offsides chick

Sometimes I google old boyfriends. Just to see. Not my proudest moments, but... whatever. Like you've never done anything embarrassing. I'm not sure what made me think of him, but the other day I decided to look up Chris (fka "Todd" on this blog, but I don't give a shit about protecting his identity anymore). He doesn't do social media except for his sportscaster personality page on FB and a work twitter. And he has a common name so even if he did, I wouldn't necessarily be able to find his personal accounts.

After we ended things back in January 2015, I saw some tweet that made me think he was dating his co-worker the traffic gal at his TV News station. The tweet just said she was pretty, which could have been nothing, but... my gut said otherwise. At the time I wondered if he started dating her after we broke up or if she was the reason for the breakup. Of course she also has a very common name, so I can't find her anywhere on social media either except for her professional page... until the other day when I decide to google their two names together. *side note - I should teach a class on google stalking* And I find their "The Knot" page. They are getting married this summer.

I quickly click over to the "about us" section and see they have been dating since approximately May 2014. Chris and I dated Sept 2014 - Jan 2015. I even double check my old calendar to make sure. Yep. There's my flights to Seattle, his flight to LA, our dates, everything. I feel sick. This is the guy that wanted to spend Christmas with me and my family. But is also the guy who also wouldn't tell his parents about me because he "didn't like his parents nosing in his relationships."

And for a little light reading...

Here is the post about when we met.

Here is the post about our "first dates".

And the one where we were over.

Now the thing is, I was good with the whole situation. I had long ago made peace with the fact that we were not supposed to be together, that long distance was a much too difficult way to begin a relationship, that I deserved someone who made me a priority. I still feel that way. But now it is thrust upon me that I was inadvertently and unknowingly a side-chick.

did NOT know. *facepalm*

Mostly I feel badly for her. I don't know if she knows about me. I don't know anything about their relationship, but in general by the 5 month mark things are fairly serious and perhaps the "L" word has even been bandied about. They would have been dating about 5 months when he started things with me and seemingly juggled two "schmoopies" for a while. If it were me, I would want to know.

where is all started, and the happy couple

For their sake I hope I was a one-time-couldn't-resist-my-charms-fell-momentarily-in-love-but-then-realized-the-error-of-his-ways fluke and he is true to her now. As for me, I'm going to review my intuition see if it needs an overhaul.

Call Me Sherlock

I am a little too good at cyber-stalking. I mean, researching online. If there is something to be found on a certain someone and I want to find it, I will. It's how I found out last year that my ex had a new girlfriend almost immediately after he dumped me. It's how I found out that a different ex (who somehow in five years of dating was never able to take me back home with him) took the very next girl to his high school reunion. I figured out who a guy was from OK Cupid with just a username and a picture. I am very very very good at finding things.

Found them!

But sometimes things are best left un-found.  I may or may not have had a drink or three and cyber-stalked browsed around my ex Todd's social media, which led me to his friend's social media, which led me to a post I really didn't want to read. Ugh!! Bob Newhart really says it best: "Stop it!"

Watch the video. Six minutes of genius. A good reminder to us all.

Someday my prince will come

And it better be soon because Snow White is getting a little long in the tooth.

this just makes me giggle

You might remember how this princess was being courted by a beau who flew her hither and yon and made her have butterflies in her belly. Things were going swimmingly until he decided not to talk to me for over a week because he is "really stressed" and "work is crazy" and "it's not that I didn't want to talk to you"... mmhmm.





I realize people have things that are important to them. Perhaps even more important than my insightful insights, smartypants words of wisdom, loving lovely-ness, and hilarious humor. As for Todd, I am not naive enough to think I would always be his first priority. But you would think I would at least make the top five.

Top Five Priorities:
1. work
2. eat
3. sleep
4. facebook
5. girlfriend

Cowardly Todd* couldn't face the munchkins, er, uh, music

He neglected to tell me he had rearranged his list to look something like this:
Priorities:
1. work
2. other stuff
...
1,000,000,000,000. girlfriend

mmmhmmm. that ain't gonna cut it.

So my tale will remain unfinished with yet another plot twist of moderate proportions. I am officially Tindering my resignation... *winkyface*

Sleepless in Seattle

Actually, I was sleepless before Seattle. Specifically, the night before. Remember the cute boy I met in Vegas? He flew me out to see him... three weeks after. I was nervous, to say the least! How do you sleep when you are going to fly a thousand miles to see someone you met twice while drunk in a city that imbues inhibition, and you've only traded some flirty texts and a few phone calls since?

Gahhhh!!! I'm getting on a plane!!! Gahhh!! It is landing in Seattle!!! GAHHHH THERE IS A GUY WAITING FOR ME!!!!! geez get a hold of yourself.

I don't know if it was the nip in the air (fucking Seattle!) or the copious amounts of booze I drank, but I warmed up to Todd* pretty quickly and the three days was spent laughing and having the best time. Plus I got to see Rachel the pig, Pike's flying fish, salmonell-ebol-hepatiti-gum-wall, a really big Needle, rode a ferris wheel (Bueller... Bueller... Bueller...) and went to a real actual not-fake speakeasy!

and it pretty much looked exactly like this

At said speakeasy, I ordered a drink called "director's choice" aka whatever the bartender wanted to make. I chose vodka and asked him to make it sassy! Well, let's just say it was more than hair whipped back and forth plus two snaps and a twist! Bowl'o'vodka with a dash of habanero. Yeehaw!

It was a whirlwind, and I didn't want it to stop blowing.  But that blustery gale swooped me up and plopped me smack dab back into reality.

Fine. I'll go back to my life. I'll date someone a thousand fucking miles away. I'll take six dates in three days and then no dates for weeks. I'll do whatever I want! (sticks out tongue and PPLBTHTHTHT!) I love being a grown up.

just call me Dorothy (Gale -- get it?)

*name changed to protect the not-so-innocent