Last Stop to Commitment

It seems that I have a miraculous power in helping men to finally commit to their girlfriends-Oh I'm not their girlfriend, but somehow by coming in contact with me they have some kind of commitment epiphany ( Volta, anyone?). I think maybe I should have t-shirts made or why not advertise as a business? "Having trouble committing to your girlfriend? Why in less than one week we can have you proposing in style." This week alone it seems I helped two men.

Do I sound mad and upset? Well good, because I am. Because this goes back to what I was saying about doing a lot of work and being really understanding and what do these guys do, they go for the very woman that sent them my way to begin with, they go for the woman that they were kvetching about and having problems with, whereas I, who bend over backwards to make them happy, I don't even get a wedding invitation.

Thanks so much.

I started off this week feeling good, feeling hopeful, getting about as close to happy as I get, and yesterday, yesterday I was so upset and angry I was kicking my furniture-yes my furniture for chrissakes-I took my hostility out on my innocent writing desk (which is thankfully very resilient) I then went out on a date where I was fairly hostile about men for the first part and then incredibly drunken the second part (he was more drunken). (It was a date with Disney so I didn't really care-although actually I came to like Disney again last night- he has a sense of humor, but I'm not sure whether we are actually dating or not).

And now to make a reference, a reference mind you to a specific situation, one of these men knows I am pissed at him (this is actually very rare for me, generally I don't express my anger directly) but well there are extenuating circumstances I can't go into-but he knows I'm mad at him and what does he do? Nothing, nothing. Not a phone call, not an email, not an im, not even a shout out on the blog. This is how much effort I warrant from him. He wants me to believe that he cares, he just doesn't want to demonstrate any evidence of it.

And this is the thing that gets me upset and pissed and in a little ball of low self esteem, these guys aren't willing to do anything for me. I mean, most of the time even paying for drinks out of the question, but to do something like actually call when they say they are going to, or pay for dinner, or come with me to the park, or a movie, or whatever, these things are apparently way too much of an effort where I am concerned. I can't remember the last time I got flowers, well actually I can, I got fuscia roses a year ago from a gay man. Before that though it's foggy.

That's a lot of anger for this early in the morning.