who came over to you at the bar on Saturday nite. Did you go over to her at any point on Saturday nite to pay special attention to her? And have you ever actually called her to chat? Or are you one of those serial texting guys? Maybe she thinks you're the one playing games, and that you're not interested in her.

What advice do you guys have for In Too Deep?

Guest blogger #2 - Mr. Textual

If you read this blog with any regularity, you know all about my trials and tribulations with boys who are obsessed with text messaging. So it should come as no surprise to you that I immediately identified with this guest post submission from BonQuiQui.

Lucky for me, I don't think I've ever had textual intercourse like this guy was trying to with Miss BonQuiQui.

Read on!

*****

One night this past summer I found myself slightly intoxicated at a bar in Berea with some friends. After chatting with some boy toy potentials, I ended up getting into a good conversation with a guy whom we shall call Mr. Textual. He was funny and definitely kept my attention.

Mr. Textual was cute, graduated from college and had a job. Those last two qualifications are traits that I usually don’t find. So one subject leads to another and he suggests that we get dinner sometime during the upcoming week at the lovely Olive Garden. I agreed, considering a free Italian meal is always appealing, and we continued to chat for the remainder of the evening.

The next morning, I awoke to a text message from Mr. Textual saying the standard “I had fun last night, hope you did too” mantra. I sent a simple response back assuming that would be the last of the texting for the day.

Boy, was I mistaken. Before the noon hour I had easily received twenty texts from him. And it didn’t stop there. By the end of the day, I had probably over 100 messages from the lad.

As the afternoon progressed, so did the inappropriateness of his messages. He went from talking about his job, to talking about, well his 'sexual' preferences. For a guy I had just met, that was quite a turnoff.

Towards the end of our conversing, he mentions our upcoming date:
Mr. Textual: What are you gonna wear to our date?
BonQuiQui (Creeped out slightly): A shirt and jeans
Mr. Textual: You should wear a skirt
BonQuiQui (Creeped out a little more): Haha we shall see
Mr. Textual: How do you feel about you wearing a skirt on our date and us getting a secluded booth at the restaurant…(There was more to this message but not what is appropriate)
BonQuiQui (Completely creeped out): Haha....NO.

I have nothing against PDA, but that is just a bit too far. With fears of being assualted via breadstick, I called off our date, and have only heard from him a few times since. Of course, by text, and of course I do not respond. I guess I should be thankful that he asked my opinion of his idea of a good dinner date prior to the date itself.

Looking for a few good... er... bloggers

The holidays are approaching, which means I'm probably going to want to take a few days off from posting about my (lack of) love life.

(Unless, of course, you want me to hang myself from a bundle of mistletoe.)

But me taking a break doesn't mean this blog has to suffer.

So here's my idea...

Are you single and wanting to share one of your crazy dating stories? (Go ahead. Just TRY to beat the story about the guy who asked me about my hoo-hah over appies.)

Or are you coupled up and dying to tell us what it's like on "the other side"?? (Or maybe you just want to vent about how you wish you were still single?)

Or are you a guy who wants to tell us ladies what dating is like from the XY perspective? (PLEASE. For the love of all things holy... what the hell are you guys thinking?!?)

Then drop me an email at cleve27dresses@yahoo.com. I'll be happy to post your stories over the next several weeks. Think of it as your Christmas present to me!

The rules are simple:

• You can't use a guy's (or girl's) real name (unless he's a friend involved in your story and not the romantic interest). Instead, use a fun nickname for whoever the love interest is.


• Tell me what name you want your post published under (like my Always a Bridesmaid moniker -- or you can use your real name if you're really brave!).


• If you have a blog, let me know what it is so I can link to it.


• You have to be funny (duh).

That's it! I'll post guest blogger entries over the next several weeks (assuming any actually come in!!) in between my updates about The Teachalian (who wants to get together this week), The Italian Stallion (who I've talked to a couple of times now... and who hasn't sent one text! YEAH!) and The Teacher (who I already have a post in the works about).

I know you've got stories, ladies (and gents). Don't be shy!

P.S. if you know my personal email address, feel free to send your entries there too. (Same rules apply!)

I've heard of head over heels, but this is ridiculous...

Last Friday, I was at the Bier Markt with a friend I haven't seen since third grade (so fun!! and I also ran into my blogging buddy Alexa) when I witnessed what could quite possibly be the strangest attempt to pick up a woman I have ever seen.

A guy did a cartwheel.

That's right.

A guy did a cartwheel. In the middle of the bar.

It was one of those moments that seemed to go so fast it was a blur, while at the same time seemed to be happening in slow motion.

And why, you ask, did he do that? (Besides the Christmas Ale, of course.) To impress a girl.

(In case you're wondering, it didn't work.)

The rest of the nite sort of paled in comparison, though I did meet The Teachalian, a guy my sister Jenna suggested I should meet.

(Sorry, readers... I am completely stuck on a name for this guy since I don't know him well enough to be creative beyond what he does for a living. He is a teacher by trade, but I already have The Teacher that I've written about, so that name is out. And he's super Italian, but I've already used The Italian Stallion too. So I made up my own word. Teacher + Italian = Teachalian.)

Anyhow, The Teachalian was cute (though perhaps maybe a tad too manicured for my liking... OMG, I never thought I would say that) and seemed to have a good sense of humor. We hung out for a little while but, to be honest, I was a little more preoccupied with catching up with my 3rd grade BFF than macking on some new guy.

He did text on Saturday nite to see if I maybe wanted to meet out with him (I declined, as I was already tipsy on Prosecco at my friends' house) and just texted again tonite to see if I wanted to maybe grab a drink this week.

And while I hate that he is texting so much (I will nip this in the bud, to be sure), I do sort of like that he is pursuing me. (The Teacher and The Italian Stallion could take a few pointers.)

Who knows? Maybe we'll meet and fall in love over a cannoli while reading first grade text books.

Hey, stranger things have happened. Like guys doing cartwheels in bars.

Strange encounters of the digital kind

I have had some STRANGE encounters of the digital kind over the past several weeks.

First, there was the guy who Facebook friended me who I didn't know.

Here's how it went down: my friend Amy at work sent a pic of a bunch of us to her hubby; her hubby showed the pic to his friend from work; the friend from work (the guy who I'm talking about -- we'll call him The Engineer) claimed he knew me, and asked Amy's husband a zillion questions about me.

Weeks later, The Engineer Facebook friended me. Mind you, I still have NO IDEA who this guy is at this point (and, actually, still don't). When I didn't immediately accept his friend request, he asked Amy's hubby why I hadn't accepted him yet. So, I hit "confirm" just to get it over and done with already.

Of course, because I don't know him, I never sent a message or anything after accepting his friend request. A couple of weeks later, The Engineer wrote on my wall and just said, "I can't believe you haven't said hello yet." WTF? I don't even KNOW you. And if you wanted to get to know me so badly, why wouldn't YOU say something first?

Since then, he has sent me a couple other messages (commenting on status updates, my Halloween costume, etc.). And he's also apparently told Amy's husband that he can't understand why I haven't asked him out yet.

Gee, I wonder.

Then, I got a much creepier message.

This time, I received a text message from someone who wasn't in my phone. The sender's address was "HI." Like, whoever sent me the message purposely overwrote their phone number so I couldn't see it, then replaced it with "HI." And so was born The Creepy Texter.

Then I read the message: "Always a Bridesmaid! You are dressed nice today. Love that blouse!"

A few things to comment on:

• The Creepy Texter knew my name. And purposely didn't want me to know his (or hers???).


• The Creepy Texter HAD to have seen me that day. I know, I know. You could say that anyone could guess I was wearing a blouse based on what most girls wear to work. But the truth is, I was wearing a very obvious blouse. One that you WOULD comment on. Not just a plain blue shirt or something. And how did he know I wasn't wearing a sweater or a dress?


• The Creepy Texter used the word "blouse." That in and of itself is creepy. What boy says "blouse?"

After fearing for the entire weekend that I was going to be chopped up into little pieces, I decided (and still HOPE) this was just someone I know playing a prank on me.

But, whoever it was has good taste. I do look cute in that blouse. :)

Staxting (stalker texting)

Well, my friends... thank goodness for my rule about not deleting old phone numbers from your phone. Yesterday morning, I got a text around 7am. I was awake (but still in bed watching TV), so I picked up the phone to see who it was (since my parents are on vacation and I thought maybe they tried to reach us).

Ummmm... it was an "urgent" text message (who even knew you could DO that?) from The High School Stalker that I wrote about in this post. I have literally not seen him since last summer.

And, this was the "urgent" message: Ur still hot. I've wanted my date since I broke my neck! Remember me?

Let's interpret:

• Do I remember you? My dad almost got a restraining order against you! But, in order to nip this thing in the bud and hope that I didn't hear any more from him, I simply responded, "Who is this?" (I think it worked... did not get a response.)


• "My date"??? We NEVER talked about going on a date.


• Broke your neck? I like how that was casually mentioned as though I already knew it. WTF?

In summary, a psycho guy from high school who told me he loved me on our first date (then proceeded to drop me off and bang some other chic at a party) urgent texted me at an ungodly hour yesterday morning for a date as he was laying in traction.

Man, my dating life is awesome.

Just another random Monday... whoooaaaa...

Wow, what a very random boy nite.

First, I talked to The Banker. That in and of itself wasn't weird. What WAS weird is that he was going out tonite with a guy that I randomly met a couple of years ago and went out with a few times. Turns out they're friends from growing up. More six degrees of separation!!! (Side note: I have a tentative date set with him tomorrow nite.)

Then I got some texts from The Cop (who I have not talked to nor texted since that random nite when I met him and he kept disappearing):

• What up
• U out?
• [random picture of himself drinking a beer]
• [same random picture of himself drinking a beer]

And to top off the randomness of tonite, I then got a text from The San Diego Marine (who I still contend is probably the hottest guy I have ever made out with -- sorry if that's TMI, blogmom).

Anyhow, he's on vacation with a friend (who I also met when I was in SD), and they were talking about me (interesting, considering I haven't emailed, talked or texted him in months) and he wanted to send me a text (and warn me to expect a drunk dial soon).

That marine. Mmmmm. He really is the kind of guy I want to find. In addition to being disgustingly hot, he's funny (in a goofy/silly kind of way), smart and sweet. He's lucky he doesn't live in Cleveland because I'm pretty sure I'd change up "Semper Fi" to something inappropriate like "Grab my thigh."

Midnite texter

I woke up this morning to a text from The Coach that was very bizarre in content and timing. As background, he has still been texting. He actually even tried to call over the weekend, but I missed the call. He left no vm. Then I got a TEXT (of course) saying that he tried to leave a vm but wasn't sure it went through. Suspicious.

Anyhow, he tried to call again last nite, but I again missed the call. I never got around to calling him back because I talked to my friend Molly and The Banker (I know, right? he called again!), then crashed on the couch.

Long story short... I woke up this morning to this text (sent at 2:55 am -- the time he gets up for work):

Im sorry it didnt work out 4 u. Ur very attractive & seemed 2b alot of fun 2 b with! Good luck 2 u!

Yikes. Now I feel badly and think I should (maybe?) respond. Not necessarily because I want to go out with him again. More because I don't want him to think I'm a huge B. and I'm sure he really is a very nice guy.

Or am I just being silly?

Texting your way to love

A guy from work forwarded me this video called "Texting your way to love," which is hysterically funny (and sort of a sad commentary on dating these days too). It's well worth the six minutes. Thanks for forwarding it, Alex!

It also reminded me of a word I came across in the Urban Dictionary book that Santa put in my stocking last year (yes, I'm 32 and my mother still insists on giving us stockings).

The word?

Textpectation: The anticipation one feels when waiting for a response to a text message.
I just texted her for a date – but now the textpectation is killing me.

Gotta love technology.

September to remember

It's been an interesting weekend since Friday nite. The Banker and The Cop have both been texting me a TON, and The Phoenix Brother keeps calling too (he's going to be in town next weekend and wants to hang out). The Banker has even picked up the phone to -- gasp!! -- call. What a novelty.

Hmmm... is there something in the air? I smell Fall nesting.

My friend Carrie is convinced that September is the month o' boys (well, not for her anymore -- she just got married). She theorizes that oldies climb out of the woodwork like crazy and newbies show up in throngs. She says they're all starting to think about the cold Fall/Winter months and want a little snuggle bunny to share them with. And she's got a Master's in psychology, so that must mean she knows what she's talking about. ;)

Guess we have another week or so to find out...