conclusive proof: boys and booze dont mix

last night, i went to a show. i must have taken a wrong turn in albuquerque and gone to a play, cause all i got was drama. admittedly, it was my fault; tipsy girls and the boys they want but cant have are never a good combination. it was the sort of night you knew was going to end badly, though even cynical me could have never predicted how badly it would end.

things with dewey decimal have never run smoothly. starting in november it went from dinners and movies and phone calls and emails to crickets. there was never a fight or a specific incident i can point to, but suddenly i was lucky if he returned a phone call and we averaged seeing each other more than once every six weeks. last night, i saw him on the street outside black cat. his band was playing and he asked if i was coming inside. mistake number one.

we talked and we talk-talked and then we left to talk some more at his house. the night ended in tears (mine) and with one of us making a spectacle out of themself (i'll let you guess which one...). sadly, this was not the ladylike type of crying which would qualify as delicate or dainty. nope. this was hysterical, sobbing, body-shaking, convulsive crying. this was a year of pent up anger, sadness, frustration and misguided hope coming out all at once with an unstoppable force.

after walking me out of his room, he turned and walked back into his apartment. its 2 am, and dewey has many times told me his neighborhood is marginal and cabs are scarce. does he offer to walk me through columbia heights to the metro, or help me flag a cab? no. he left me crying on his front stoop and went back to bed. my cabbie pitied me enough to offer me a cigarette and offer to come upstairs with me, because he "could make me feel better."

once home, i proceeded to call several people who had been involved in various parts of the night. apparently i left a message for a.h. where i was so distraught it lead her to believe i was the victim of or witness to a violent crime.

that said, heartbreak doesnt feel like i remember it. in place of the sharp pains of insecurity and unrequited adoration that plagued the last 9 months, im left feeling dull and empty.

thankfully, i have great friends. friends who call me worried at 5 a.m. telling me to call them at any hour. friends who bring me mcdonalds picnics complete with 4 different sundaes so i dont have to choose between caramel or chocolate. friends who bring me books since i cant go back to the library. friends who call to share exciting news about having something published or call to invite me to celebrate their "weekend of love" commemorating their first anniversary as a married couple, who switch immediately into support mode as soon as they hear my voice.

today has officially been asshole day

and its going to take a whole lot more than this to take the taste out of my mouth.

how to cheat on your girlfriend

dear velveeta:

it was good to hear from you. im glad that youre doing well and have finally moved in to your own place. you mentioned having a girlfriend, and while i hope that things are going well between you, it doesnt sound like they are. you seem to be a little confused about how relationships work; allow me to explain: all social interactions are dictated by rules of etiquette. some actions and relationships, however, are intended to remain private, meaning your mother probably never taught you the proper place to hide the panties you stole from one night stands, or that emily post has never issued a ruling on how to properly broach the topic of initiating a physical relationship with an ex while in the middle of an emotional relationship with someone else.

so, allow van nasty to spell it out for you: only one of us is in a relationship. as that person, the responsibility is on you to make sure that your girlfriend doesnt find out that you have been propositioning me. i do not have the power to erase your text messages or emails; assuming you dont want to get caught, you alone can keep your house in order.

frankly, you are not worth inviting that type of drama, not to mention horrible karma, into my life. since i have no desire to come back in my next life as a dung beetle, i suggest you not contact me again. on the off chance i do want to see you, i can wait till youre single, which, based on the fact that youre emailing me, and your girlfriend knows it (and snoops through your emails), is probably a matter of weeks if not days.

xoxo
v/n

too much effort for a guy im not sleeping with

is having a penis in some way connected to an inability to make plans? does testosterone double as a commitment inhibitor? i realize im not the first single woman to bitch about men's inability to commit (i have a friend who considers his cosi coffee card to be "too high pressure") but, im not talking about a man im dating, im talking about men im friends with (two is still plural. dont judge). the majority of the worlds billionaires are men, as are the majority of world leaders; this creates the illusion that men are planners capable of creating and maintaining a schedule. they arent; all of these men have secretaries and wives who do that for them. want proof? ask a male friend (one not interested in getting in your pants) to make plans for friday, a week from now. its like asking to hold the remote during the superbowl; you can practically smell the panic.

the a.s. and i bought tickets to a show months ago (this only seems to, but does not in fact, undermine my point). ive been looking forward to the show forever, but as of thursday there was still no plan. the show was in baltimore - who was driving? when were we leaving d.c.? is there a designated driver or are we staying the night? if were staying the night, are we getting hotel room? do i want to pay $100 for a hotel room to see a $10 show? what time will we be back on saturday? obviously, no one has ever accused me of being spontaneous or impulsive, but, unfortunately, i dont have the type of schedule that allows for that. i volunteer saturday at 10 a.m. if im not going to be back in time, i need to know well enough in advance to make arrangements. and if im not going to be back by 3 p.m. for work, i need to know who's going to pay me the money im losing.

so, because im me, i harassed the a.s. with phone calls and emails asking all of these questions but received no answer. i also emailed him two weeks ago and again early this week asking him to call me because i might have a conflict and have to bail. in the two years ive known him, ive never once bailed when we had plans. he however, has blown me off every time we were supposed to hang out since decemeber. and stood me up at the coup show which i saw by myself. and the yeah, yeah, yeah show. and the cat power show when he gave my friend and i's tickets to a chick he was trying to bang and left us standing in the cold with no tickets to a sold out show.

finally, he called me back. strangely, friday morning at 12:30 isnt really a good time to chat for me. he left me a nasty voicemail saying he didnt appreciate my lack of notice that i was bailing on him, and that now he had to drive to baltimore alone. meanwhile, the times he's bailed on me ive figured it out on my own after sitting at the bar by myself for more than an hour.

in the end, i bailed on the show... so, maybe this post should really be about over-scheduled-girls-inability-to-live-by-the-seat-of-her-pants, but, i did have a valid reason for canceling (beyond the overwhelming lack of planning). my best friend from college who currently lives in baghdad with her husband was in town for one night. apparently flying half way around the world to attend their wedding in gibraltar means they wont take "im going to a sold out show in baltimore" as a good reason for why you cant see them their one night in d.c.

more on that to come...