Why Wallowing Gets You Muddy

Nick emailed me after reading a few posts on my other blog.  A friend had (apparently) sent me the link and after reading a bit he decided he HAD to reach out and get to know the writer.

Aside from the extremely flattering nature of someone emailng me out of the blue, there was also the feeling of immediate connection.  Like he must somehow know me better than any other guys who have hit on me because he read some of my innermost thoughts, crawled into the craziness that is my mind, understood me and still wanted to talk to me.

See it’s hard to find a guy who will appreciate a girl who’s kind of techie, a pretty big geek, reads a ridiculous amount, goes for runs on the Boulevard, is passionate about causes and politics to a near fault, a bit crazy and loves board games.  So when one appears to be interested and emails you every day for a week then you walk with a lighter spring in your step and get ridiculously stupid grins on your face whenever your phone lights up with a message.

We were set to go out on our first date at Caiola’s that Saturday.  Not my ideal first date (another post, another time perhaps?!) but a great restaurant and sweet gesture nonetheless.  So I waited  to hear from him on Friday with details.  And I emailed him Friday night.  And I waited all night Friday night.  And I waited Saturday morning.  And I emailed him again late Saturday morning.  And I waited all Saturday afternoon.  And I felt LIKE A HUGE IDIOT THE WHOLE TIME!

I mean, if a boy likes you then he responds to your email, right?  He tries to set up plans to spend time with you?  He makes an effort, no matter how small.  That’s what all the books and movies and gurus tell you at least.

So I texted my friends who were waiting anxiously to see how the first date turned out.  And changed into yoga pants.  And pulled a pint of Ben & Jerrys out of the fridge.  And poured a vat of wine.  Prepared to sulk and wallow and be alone in my own misery of being stood up.

My solitude only lasted for about 2 minutes before I got a text from friends that know me far too wellBe ready in 10 minutes – we’re taking you out

Spicy Redneck Wings, Shipyard and Pickle Chips at Bingas Wingas

What could have been a horrifically pathetic night of wallowing and singular pity parties instead became a fun night out of Spicy Redneck wings, Blanch sauce, pickle chips and Shipyard at Bingas Stadium.  Laughter and time reminded of how much I don’t need to have someone in my life certainly helped me get past the sting of rejection and the ouch of feeling like my feelings were somehow trite and unwarranted.

Because no one wants to feel like they like someone more than the other person likes them.  Or that there must be something wrong with them and that’s why a boy can’t return a frickin’ logistic email. Or wonder what they did to make it end so abruptly.

Nick emailed me the next day.  Oblivious and with some very weak excuse about a dog and a frisbee accident. That somehow took him away from his ability to reply back for 36 hours.

But over wings and beers I learned that I deserve a little better than that.  Like someone who is bummed they didn’t get to see me and eager to make new plans.  And more importantly doesn’t stand you up in the first place.

That’s not so much to ask for, right?!

What is your “being stood up” war story? How did you bounce back?

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