Feb
My life has been consumed by my new job, the lingering effects of The Entertainers disgusting illness, and a little bit of really really overdue me time.
In conclusion, I’m short on the man stories…newly developing ones anyway. Fortunately in the short span of years since I burst onto the dating scene as a flat-chested awkward ass I have accumulated a big fat sack of them for a rainy day, or icy day, whichever the case may be.
Somewhere around my sophomore year of college I met and became completely and totally smitten with The Computer Nerd. Er…except I had a boyfriend at the time. I behaved myself, shook off the crush aaand… held off until I got another year older (and stupider).
By this time The Computer Nerd and I were close friends, we lived on the same floor of the same apartment building, and all of our friends were good friends. He helped me through an icky breakup (from The Square Peg) and the devastating loss of everything on my hard drive (computer nerds are handy in a pinch). We started hanging out constantly. Every Sunday night he would come over and we would watch our shows and snuggle. It was a good time; we went out to eat, watched a movie or two, partied, all your basic college “dateish” things.
This cute stuff was all well and good with me, but after two months of this The Computer Nerd had yet to make ANY moves on me. That is right. Two college kids living a potentially titillating life of sin, and we weren’t even KISSING!? Grow some cojones son, am I right? Finally, by month three I had had ENOUGH.
One night he hung out in my apartment until 4:00 in the morning and then headed back to his apartment. Still no kiss. After he left I ran around shrieking about the complete absurdity of the situation and his lack of kissing me. I bitched to my best friend about it (best friends are still awake at 4am in college when you need them), and she said “Go kiss him.” I got that wild look in my eye that means you better watch out cause a man is getting hunted down and thought, “Of course, why wait for HIM!?”
I grabbed my cell phone and charged out of my apartment. About halfway between his apartment and mine I began to second guess my plan and called my best friend. I danced around in the hall, shouted, and forged ahead. Upon reaching his door I screeched to a halt. How was I going to get inside? There was no way in hell I was knocking and waking up his 3 other roommates. They were my friends too and…aaawkwarddd. I decided to call him. I managed not to throw up when he answered the phone, and all I said was “Let me in.”
He opened the door.
I pounced with deadly accuracy, pushed him against the living room wall, and kissed him. Maaan did I kiss him! And yes, I really did push him against a wall.
Three months later I found his constant yelling unbearable and realized that all we did was fight. I broke up with him and he cried. Boohoo it was sad. Not it wasn’t really for me, but he was a mess. Pansy. I know that sounds cruel but realistically I can only spend so much time telling someone to stop yelling at me before I realize that I don’t CARE if they yell, they are just going to need to find someone else to yell AT.