From Ghosting to Haunting me

32382F31-C93F-407B-BFA1-D143505AA95FYou know what sucks? Sleeping with someone on the first date because you’re hoping the dick will make up for their personality, and then you realize it’s worse. The worst part is when you hug goodbye, and they say “See you later!” Really?? I seriously hope not. I don’t want him to get Coronavirus and die or anything, but please don’t try to talk to me again. Thankfully, that hasn’t happened much, but it’s certainly occurred. However, I will tell you a story even worse than that.

I went on a date, and right off the bat, we were clearly not compatible. It was like a guy from Tiger King trying to hold a conversation with someone who has common sense. He wanted to turn almost everything into a debate, and he was kind of a dick. Turns out, I like dicks though. So, after a few hours and drinks, we go back to his place because he was a douchebag and I have daddy issues.

He invited me to spend the night, and said it was the first time he let a girl sleep over his place. I took it as a compliment, assuming he was a heterosexual male and wasn’t having guys over like a gay Hugh Hefner. The next morning, I hugged him goodbye and said, “See you later!” because the dick was indeed significantly better than his personality. I looked at his face and I was all too familiar with his expression. I knew what he was thinking…. Really?? I don’t want her to get coronavirus and die or anything, but … Needless to say, he pretty much ghosted me, and I was slightly salty about it.

I remember during my stumble of pride home, (I prefer to say that instead of walk of shame.) I thought about how awesome his apartment was. The view was beautiful, perfect location, and great interior. My internal dialogue went something like “Damn, I wish I lived there. Well, who knows, I’m sure there’s a place I can move into when my lease is up that I like just as much, and maybe cheaper.”

When time came for me to move, I posted on a Hanoi housing Facebook group, and instantly was contacted by a woman who I made plans to meet for a showing the following day. She gave me the directions and it seemed almost as familiar as that guys expression after I said “See you later!” I will call that guy Daddy Alex for anonymity which isn’t too far off from what his name is in my WhatsApp contact list.

You know what apartment I just moved into? You guessed it. Not only am I in the same building, but I’m in his old apartment. So, he may have seemed good for nothing, but at least he let me give my apartment a test ride. (PS I got a discounted rate due to the pandemic and the Jew in me is thrilled.)

Here’s the catch. Come to find out, he moved right next door so he could have an apartment with a porch. Daddy Alex went from ghosting me to haunting me. I’d be lying if I said it didn’t bother me that he hasn’t tried to make a move. Especially considering he’s still single and has brought a girl back to his place before. Can’t really complain when I get more ass than him though. I could easily have been in his room tonight. It also bothers me to admit I’d give him a 5 star rating for his cuddling abilities alone. I would never tell him that because his ego seems bigger than the food baby I get after I go to a vegan buffet.

He’s initiated conversations a few times since I moved in a month ago. I dropped some subtle hints that I’m here for a good time, not a long time, but still nothing. I wish there was a way he could know that I’m not looking to go on long walks on the beach, just a night in his sheets… Or two or three.

As much as my ego and other parts of me want that, this very well could be for the best. Although you never know what could happen, I can see that scenario easily not ending well. If I can manifest that apartment for a better deal, I can find me a man that’s a better fit.

 

Is It Bad That I Don’t Feel Bad?

D53AAA57-6B3C-4B89-B3CF-1C6FA799F7A8I don’t experience much drama in my life. I find a lot of joy in taking the high road and avoiding it. Not in the “I’ve done too much spiritual healing to lower my vibration to that level of douchery.” Kind of way. Though that may be true. It’s more like I’m too old for this shit and I really don’t give enough fucks. However, someone gave me one too many lemons recently, and I felt inspired to make some super sour, tasty, lemonade. Is it bad that I don’t feel bad?

Last week, I posted a rather controversial blog post. Basically, I put someone on blast in a rather savage way, and his friends were not pleased to say the least. It had nothing to do with them, but they were personally offended and hurt that I would call him out so publicly. Now, the goal was never to hurt someone, nor do I want to do that. If it does hurt someone, than I sincerely hope they feel better. I still enjoyed my lemonade.

I’m glad he gave me lemons because I learned a lot through the whole experience. I never blamed him for the frustration I felt because it was me who created the feeling. It’s true that if he didn’t exist, I wouldn’t have felt that way, but ultimately my feelings are my own doing. Being triggered by something, whether it’s from being royally fucked over, or a blog post, is a tremendous opportunity to reflect, heal, and find the silver lining.

My blog has always been about finding the silver lining in the bullshit, and being raw while sprinkling in some sass and comedy. To me, there’s no better way to let it all out and move on than that. Look, I never said I handled this situation perfectly. I’m not perfect. This blog’s subtitle is called “The Journey To Become More Zen As Fuck”. Not “I’m Zen As Fuck.”

Again, to anyone who may have been offended by my last blog post or this one, I hope you feel better and genuinely want you to be happy. That said, that is how I made my lemonade, so maybe you should spend your time reading something else. Although, to be fair, unlike my last blog post, most of them aren’t about how annoying I think another human is.

In short, I am unapologetically me. If you try to make me feel bad about making lemonade, I’ll sip it with my pinky up, and offer you a glass to cool down. I care about people, and don’t want to be what caused someone else to feel triggered. However, if me living my life authentically causes someone else to feel that way, I hope they make the best of it and come join me with their lemonade when they’re done. Maybe we can add a shot of vodka in it together.