Monday, December 04, 2006

Baked Goods Coma

I wonder if what I write will instantly become more interesting if I use a red font. We shall see.

I'm bored and just really really bored. And I think it's the after-effects of a Baked Goods Coma. You have to be careful of that particular kind of coma. They're pretty hard to come out of, if you're not careful. The Crew and I had a baking party. Probably not the smartest move for single ladies around the holidays...gorging ourselves on flour-filled goodness, booze, and self-pity. I've been in a baked goods coma ever since...because, you know, there were leftovers...and I've been carrying them around with me. Like my own little lap dog. Only not a dog at all. In fact, that doesn't even remotely work.

So I'm in a weird spot men-wise. There hasn't been much about Law Student because despite the niceties...there were things that didn't sit well. Swell guy though...at least I thought so. Turns out he's a little odd. Which just cushions my decision...always helpful to a dweller-type person. While we were seeing each other, he was constantly leaving his shit at my place. It never bothered me...it was kind of cute really...how he couldn't seem to keep track of one of the TWO shirts that he brought up for the weekend...or the TWO pairs of boxer shorts, etc. I mean...when packing up the overnight bag...is it really so very hard to count to two when placing the objects inside? Hilarious.

So after I ended it, I thought we were still chums, hoped we were. And when a pair of his boxers fell out of my bed frame when lifting it up with my step-father (awkward), I was greatly amused. And said so in the "shall I pop these in the mail" email. To which I received absolutely no response. Ok...maybe he doesn't want to be chums. That's ok. Too bad...but ok.

That was before Thanksgiving. Saturday night...he calls...well, I can only assume drunk dials...at 1:30 in the AM. I did not answer. I was not alone. Nor was I with The Crew, we had parted ways a half hour earlier. I was with my commitment phobic Ex Sys Admin. I know. I KNOW. But he has a dimple...A DIMPLE. Besides, my bed is piled with junk currently and it was too late to go home to clean it off. And I was tired. TIRED.

Anyway, I didn't answer the phone. Missed the call completely. The next morning, I saw that he'd called but left no message. No message? Who fucking does that? What am I supposed to DO with that?

Damnit, I still haven't sent back his boxers. Well, I'll do that eventually.

On Thanksgiving I got a random and somewhat scandalous text message from Real Estate guy...you know, from back in the Summer. I stopped returning his calls months ago. What is with these guys?

Lately, safe, commitment phobic Ex Sys Admins seem as comforting as laying in front of a roaring fireplace. Which I also did this weekend.

My girlfriends and I spend hours analyzing men. What does this mean, what does that mean. We never get anywhere. We talk round and round til we're back at the beginning, which is usually the statement "What the fuck is up with men?". They, in turn, probably don't give our actions a second thought. Jerks. Equality in all things! Show some healthy levels of female neuroses, menfolk! We deserve it.

I need a muffcake.




15 keep(s) me blogging:

Jen said...

Huzzah for the muffcake! Men are insanity incarnate. Just when you think they like you, or you've decided you like them, they stop taking your phone calls and go out with a girl who looks like Big Bird and sounds like Bert. Sesame analogy aside, they are very much a riddle, and right now I haven't the patience to solve it.

AxAtlas said...

I really hafta comment on this entry: Nice pic!
That's such a non-hipster type of pic you posted.

Kevin said...

That seemed more interesting than things you've written previously. Hmmm, I wonder why.

d said...

yeah, you're right. women are weird, aren't they?

i kid, i kid...

we're all assholes. i can't defend us. but you like that about us.

someone should write a book about the differences between men and women. and they should draw a comparison between two planets. and that person should also never have ever been in a real relationship in their life. now that would make for good reading.

by the way, i don't like the red font. i do like the post, however. so, you know... you win some, you lose some. the point is, i'm walking away happy.

Kara said...

jen - and you shouldn't have to...you're fabulous.

ax - my test came out 95% hipster...which was tragically unhip. I apparently wear too much used clothing.

kevbo - i know, i know, it's not filled with racist slang...but it will have to do!

d - you think you're funny. You think you can just comment on MY blog after not commenting for weeks and weeks????? you're just like THEM! I kid too.

apterix55 said...

Everyone is neurotic to some extent. The difference between men and women is that women are more likely to admit their neuroses; men, conversely, are in complete denial.

BTW, "cozy" is nice but not a basis for a successful long term relationship.

d said...

it hasn't been weeks, has it?

Kara said...

apterix - i know, i know...but damnit...he has a dimple!

d - who knows. sometimes I exaggerate. update your blog! i refreshed and everything!

AxAtlas said...

Yeah, I know your score. I was just trying to make ya feel better.
A dimple? Eh, it's better than the ole' lame explanation "but he's a nice guy!"
oh and "safe, commitment phobic"? explain how those two go together

slaghammer said...

Wow, your post is so, red, and such tiny little letters. I have a raging headache that I’m pretty sure I didn’t have before. Maybe it’s not a headache at all, maybe this is what it feels like when your retinas break free from their moorings and drift aimlessly around the inside of your eyeballs. Btw, the boxers, sweep them out the back door and let the wild animals take them away.

The Future said...

It's good to know you are still capable of making a "cushioned" decision. They are certainly the best kind. The problem with you is, your cushion is extremely thick so you sink further and further and further into it as you regurgitate the the decision again and again. Two words for you, "move on"; no make that four words, "stop dwelling". My two cents.

Kara said...

ax - "safe" = i know everything about him and he everything about me, "commitment phob" = is why he's the "ex". the end.

slag - we don't really have a lot of animals in portland...they'd probably just be taken my some meth head who will think they might look nice on his head. but he shouldn't do that because I'm pretty sure they're not freshly laundered

future - YOU sound like APETERIX

sarah said...

What the f is a muffcake?

Kara said...

sarah - muffin that had sex with a cupcake made the offspring: muffcake.

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