It hasn't been a thousand years since my last post, but it has been several. And what's more embarrassing is the fact that as of today exactly half of my blog is Twilight rants.
I've been dating a lot lately. I joined OkCupid almost exactly a year ago. I've had some pretty bad luck on that site. The quick and dirty story of it all is: men are TERRIBLE communicators. I have finally shaken myself awake and rid myself of one guy who disappeared off the face of the Earth and randomly resurfaced... three times. But I have had the pleasure of living my own little rom com this week. Maybe I'll write about that later.
I want to tell you, Dear Reader, about Kyle: The Magnificent Disappearing Man. It started on the day of our first date. I should have cut ties with him then, but I may be a bit of a Foolish Romantic.
I was house/cat sitting for my aunt, and Kyle had just moved across the country from California. We made plans to hangout, I bought a Little Caesar's Hot and Ready Pizza. I was super nervous; Kyle and I had been emailing constantly for weeks. I wanted to finally meet my first successful dating site match. 5 o'clock came and went. I put the pizza in the oven to keep warm, and called him. I had to leave a voicemail. More time passed and I hadn't heard from him. I ate some pizza and drank some wine. Did he fall dead in a ditch?
I went back to OkCupid, the source of origin and messaged him in case he lost his phone, but could get to a computer. I don't know how much time passed until he finally texted me, but he did. Hours late. I was just glad that he wasn't dead or in the hospital. He claimed that his roommates were in a car accident, and he had to help them... but I don't understand how he could not have taken 30 seconds to shoot me an apology text after he saw that I had called the first time.
We agreed that we would try again sometime and said goodnight...
This saga is long, and I'm writing this on my phone, so I'll continue it another day. Until then, goodnight Dear Reader, and sweet dreams.
