Mr. Goodman & the Identity Crisis

Ladies & Gentleman, I have returned. So brace yourself for a tall dark glass of whine, and while you're at it may I recommend the Italian sheep's milk cheese to pair with it? Simply delicious.

Yes, I'm back, and no, nothing good can come from it.

"What happened? You stalled for months and then fell off the map altogether!"

Well, dear reader, the answer to your accusing question is multifaceted.

An Unexpected Redemption Story

I owe it to someone to patch up his reputation a little bit. So despite my desire to burn all men at the stake just now, I'm swallowing down my pride and admitting to a case of hasty judgment.

A couple of days ago I got a text from Mr. Entrepreneur, much to my shock. It was a late night text on a Friday, just asking how I've been. After everything that happened with Mr. Charming only a week prior, I wasn't exactly amused. Frankly I was pissed. Where does this guy get the nerve, thinking I want anything to do with him? Why do all these guys think they can treat me like shit and I will still jump at the chance to see them!?

Of course, after I calmed down a little bit, I remembered my promise not to ghost anyone, and I remembered that over all, Mr. Entrepreneur really didn't seem like such a bad guy. He just made a few mistakes and ultimately wasn't the right guy for me anyway. So I sent back the bare minimum "Fine, thanks," kind of reply. He didn't get the hint. Or maybe he did, but he had a little more tenacity than I'm actually giving him credit for. Remember: we're repairing his reputation here. Much like Lizzie Bennet in Pride & Prejudice I am not always a reliable narrator. I tell you stories from my own heavily biased view point. Either way, I got a second date ask out.

>>>> That's good! Would you want to hang out again? Or you weren't really feeling it? Haha.

Little Black Dress Moments

"So trust me when I say if a guy is treating you like he doesn't give a shit, he genuinely doesn't give a shit."

I wish I could say "Here endeth the lesson." But the truth is, this is where it begins. I am pretty sure that I opened my very first post on this site with this quote. It's a personal favorite of mine. But even with this life-altering approach to dating, it's still easy to get swept up in the temptation of making excuses for a person you're attracted to. That said, I pride myself that there's only so far he can go before I stop making those excuses.

My Psycho Psyche

I'm updating twice this week, mostly because I just had to call in sick and I'm home in bed with a blocked ear (things you shouldn't fly with: a blocked ear) and nothing better to do.

Also, I'm updating because my subconscious is getting a little out of control.

Look, I realize I'm lonely. That's normal. There are times when being single is a lot of fun, and I am totally comfortable and confident with just being my awesome self, by myself. And then there's other times, times like right now in which I just straight up feel lonely and really miss the companionship of having a boyfriend.

I know, congratulations, Self, on single-handedly undoing the feminist movement. Except that we all know I don't believe that, that I have very firmly stated that there is nothing wrong with the desire to have love in your life.

Have you noticed that this post already sounds like I'm arguing with myself? That's probably a pretty accurate depiction of what's going on with me lately.

Rejected

Oh, let's be honest. We all saw the writing on the wall. We knew this was coming. I won't even pretend to be blindsided myself. In spite of my occasionally lacking judgment skills when it comes to dating, even I can't kid myself.

I haven't heard from Mr. Charming in over a week now. In fact, I haven't heard from him since he told me he'd let me know if he was free Friday. In other words, apparently I don't even warrant so much as a

>>>> can't make it sry

text.

But guys? It still hurts. Even when you know you're headed for a fall, see it coming miles away, when the thing actually happens, foresight doesn't make it any less…ouch.