All of the good that won't come out (or how I got the name for this blog)

Monday, August 13, 2007

I had decided to swear them off for a little while. I know that you all have heard it all before. But this time, I was serious. Two bad experiences in a row and I just couldn't take it anymore. But in the back of my mind, I couldn't help but think that maybe this last one wasn't a bad experience. At the same time, I would never know. Maybe I did do something to completely scare the guy off. My sense of humor is sometimes taken too seriously. Here's to falling off the face of the earth. And to never knowing.
So when I got home from work tonight, after having two beers and feeling just giggily enough, I did the usual. Check the email, myspace, away messages of friends. Logged onto match.com. The great thing about technological dating is that they tell you when anyone has viewed your profile. And there was his picture. I was almost offended. Why the hell are you looking at me, butthead?! Get off my page! Bastard. But let's remember who you're talking to hear. I'm sure you know what I did next. I thought to myself: I am so sick of not knowing why. And I wrote a very nice, short email. (You all can stop shaking your heads now, I know how it sounds. But I was two beers deep and very tired. It seemed like the right thing to do. And he had looked at me!)
I basically said, I just want to know what happened. Everything is a learning experience, and that's all that I'm trying to do.
It's funny how quick you can get a response from someone when you aren't looking for a date.
Apparently, there just wasn't anything there for him. Which I can totally appreciate. (But next time leave your guitar at home, bucko. It makes it seem like you care). And I'm charming, personable, bright, a good cook, and "the perfect yankee amiga". Yeah. I know.
So, the conclusion is that I didn't do anything wrong here. And I don't need to swear them off. I am a catch, dammit. And I was fine with closing the book on this one until I read that very last line which will always make me swoon. "Sorry Kris". There's something about a guy that calls me Kris. Okay. I'll stop now.