Another follow-up...

I did finally hear from "A". After about 60-some hours in. Just shy of 3 days.

Our conversation wasn't pretty.

I'm going to be immature and post a link to her page on POF. Mainly because I can.

It may very well be a douchey maneuver, but I think she deserves it. And I'll elaborate in a bit.

Feel free to berate her mercilessly, because she really needs to get some things straight in her head.

Here's her profile page.

"A's" Profile.

She messaged me on POF, of all places, despite having my phone number, e-mail, and MSN. And Seemed kind of puzzled as to why communication stopped. As I said in my previous post, I took this time to test her a bit, to see if she would come to me instead of me always having to chase her. I also elaborated on a few other things.

Here's the list:

#1 - The lack of reciprocation. She never paid for anything while out with me. Didn't even offer. Didn't even reach for her purse. I don't mind spoiling, And I don't expect said reciprocation to necessarily be monetary. I certainly didn't expect her to sleep with me. I also had to constantly initiate everything. Always moving past the 50/50 mark...into the 80/20, 90/10 area. She was not quite like this in terms of conversation in-person, she engaged there, but only there.

#2 - There was also the illogic of claiming to be unready for anything serious. But having a profile on a dating site, as well as dating several men besides myself seems antithetical to that statement. And then there's the night she made out with me, in my bed, in her underwear. I sort of got the impression from there on in, that we were heading into seriousness. Not so, according to her. Had she said anything, or done anything other than gasp in pleasure, I would've stopped, and taken the hint.

#3 - Entitlement. In retrospect, I got the sense that after being in an unappreciative, 12-year, relationship that she felt entitled to be chased-after and spoiled by multiple men.

In our first date, I recall her making mention of wanting a "paramour" which was, by her definition, having a romantic partner who spends time with you in a relationship-esque fashion, but there's no sex involved. I just ran a search for the definition of paramour, and that's not the definition(s) I found. I think if any woman out there, including "A", thinks she can get into a pseudo-relationship with a man like that...she's obviously living in a different world than..erm..everyone. The only way I can see it even remotely happening is if the man is gay. Because sex is ALWAYS where relationships eventually go with heterosexual men and women. Perhaps it might work with a lesbian and a heterosexual man, as well.

Anyhoo...

#4 - My issue with her dating multiple men. The issue is not what you might think. I actually suspect that out of all the guys she was dating, I was probably the only one sharp enough to suss out that she wasn't only seeing me.

The flipside is that she could very well have hinted at it to all of us, continuing her fascination with having men chase her. It's all speculation now, but it does fit the pattern. This particular issue ties in with my dislike of her dating philosophy/illogic in #1.

If you date a handful of people, set them up in a kind of competition with each other, and expect none of them to become emotionally invested...you've got to be seriously retarded. I'll be honest, I fell for her like a ton of bricks. Even if I was the only one to do so, that's 30% if she's dating 5 guys. Higher if it's less than 5.

But the worst of it is the fact that she was so vehemently opposed to anything serious, while putting out the signals pointing otherwise. So here we are...a group of guys, all competing with each other for the heart of a girl. The problem is the girl's heart isn't available. It's like running a marathon, but instead of a gold medal, international fame, and big bucks for endorsements...the prize is getting horribly gang-raped by a group of 350 lb. bikers.

Which is obviously no prize at all. At least for most people.

I wasn't quite as long-winded, graphic, or meandery in what I posted to her. But I got those points across, and expressed hope for a rebuttal, and further discussion. Not to mention hope that she would consider improving.

I was summarily blocked.

The truth hurts, I guess.

In any case, fuck "A" in her stupid ass.

A quick follow-up...

Gahh. Can't sleep...again.

49 hours, 49 minutes since I last chatted with "A", the girl who I mentioned in my last post.

Not a phone call, e-mail, or message from her. Knowing that she's online perpetually, either by way of laptop, or her blackberry phone, just makes it sting all the more.

I have no intention of messaging her. I want to, but I'm not going to. As far as I'm concerned, she failed the test.

And such a simple test it was, too. Busy, or not, I don't think it's too much to ask someone to have them drop a quick phone call, or MSN message. Just to keep in touch. Just to show that they think you're worth the effort. I've seen her online, made my presence available online, but there's nothing...just dead air.

Bleh.

My boring-ass life...

Hello Blog, good to see you again.

*shakes Blog's hand*

As usual, I've been neglectful of my blog.

I find it hard to balance work, play, and other life stuff to find time for it. Like anyone, I often come home from work exhausted, and in the mood for eating, followed by a 16-hour nap. And the 16-hour nap is an alien concept for me. As in "that never happens".

Also, my life isn't that interesting.

Alot of the stuff I think or feel is barely even interesting to me, and probably much less so for someone else. I'd be posting things like "I counted 2 groundhogs on the way to work this morning". Or "Work was lame", or "I'd rather be a rich porn star". Redundant stuff.

I've also been busy dating these last 2 weeks. I was excited at first, and having a blast with a girl who seems to genuinely like me (or so I thought). But taking a break from the girl, I've been reflecting on it and how it's turning into me going 90% of the distance, and her going maybe 10. Add to that the fact that everything is more or less controlled by her, and for her benefit. For example, she doesn't want anything serious (whereas I do), and so I aquiesce, not pressing the issue.

I've also paid for everything over the course of 5-or-so dates, bought her shoes (sexy shoes), little trinkets, cosmetics, some edible perfume powder, supper(s), drinks, etc. And all the while she's also been dating a handful of others. I think the only thing she bought me was a Coke.

I am not joking.

I don't imply that my paying for everything entitles me to anything, but in retrospect, it feels as if I'm paying for the pleasure of her company. And that she's entitled to have me do that.

I've also noticed that she never phones me, or text-messages me. I'm always having to engage. All of this is sort of making me think that she does all this to empower herself. An ego boost, if you will. Given her background as an unappreciated wife, I can sort of see where this all falls into place.

And this amuses me not at all. At this exact moment I'm testing this theory, by being actively online while she is, and seeing if she'll even bother to message.

At least I've had some interesting conversations with other people over the course of the day.

Heres the list of topics:

-Should lesbians use dildos? (A conundrum, I think)
-What would happen when we encounter aliens with more than 2 genders?
-The use of the euphemism "foodbaby" to indicate the actions of eating, and later, the need to poop. As in "I ate a sandwich and now I have a foodbaby!".
-How "foodbaby" would make for an awesome name for a terrible band.

Victoriously unhappy...

Got into a semi-deep discussion with my friend, roomie, and co-worker at work, today.

As it occasionally does, it was a discussion based on how I sometimes go about things in an illogical way (which I will admit to when I do it).

Case-in-point, trying to develop romantic relationships. I'm told that I'm not willing to do several simple things to make myself more appealing.

It's true, to an extent. I'm not keen of hitting the gym, but I'm not anywhere near fat...or lazy. I'm not averse to getting a haircut, but I need some kind of idea of what kind of cut to get. I like most of the things I wear (I'm quasi-fashionable), and actually wouldn't mind getting some new wardrobe pieces, etc.

It's all decisions based on variable (and constantly varying) circumstances. And combined with the fact that I don't think there's alot that's unappealing about me, at least on the surface.

Ultimately though, as I tried to explain a bit of my methodology, I simply broke out a personal revelation about myself, and why my relationship attempts fail.

I'm afraid to be happy.

Happiness never lasts for me. Oftentimes it's so fleeting that it can be said to have never happened at all.

I have been alone so long, alienated for so long, that there's a kind of perverse kind of love for my own suffering. I cling to it. I cling to it because it's been the only constant in my life. Unlike friends, family, even possessions, my pain has never abandoned me. And so I cling to it, like a drowning man would cling to a life-preserver in the middle of the ocean. In an uncertain, and confusing world, it will always be there for me.

And because I know that I have problems, I feel a sense of responsibility concerning relationships. On one hand, I want to be in one almost desperately. I would bleed for a honest-to-God "good relationship". I want to be with someone I can trust and confide in, and unveil my innermost secrets, and return that in kind.

On the other, I know that only an extreme few would be okay with some of the things I think, need, or feel. And it's disheartening to keep trying, only to keep failing. And I suspect that I set myself up deliberately to fail. I start to question my value. I ask "do I have anything to really offer?".

And I suspect that I don't...and I can't subject anyone to that.

I try to explain all this, but all my friend does is make semi-jokey comments. And I start to remember why I don't share this type of stuff very often.

I end up feeling totally misunderstood. Like I'm speaking a different language.

And the only one who knows my language...is me.

Champion of Chimp-peon?

I'm not sure if I've ever mentioned that I enjoy MMOs. So far, the best one I've ever played was Lord of the Rings: Online. Though it does sadden me to say that I don't play it anymore.

I've played several others, some good, some bad. I'm currently playing Star Trek Online, and Champions Online.

After a few bad experiences with MMOs I've gotten into the habit of not playing them until their first year of running, just so that many of the bugs can get ironed out. Given that I'm a fan of both superheroes and sci-fi, I broke that cardinal rule, and tried both. I got into Star Trek Online about 1 month after it hit the shelves, and tried Champions Online about 3-4 months in. Champions has been kind of hit-and-miss with me. It was buggy, had lag issues, servers constantly crashing, and creating characters with a good spread of skills was kind of tough because the descriptions of the abilities you were buying weren't often clear. It also doesn't take place in a world I'm familiar with, based on a RPG I've never played. Everything in the Champions universe seems like hodge-podge of homages to practically every sci-fi/fantasy/comic situation or character. Instead of Hulk, you get Grond. Instead of Iron Man, you get Defender, etc. I think there's a fine line between "homage" and "being unoriginal bastards". But after taking a 2-month break, I heard that they had done some revisions, fixed some bugs, applied some patches, and I'm back to my crime-fighting. And might need a 12-step program to quit.

Got a game-related milestone accomplished, too. Leveled a character up to level 25, and made them a nemesis to fight. Yay me! But does this make me a champion, or a chimp-peon?

Star Trek had alot more polish, had kick-ass space combat, and was overall pretty awash with Trekishness. Having watched all the different series' growing up, films as well, it was a formative thing while I was growing up. But I kind of let my fandom of Trek slide for the last few years. Playing Star Trek Online certainly rekindled that. If only the leveling were a bit easier, with less grinding cookie-cutter missions.

I think I have a hankering to play some now.

"Beam me up, Scotty."

Blargle-blargle!

I've thought about posting something for the last week or so. I get moments of inspiration. Like seeing, or thinking something on the way to work. But alot of the time I just get so run-down over the course of the day that I put it off, and forget to post it.

A couple weird things happened, recently.

I've been researching some peculiar, and prolongued, symptoms I've been experiencing. Things like extreme fatigue, A weird recurring buildup on my tongue, chronic pain, problems concentrating, etc. I've got some kind of infection. My research has led me to some form of Candidiasis. I suspect that at some point after a bout with pneumonia approximately 2-or-so years ago, the antibiotics killed what was making me sick, but also stripped my body of all the good bacteria every human being needs to be healthy. And when this happened, other things came to roost, and my beleaguered immune system couldn't fight it off. I picked up some things that should help me regulate, and after taking them for a few days, I feel somewhat improved. Also stopped drinking energy drinks, replaced them with varying fruit juices. Been enjoying the acai berry blend.

Today, at work, I was sweeping up a mess I'd made, and accidentally knocked over the garbage can I was dumping it in to. Most normal people, would say things like "shit!", or "dammit!". I wanted to say those things, but what came out of my mouth was "Blargle-blargle!". Imagine yelling that out, when it was totally not what you were intending to say. I felt like I'd suddenly been dubbed in an alien language.

I gots me a spiffy new bottle of cologne, called Dunhill Desire. I've been having a hard time finding it here. When I do, I'm usually too strapped for cash to get it. But now, I have a very large bottle, and it smells just like I remember it. Just the scent practically makes me orgasm...

...Which is probably not a good thing to mention. A too-much-information kind of thing.

Tough, I said it.

It smells so close to cotton candy. I have to resist spraying it on everything I own.

Now if I weren't STILL having such terrible luck with women, I'd expect that smelling this stuff might actually attract one. But as usual, my wooing skills are insufficient. I'm yet again considering swearing off women. Which isn't really the right way of putting it. It's so bad that I think it's more like women have sworn off me.

Bleh.

Now with more SMRT!

Been away for awhile. Been busy. Between failed connections with women, work, work, and more work, and then studying (more on that later), much of my time has been so gobbled up, I've forgone downloading porn and gaming online. Seriously, no porn, no gaming. For me, someone who normally squeezes in even a few minutes here 'n there, it's like Moses parting the red sea. A biblical event. Maybe I should apply for sainthood.

Ummm. Probably not.

For the last month-or-so, things have become kind of hectic. My old supervisor, a great guy, and a greater boss, was transferred. This event was both a blessing for him, and a curse for those of us left behind. I am glad for him, though, The manager at my location rode his ass like a pony for a year, trying to get him to quit, and couldn't do it. So my hat's off to you, ex-supervisor homie!

A new, more incapable, lazy, useless, fat, stupid...erm...did I mention fat and stupid? And lazy? I suppose I digress. In any case, she is everything that my old supervisor isn't, and never could be. At least not without alot of invasive cosmetic surgery that would turn him into a fat, lazy, woman with arm-jowls, and a penchant for tremendous bursts of irrational, illogical thought. Now I realize this might make me sound like a woman-hater. I'd like to interject that I am not. I just don't get along with fat, lazy, inept people...who, in this case, just so happens to be a woman.

Anyhoo. Where he worked damn hard, helped out, made our lives easier, was a sympathetic human being, and inspired us, etc.. The new one is like the Bizarro-version of him. Where he would see a need for something done, and saw noone capable of doing it, he would jump in and do it himself. Not so, with Chubby McArm-jowls. She'll leave you hangin', while she delegates stuff that's supposed to be her job, and then disappears for 4 hours, upstairs in the office. Presumably to eat small children who have been slow-roasted over low-heat to preserve their juices.

And then there's the irrational, and illogical things she's doing, and gets away with.

My ex-boss, the aforementioned pony, had X amount of hours he could distribute amongst staff. He had to answer for any amount of shrink our department produced, answer for the lack of product produced, and answer for a cornucopia of other things involving the department's day-to-day activity. All of which had him under the threat of being fired. Mind you, not alot of this was justified, as rumor (and the fact the manager is a serious bastard) suggests that the store manager was simply looking for excuses to fire him. In a battle between a guy with over 20 years of experience in a given field, versus a manager with a lifetime experience of nothing else but being one of the purest asshole-douchebag hybrids I've ever seen...well, I'd side with the guy who has field-experience. Apparently that defies logic somehow. Chubby McArm-jowls apparently has free reign to do whatever she likes, with no fear of repercussion. All restrictions my old boss had, she doesn't. And it doesn't take more than a glance to tell she's nowhere near as competent as he was. This past week alone, she ordered waaay too much stock. Everyone told her she ordered too much stock. And this week, when all that stock sat around in the back room, and expired...thousands of dollars of product was wasted. And boy does it puzzle the shit out of me how a person gets away with that scot-free.

Just thinking about all that makes red stuff come out of my nose and ears. Ketchup? Hrm, tastes salty...

I suppose I'll just touch on a few other recent events, while I await medical attention:
-Been working like a dog. Work is Hell. And I've been contemplating quitting in a very serious fashion.
-Met a few women. Got either horribly rejected, neglected, or shown that they were crazy bitches.
-The need for better work caused me to finally get up off my ass and cram for my GED.
-Wrote the GED. Passed the GED. I am now SMRT! Now the job-hunting shall begin.
-I just got woken up by a peculiar dream. In my dream, I was sleeping, and something was entering my room, which woke me up. I couldn't see what it was and threw something at it to make it leave. I then snapped awake. The dream was so real, it took me a minute to realize I wasn't sleeping.
-I think my refrigerator just stopped working. SHIT!