Y are they so confused?

After continuing our e-courting across about 2,500 miles, I let the Canadian "in" a bit... the first mistake I always make with guys who are actually pursuing anything more than sex. I let him know about my frustration with the distance and how it is obviously a huge obstacle in any relationship - for friends and more-than-friends alike. He called me a pessimist, seemed disappointed at my carelessness with our clear connection and oh-so awesome encounter and insisted we must continue, and that he is willing to try, and why am I not willing?

After hearing what I then-believed to be a genuine portrayal by an adult with desires unobstructed by usual, fickle intrigue, I let myself really like him; mistake number 2. A lowered guard always leads to vulnerability which leads to insistent inadequacy. I mean let's be honest, low expectations are the sure-fire way to being impressed, so why ever believe you'll have more than what you see?

Long story too-short, he'd been too busy to text or call over about four days (because as an executive of a multi-million dollar company, I can attest to the extremely time-consuming and over-bearing task of typing "hello" and the equally exhausting workload of clicking send during a busy day), and so I knew something was coming.

Lo and behold, I was dumped. Again. By someone I was convinced to have more interest in. Again.

I really had nothing to say since I just experienced it with the facebook/post-it dude in April. Although, this was never an actual possibility for anything lasting, with or without the distance. It wasn't "there" and I knew it. It's a weakness I have -It's all or nothing right away with my heart.

But back to my ego and shallow hurt pride: I guess I thought he'd be different. Why do we always think they'll be different?

He claimed he was in "holiday mode" and so he said things that, IN CONTEXT, were true and well-meant, yet the reality of his hard, hard life has set in and truly changed his mind about everything.

He asked if we could still talk, because he doesn't see the point in cutting each other out completely.

I don't see the point in not.

I really suck at not sucking with love. If you ask me, I see too much opportunity with people and what they are all about.

Or maybe most aren't about much more than themselves. Which would be fine, if they even knew who they were.

Apparently this plague is not limited to Los Angeles. Scary...

On an equally doomed note, I met an amazing guy a few nights ago - he's already begun telling me about how I'm so different than his past girlfriends who are just not right for him...

Next!

Blame Canada

I did it. I had a vacation! Two weeks. It was the most random, slutty trip ever.

The plan was a 4 night stay in Vegas for a convention featuring athletes such as myself who are ironically also incredibly heavy drinkers and hard partiers. During one of our all-nighters, we met a gaggle of bougie business types from New Jersey who were there celebrating their best friend's bachelor party. My friends and I were disasters. Sweaty, bruised up from practice and drinking, dressed quite ridiculously - in essence, we didn't fulfill ANY of the pre-req's for "getting in" to this hot spot. But after I exchanged a few ofcourse-eloquent and poised words with the security guard and nearly got the door guy fired, we were all in and treated like some sort of misfit royalty. And for some reason, the group of seemingly stuck up, snotty button-ups took to us. Long story short, I banged the tallest, best looking one. I woke up in a spectacular 5 bedroom suite at the MGM's top floor and had to make the grand entrance into a loud, bustling room of his friends who were already drinking for the next day.

So out I walked, hair a mess, clothing disheveled, phone missing, sans purse, and was myself. I sat down, joined the four robed friends, galavanting in what seemed to be some homo-erotic celebration of their masculinity and self-proclaimed awesomeness. What's funny is, I was embarrassed for them. Fuck my "walk of shame." I wanted to bitch slap the bitchy-ness out of these champagne-sipping pussies and go pound whiskey shots. I refrained from the violence, walked across the street to my party hotel and kept the riots going.

While in Vegas, I received a strange message on facebook: "You keep showing up on my news feed, but I have no idea who you are."

Upon quick inspection, it seemed this guy befriended me about a week prior and I did not accept or deny his friend request, since I had no clue who he was. And so I replied to his message so.

We wrote to each other over the course of 3 days - the messages getting longer, funnier and more in depth with each succession. We exchanged phone numbers and the drunk texting ensued. He wrote that I should go visit him since I was on vacation.

Long story short: He accidentally befriended me since he was looking for his guy friend with my nick name. He lives in Montreal but was visiting Vancouver for a wedding, and I flew to Vancouver to meet this stranger and his best friends.

Safe? Probably not. Fun? Fuck yes.

So off I went. I texted my two closest friends his name and contact info incase I disappeared, and a short message: "This Canadian accidentally befriended me on facebook. He's pretty funny. So I'm flying to Canada tomorrow morning. See you friday."

True to form, I met an amazing guy who it can never go anywhere with... My leading men seem to be growing farther and farther away. If this is any indication of my future in finding a husband, I might as well move to fucking Antarctica.

After three days in Vancouver with the Canadian and his friends, I flew straight to Chicago for my own reunion with a great group of friends. Needless to say, at this point, I had been drunk or hungover for about 10 days straight. Bad decisions left and right... and among them was hooking up with my best guy friend's roommate and good friend who he begged me not to hook up with as it would be awkward for him. I think no one noticed.

My liver is shot, my dignity is dwindling, my slutty phase has now peaked and heartbreak for the Canadian is on the forefront.

Why do guys get so attached to me so quickly when I don't want it? Or ateleast when I'm trying not to?

"Marry me" he says...
"I'm flying you to Montreal" he proclaims...
"I haven't felt this way about anyone in over 3 years" he insists....

No pressure, right?

I'm a mess.