Oh ouch! The little single pains!

I have a new blog! It is calles “myname”likes.wordpress.com! There I talk about the lovely things I like and enjoy and maybe hope other people will check out!

Writing blogs when I’m frustrated feels easy, but I’d like to branch out into blogs about…everything else for all the people I know to read. As a step towards that I started this little blog about things I enjoy, which seemed easy and controlled for a topic. I don’t write well with too much freedom yet, I like little containers for my creativity.

Sometimes frustration pain is the only sensation I know that doesn’t feel like it fits in a neat container, when it’s on your mind it’s on your mind and can flow into anything you put under it. It doesn’t mind wallowing around a computer. Fair-flitting happiness has no time for keyboards!

I had one last little boy hope for the time being. I met a very gorgeous boy a couple weeks ago, and we were supposed to get together…but it hasn’t happened just yet, only texts, and I think from some facebook phone pics he posted he may have been on a wine dinner date with another lady newly added to his friend cache. Oh ouch. I think I’m out of the running. I have to face this world now, where I am completely single with no immediate prospects for …not being single. I would just like a little string of hope to hold onto. Which is what the last fellow, friend of mine, that I dated was. The last in my arsenal of things that could resemble a quasi relationship. Unfortunatly due to the unstable nature of grey-ly defined quasi-relationships, they tend to dismantle spontaneously.

So after almost THREE years of continual relationship-ing. I am, most unsettlingly single.

I want a relationship like I want a television. Because everyone else has one and they keep you company some evenings. This is like having no television, and I can’t borrow anyone else’s television and I can’t just buy a television. I just have no television.


The Good and Bad

Every stage of life, each day, has positive and negative elements juxtaposed, and I think it’s simply the aspects that we focus on that determine whether it’s a happy or sad period of time. I want to list the things that dissapoint me first, so I think I’m sort of interpreting my own funk. I’m going to take a little road trip to Charleston tomorrow and I hope to refresh my perspective in the company of an excellent personage and pup on a near beach front property. I’m speculating we’ll have take some photo excursions (maybe i’ll get to learn some photography things), visit the historic/artsy city from the insiders perspective, make dinner, drink hot tea, take beach walks, and play puppy games.

Oh look! I listed the positives first! I’m flipping my life through prose! Excellent. So I’ll finish assembling my banana bread dough, pop it in the oven, amuse myself with an episode of Friends while it bakes, have some hot peppermint tea, and turn into bed 🙂

Other good things-

-I was accepted to THREE dental schools! Awesome!
-I’m going to be a dentist
-I’m flying to Michigan Monday for a snowy Christmas
-My dad is relatively safe, and relatively healthy
-I probably have a date this weekend with this gorgeous guy I met at the jingle ball
-Ashley is in Japan, surely assembling a massive collection of photos so that when she comes back and shows them to me, I’ll feel like I’ve been there myself!
-My friend Brandyn and I hung out yesterday for his birthday. I’m glad we’re still friends. I think we’ve got some work to do, we’ve drifted a bit, but 🙂 I hope he’s always in my life. He’s like a math genius and gives these great vignettes about mathematicians of old.

That sounds happy enough to go to bed on 🙂

The 3 Stages of Post-Break Up Emoting

In my experience, for girls, there are generally 3-4 stages of post-break up feeling. (not necessarily grieving…hopefully nobody died, if so, you did not deal with stage 2 very well)

The Stages are

  1. Denial
  2. Hardcore Man-hating
  3. Apathy

The first stage is characterized by the inability to grasp that the dating partner has decided to take the path of a slug/tool/butt-monkey and a slew of other varieties of butt-monkery. At this time it is very possible the party in denial will engage in a variety of doormat activities in which said ‘butt-monkey’ can get away with any manner of ridiculous activities with no reproach. The party in denial will also be impervious to comments of consolation from friends in the form of adjectives characterizing the slimy slug butt monkey, and will perhaps take part in self-criticism as means of explaining break up.

The second stage, hardcore man-hating, can be productive if man-hate is channeled into proper activities such as excercise, construction or demolition work, cleaning, reorganization, drag-racing, or volunteering at a women’s organization. This stage follows the epiphany that aforementioned slug-cretin….is a slug-cretin. Man-hate will very according to the degree to which injured party acted as doormat. (Longer periods of doormat-ery = longer or more severe period of man-hate) Man-hate commonly extends to all men, and most accutely to slug-cretin. Thoughts of ill-will pepper daily synapses.

The third period, Apathy, comes as the distinct memory of the scurrilous jerk-wad fades, the injuries heal, and life again proceeds as normal.

Occasionally, there is a fourth period of amicableness in which once disenfranchized parties will decide to enter a relationship of friendship, occasionally.

Recognizing the stages of emoting can help one deal with them.

I am approaching the end of Stage 2, Hardcore Man-hating. Yes, were I too be surrounded by a swarm of men, I would no longer feel compulsed to stifle a gag reflex.

This is anonymous? (mostly?)

Last weekend was pretty lousy. It was spent at the beach being ignored by what had previously seemed to be a most upstanding gentleman. Nope.

Tuesday, the phone call comes “I don’t feel the same way about you that I did when we started dating…let’s see how I feel in a few days…”

Wednesday. Me eat food? Buh. Me run 5 miles? Heck yea.

Thursday. Cryptic voicemail, ” I’m in Raleigh, I’ve finished at the hospital for the day…want to hang out?”
‘Hang out’ being code for ‘be dumped’. Oh sure…I”m always up for being dumped on thursdays.

Fortunately, I have the most kick butt girlfriends ever and we were out in a Limo drinking champagne by 10 p.m. and out for a night of dancing and hilarious antics.

Of course all the boys I ended up dancing with were wearing dresses…so I’m not sure how well I’m rebounding…

(but truthfully a group of handsome gentlemen had chosen to don women’s apparel for the evening for the purpose of avoiding the “Ladies Night” cover charge….ahh college boys 🙂 )

And Friday…I received my very first professional school invitation ! Excitement!

And now I’m playing Jordan Sparks “One Step at a Time” non stop and my heart is starting to feel a little better.


What is the perfect outfit to wear for a breakup?

This is the kind of valuable information your mother, psychologist, best friend, gay neighbor, bartender, and local clergy never seem to provide.

I’m at a loss for clothes.

A Short Story

Ginny waves the list exasperatedly in front of her face and exclaims, “I just don’t get it! I thought he was the perfect guy!”

Little gleams of moisture develop in the corners of her eye.

“Check it again,” Carrie states emphatically.

“I did! It says he’s the perfect guy! It just doesn’t make any sense, why would this happen to me?”

“But jerk can’t possibly be on the list, did you look for that? Check really close!”

After squinting and scanning the list again, Ginny’s mouth drops into a large “O” and then she squeels, “Oh my gosh! Oh my gosh! It’s NOT on the list! Jerk is not on the list at ALL! He CAN’T be the perfect guy!”

Both girls sigh and then giggle. And then Ginny cries…for the last time.


…so a lot of times I think I deserve alot of special attention and frills in relationships, because I’m (in my own estimation) so cute, sweet, and cheerful. I came across this Dilbert strip though, which put it all into comic perspective;

…I’ll try to remember I’m just human, normal type.