11.19.2013

Eureka.



Exclamation: a cry of joy or satisfaction when one finds or discovers something.

I know, two posts in one day? Bear with me as I’ve been home ill all day. I’m the person who wishes the weekend were longer but who would actually be bored if it was.
As I was watching Kanye’s new music video for Bound 2 (which I find romantic in a dirty mind kind of way; which is probably yet another reason why I’m single), I realized why my date must have been scared off. It has to be because I admitted to watching Jersey Shore (and liking it). I’m not ashamed, Snookie makes me laugh.
Also, I watched the movie “Frances Ha” today and immediately needed to share this because I completely connected with it (ignore the Spanish subtitles, unless you're Spanish; I fail at technology and couldn't manage to find any other video of this particular clip):



Which might explain why I am single now. Ha, ha.
Merde.

 
 

Ring Finger.



Wikipedia: The ring finger is the fourth proximal digit of the human hand, and the second most ulnar finger, located between the middle finger and the little finger. It is also called the digitus medicinalis, the fourth finger, digitus annularis, digitus quartus, or digitus IV in anatomy. It may also be referred to as the third finger.

I can never seem to pay attention to this detail. I’ll meet a man, gain an instant crush and although I don’t even know if I’ll ever see him again, I obviously describe his every feature to my friend. Who will in turn ask, “Did he have a ring on his finger?” UGH.  I always forget to look. I gather it is because I still imagine myself to be twenty-one surrounded by non-married males. Also, it’s not like men wear a piece of diamond  that can’t be missed. In addition I’m always nervous that staring at ones hands that is of the opposite sex could be quite obvious.

Searching for a ring from across a room while doing yoga is near impossible. I need to at least figure out if hot yoga guy is single aka not married. Not that it really matters because I won’t ask him out. Although it could make for an interesting conversation during vrksasana (tree pose). Kidding.

A fact I did discover last week, however, is that hot yoga guy actually teaches a spinning class at my gym on Tuesday evenings at seven PM. The problem is I have never done a spinning class. I cannot risk taking his class and looking like a fool, can I? Perhaps I can hide in the back of the class; it would allow me a sixty minute period of straight on staring where I could definitely determine if there is a ring, or lack of.

Is this what my life has succumbed to?
Should I or should I not stalk a spinning teacher.
Merde.

The photo is from  http://erstwhilejewelry.com/, if every you would like to propose to me, please purchase my ring finger jewelry from this site.

11.10.2013

Déjà vu.



Noun: A feeling of having already experienced the present situation.

This morning I awoke to some pretty intense text messages delivered to my phone five hours earlier at approximately five AM. I’m not sure if they were drunken messages, as there were no spelling errors. The (younger) guy who once gave me the book for my birthday with the handwritten noted basically confessed he was still in love with me. He had already once told me that at one point in the past he had been in love with me, but I didn’t believe it. I think I still don’t understand how someone can be in love. How do you know?
My initial reaction was shock. I then felt guilty. I preferred being the half who got hurt, not the one who hurt someone; it was just easier to be unwanted than to have to reject. His last message stated that he didn’t think we should be in contact anymore. In all fairness, before seeing each other at my birthday (four months ago), we probably hadn’t seen each other in over a year. We occasionally text, but I will respect his wishes as I know what it feels like. The last thing I wanted was my response to make me come across as a jerk (as someone else’s had to me). I kept it short, apologizing for making him feel that way and for being so oblivious. I told him the last thing I wanted was for him to feel bad about talking to me so I wouldn’t message him anymore. He didn’t reply; I didn’t expect him to.  

I need a vacation from testosterone.
Lately it seems as though my life is full of male drama; I can’t deal.
This is why I stay single.
Merde.