He's Just Not that Into Me...

I had an a-ha moment this past weekend. I learned over the years to stop asking people to come to my shows because well, people say "yeah, I'll totally be there!" and then they flake out. My family is totally included in this list. Everyone wonders "Why don't you ever tell us about your shows?" Gee...I wonder. Which isn't to say this applies to everyone. Just a few. A few people who do it ALL THE TIME. This is why I have adopted the "non-committal" response: "I'll try."

In another note to self: When a guy is leaving the country and doesn't respond to a "have a great trip" text message, he probably isn't all that into you. Similarly, if he doesn't respond to innocent gestures of affection, ie, a hand on a knee, he probably isn't all that into you. Similarly still, if it's been over 2 weeks since he last asked you on an actual date but still wants to make out...all together now: He probably isn't all that into you.

UCK. This last push out of winter into spring is always really difficult. I get so stir crazy and clausterphobic. I fucking hate socks. I hate long sleeves. I fucking hate coats.

And then there's the looming birthday. 32. And no closer to the house, the fence, the dog, the kid, the husband. And yes, in that order. I tell people that marriage is dead to me. And in a lot of ways it is. And there's an even bigger part of me that is so glad that I'm single so that I don't have to deal with the bullshit up there in that second paragraph. But there's still that teenager living in 1956 who's really hoping to get asked to the dance where hopefully I'll get pinned. Tee fucking hee.

Yeah, I gotta get back on my meds here soon.