My Random Cupcakes

It's been awhile

2010-12-21T12:15:00.000-08:00

And I've got some doozies. Really, where do I find these guys??

up next... The Perfect Cupcake.

The not-a-break-up, break up

2010-08-09T16:19:00.000-07:00

If it's not a 'break up', what is it?

You haven't had "the conversation." Yes, THE conversation. You know the one I'm talking about...are we [gulp] boyfriend and girlfriend? The subject hasn't been vocalize, the status-quo has hit a point of definition. You continue to regularly see each other, but without any commitment. So what are you? And more importantly, what do you do/say when you want out?

Dating Defined:

Friend = someone you WILL NEVER sleep with, nor want to sleep with
Acquaintance= someone with the potential to either sleep with, ignore or kill
Antiquer = someone you have slept with in the past, and can in the future - ANTI-RELATIONSHIP type need only apply
Buddy = someone you like and would sleep with, eventually
Date = New pereson with "SW" [sleep with] potential
Seeing = someone you've slept with more than once within 2 weeks
Dating = someon you've slept with more than twice in one week
Boyfriend/Girlfriend = after "The conversation" decision has been made*
* NOTE: cannot claim this distinction WITHOUT an agreed upon end to "The conversation"

So, if you have been "seeing" a guy for 4 months, NO you are not dating. You've been fucking, sweetheart. Hate to break it to you. And after two months, if there is NO conversation....SEE YA! No reason to stay. They've had their way and are already getting bored, I can promise.

But what initially got me started on this is when you are done with SEEING/DATING/ANTIQUING. How do you reference the person? How do you reference the end?

And there in lies the point, I know the dating lingo, but what the fuck is the 'break-up' lingo?

If I went my entire life just SEEING someone, has anyone every broke up with me?

The Short Cupcake

2009-10-30T11:06:00.000-07:00

The Short Cupcake

-----------------------------------------

Age: 26

Height: 5' 7"

Hometown: Valencia, CA

Best Quality: Tattoos

Things in my life were starting to turn around. It had been about 6 months since Jake and I stopped seeing each other and finally I was getting a sense of self again. I’ve always been one to opt for staying at home rather than going out to some bar to try and mingle; my roommate Rachel however, was a social butterfly.

Before moving here I lived by myself for 5 years, and I LOVED it. There is nothing better than coming home to your house and having nothing and no one to answer to. Clothes on the floor? Who cares! Dishes not done? So what! Don’t want to go out tonight? Screen calls! No one knew what I was really up to (which was nothing more than a TV dinner and TV 90% of the time).

Living with Rachel was the complete opposite. While I spent 8 hours at work expending my energy on being the”light:” in the office, Rachel spent her days staring at a computer listening to music. She is a designer, working from home, who is in her head all day storing up energy. I’m Director that has to be constantly on my toes and have a smile on my face whilst being amazing. It truly sucks the energy out of me by day’s end. So, when I’m done working all I want to do is be left alone. Rachel on the other hand wants to socialize. It was a problem immediately after Jake and I broke up because I just had no motivation to get out of the house. Don’t get me wrong, I loved my new city. I was finally doing something for myself by moving to Los Angeles. Up until the last year I had done everything my older sister had done; same college, same sorority, same major, same career aspirations, I moved to same city as her after college, etc. Doing something she hadn’t, gave me my own character and I treasured that. Regardless of loving LA or not, I was in “rebuilding” mode not so much “outgoing” mode. Most of Rachel's exciting offers to troll around the city from bar to bar were met with the usual "Uh, maybe."; only to have me decline at the last moment. In the last six months, I watched her worry for me turn into frustration at the lack of interest I had in enjoying any sort of social life.

One day Rachel suddenly comes bursting through my bedroom door, ruining a perfectly good Saturday afternoon nap of mine, screaming, “Maggie!! Wanna join a Dodgeball league?”

I’m an athlete. I’m a winner. Put those two things together and I’m either an asset or an annoyance (I can be pretty serious) for teams. But most of the time, I’m an asset because I win. I love team sports. And I’m good at almost all (soccer not included). I shot out of bed “OH MY GOD! Fuck yes, I do!”

I grabbed my wallet and we signed up online with a friend of Rachel’s whom she knew from her days in NYC. Tara had moved to LA about the same time we had with her long-time boyfriend. I had gotten the impression that they were not doing so well together, but that could be just me playing story time with people's lives. Only time will tell, right?

The next Monday the league started and I had no idea what to expect. Dodgeball? I haven’t played dodgeball since the 5th grade. Ugh, and i think I was....bad at it. Oh no! I played softball almost my entire life, so I knew I would be relatively alright. Plus, I was more interested in how my unathletic, uncoordinated, 6’1 roomy would handle the sport. I don't have to be the best player in any given sport, I just CANNOT be the worst. It would pain me.

We walked into what looked to be utter chaos. What seemed like 1,000 balls flying through about 30 sweat-soaked grownups. The gym was small and enclosed on all sides except for the stage on the far wall.  The walls of the gym being right at the basketball court perimeter, so people were using the sides to make amazing wall-jump-throws across the court. Are you freakin serious?  And to think I was afraid of those 8th graders back in the day. People running, jumping, throwing, getting hit left & right, catches, face shots. This is nuts! I like my face. It was extraordinary, and too quickly it was our turn to start playing.

Rachel and I grabbed a loose ball on the ground to start warming up. Just as I suspected, she was a terrible thrower! Her throws were extremely high, very wild, and she had absolutely no form. Ha! I'm not the worst! Rachel threw another wild ball that bounced off the side wall and ricocheted across the court. As I was returning from shagging the errant throw, a guy who was also warming up for the game glanced over to me as I was walking back. He suddenly gave me the weirdest look. Strange enough that I will never forget it. It was like I could read his mind for a moment. When he initially glanced at me, he seemed to do a double take. Along the lines of seeing a stranger as you are walking down the street, casually glancing at them but then you suddenly realize you may know that person; it’s like a light turns on in the person’s face. But this was not so much in the “Wait, do I know you” category, but more like “Whoa, wait. Who. Are. You?” At least that was the impression I got.

Alright, Rachel & I were two of 5 girls there…. so the competition was lacking. The other three girls were – by appearance only- batting for the other team, if you catch my drift. So I could understand his surprise seeing a good looking chick at a dodgeball function. I mean I don’t go to Sizzler expecting to see my Robert Pattison there; that’s just silly. But, imagine my surprise if I did see him….swoon.

I'm getting off track...

An hour of dodgeball and an unexpected workout later, an announcement was made to hit up happy hour at a bar down the street. Neither one of us knew any of the other people but we followed the band wagon to a Hollywood staple, Big Wang’s. A pitcher and a half later, all 15 or so of us were the best of buds. I met such random characters from all different places and backgrounds. In fact, my funny-little-glance mate and I were talking up quite the storm once an introduction and 3 beers took effect.

“You just moved here, egh? I grew up down by San Diego so I'm pretty much a local.” Shane said. His name was Shane Reecer and it was also his first season of dodgeball. He had dark, hazel eyes and was certainly a decent-looking guy with a full, trimmed beard and died black hair; though quite short (5’7”). He had some major tattoos on his upper arms and shoulders and I couldn't help but find them fascinating and attractive. I immediately ruled him out on the shortness factor alone. I have not and will not date someone shorter than myself (5’9”). I wondered why I immediately thought about dating him. Normally I just automatically assume a guy like this, short, knows his level…and I’m above it…pun intended.

“You look like a Republican.”  He said to me as I was finishing a conversation with another person across the table about the upcoming election. “I bet your parents are Republicans too. Do you even listen to other’s point of view or are you just too brainwashed from your upbringing?”

I turned immediately towards him, noting the “oh, no you didn’t” look coming from Rachel’s face, and said, “I’m sorry, what did you just say to me?”

“I asked you if you’ve actually ever given thought about why you are a Republican. I bet it’s just because that is how you were raised. I mean, I don’t blame you.” he finished with a smug smile.

“Look, I don’t know who you think you are talking to, but I know exactly why I am a Republican. I like my money. I would like to keep it. The less the government has their greedy little hands in my well-deserved, cookie jar, the happier I am. It sure isn’t like the government is a well functioning mechanism for social programs; they breed laziness and self-entitlement and they diminish hard work and capitalism.” I replied calmly. (Never bring anger or signs of frustration to an argument, about politics especially. It just makes you look unprepared and desperate.)

“Spoken like a true asshole.” Shane replies.

It’s alright Maggie. Calm down. Give it right back. He wants a reaction out of you. Think. Be smart.

I took a breath and said, “Don’t come at me with your Napoleon, short man complex to bully me into a self-righteous political stance because you think you are a humanitarian. Your party claims to be for the people, but yet do nothing but exploit those who support your party. But I wouldn’t expect you to understand any of that, seeing as you are suffocating by your enormous cloud of delusion.”

He stood there, mildly shocked at my comeback.  Smiled and finally said “I’ll cut you, Republican.” And then turned, walked out of the bar and I’m guessing, home.

The next day at work I was again pretending to be busy, but really just tooling around on the internet and BING – an instant message arrives.

MAKERS213: hello my republican friend

AGGIEMAE: who is this?

AGGIEMAE: oh lord. wait, shane?

MAKERS213: that’s right.

MAKERS213: I hope you know it is my goal to talk some sense into your political views

AGGIEMAE: that isn’t going to happen from you, im pretty sure. sorry.

MAKERS213: that doesn’t mean I’m not going to try love.

Uh, LOVE? That's really weird.

We chatted for a about an hour. Work was slow and I was killing the last hours of the day with this ignorantly arogant shorty. We mainly tradied flirty insults the whole time. I had to admit, he was really fun to talk to being the perpetutal smart ass he was. But I didn’t want to give him the impression I was interested in anything other than just some daily IM banter to pass the work hours, so I would drop subtle hint like “you’re too short for me”, "you come up to my knee, man!" or “I don’t date beneath me” but it just seemed to slide right off of him like it was never said. I wish us females were like that. Insults (even teases) tend to linger in our heads.

Every day, like clockwork, MAKERS213 would IM me, engage me in random topics, ask my advice and opinion, or just tease and flirt with me throughout the day. Man, this guy was really falling for me. After a couple of months, it just got to be too much. EVERYDAY he would say something to me, so I just blocked him online. Sounds harsher than it really is, but it just means they can’t see you online, rather than them being blocked from IMing you.

Then the text messages started. They were few and far between, but always made me laugh. Eventually he found an in with me in a conversation we were having about cooking.

The next month we continued to IM daily and see each other at dodgeball weekly. He never did come out to the bar after the games, blaming work for not allowing mid-week fun, so there wasn’t nearly as much interaction in person as there was online. In person there were hellos and some smiles, maybe a nod, maybe a “good work” or a “nice job” during the game. I don’t know if it’s me, but why is it when I start to get to know someone over the internet (not meet, just correspond), whether through IM, email or some facebook, it’s like the internet conversation never took place when we met in person. The flirting, the information gained, intimate details of life, everything is immediately erased in person like it was an imaginary or fake conversation. I feel it’s like taking 20 steps backward when you see them next because really you DON'T know the person yet. But there is a face-to-face repertoire and a computer to computer one. Both very different and very strange. Could be just me, I am socially awkward at times.

Then the text messages started. They were few and far between, but always made me laugh. Eventually he found an in with me in a conversation we were having about cooking.

Maggie: I don’t cook
Shane: well you’re going to need to learn if you want to keep a husband
Maggie: id rather play Mario Kart, any day
Shane: I’ll school you in Mario Kart.
Maggie: ha, you fool.
Shane: and then I’ll kick your ass in Connect Four
Maggie: you wont. nor could you ever…
Shane: Sunday then
Maggie: maybe
Shane: ok, maybe. I’ll just be sitting here waiting for you to grow some balls.

Maggie: and I bet nothing gets you going more than a big set of balls.

Sunday rolled around and I was dreading the afternoon already. Shane had texted me that he, would of course, beat my ass in any game then cook me dinner just to prove his point. Ugh. I didn’t want to sit at some guy's house I barely knew while he tried his hardest to woo me; politically and more likely romantically. So I sent him a flake text message about having a bad day and that I wasn’t up for it.

Maggie: Not having the best of days. Not gonna make it tonight. Raincheck.
Shane: I so called it

My immediate reaction was to reply back with a bitchy 'you-don’t-know-shit' message but thought against it. I just left it alone. I mean, who does he think he is? If I didn’t want to go hangout somewhere, that was my business. I only do things I want to do, not what others expect me to do. Wait, I think I DID do what he expected me to do... I flaked! Damnit #2

For the next week, I could NOT get the “I so called it” text message out of my mind. This guy, one I had absolutely no interest in, one that I had stopped daily communication with, and one I constantly teased (but really was stating the immediate truth) about being way too small for me, the same guy who barely knew a thing about me... actually got me. He nailed it on the head. He knew I’d flake. I knew I’d flake.  Coupled with the fact he did not hestitate to call me out on it, baffled me for some reason. Maybe no one else had before?

And that’s how the itch begins, suddenly, without notice. I was finally intrigued by Mr. Avines.

Once an itch starts, it grows exponentially. From one day being a bit intrigued as to who a person is to flat-out scouring the internet for any such information on them; the itch starts to take on a life its own until you get to the official “crush” stage. Aww, a crush! The butterflies when you talk to or hear from him, the giddiness when you know you are going to see them, and these days checking his social sites; cross-referencing his posts to your posts because you think he’s, in a way, saying it to you. They are glorious and terrible all at the same time. I knew the moment it was crush; it hit me like a wall.

On just another normal day, I had posted a picture on my site that I swiped from some random person's page that showcased me front and center, playing dodgeball. It also happened to be that Shane was in the picture standing right behind me, along with about 10 other people.

As a caption to the picture he writes, “God. You’re so in love with me”

I couldn’t help but laugh out loud when I read it, so hard that the folks at work inquired as to what was so funny. I couldn’t stop laughing. In love with him? Pffft!

From that moment on, for some reason, I always had a smile on my face while talking to him. Needless to say, but I unblocked him from my instant message. The giddies had arrived out of nowhere.

* * *

Shane and I would IM most days and hangout on the weekends. I would head over to his place to watch TV, drink some wine and have some fun with each other. One night he even brought out the Connect Four to “kick my ass!” He prefaced our game with the following announcement:

“I am the best Connect Four player. PERIOD. No one, well maybe one person, has beaten me! I hope you are ok with losing because I hold back for NO ONE!”

“Oh, please. Let’s get this started” I replied.

Beating him 5 out of the 7 times was sweeter than any other victory I can remember experiencing. He finally relented on his theory that I was just lucky after the 5th time. It was like I could do no wrong. His shit talking and my having not played Connect Four since middle school, the victory tasted glorious. I WAS CONNECT FOUR!!

I looked up at Shane after my I had finsihed gloating and we were both laughing. I realized then that for the first time in almost 3 years, I was very happy and Jake had nothing to do with it. Before when I was going through the heartache, I never realized how sad I was. How down about myself I was. Shane, the shorty, took me away from Jake, distracted my mind and freed me from the idea of never being able to find someone to connect with new; something that I considered IMPOSSIBLE over the past 2 years.

Shane and I had been “seeing” each other for about a month when I started to get a funny feeling about the situation. It wasn’t like I wanted to marry him or even for him to be my boyfriend; I still was on the fence about him, still working out the hurt Jake had left behind. I was only mended, not healed. But our daily IMs started as almost all day long to maybe every other day. And the weekends would pass without an invitation out somewhere or a check-up text. The next think I know I'm thinking up ways to say something to him, to engage him so he will pay attention to me. That's is when you know you in trouble. When I tried engaging him once or twice, I'd usually only get mildly funny and/or blow off responses. Something had changed.

I tried not to let it bother me much as the days went along. But of course it actually infuriated me. I mean, what’s not to like about a tall, good looking, funny, smart, athletic girl who you have fun with? What is his problem? He should be thanking his stars that I actually don’t care that he is 5’7”. I was consumed by the whole situation. The guy baffled me. What I thought was a sure thing (him falling madly and irrevocably in love with me) wasn’t at all. I had no idea where he stood when it came to me, to (gulp) us. It had been months, I should know by now… HE should know by now, right? If I were to read his actions towards me, and make a guess from that information…HE WAS TOO CONFUSING! The signs point in all different direction!

For instance:

One night I headed to a bar for a small night out he and his friend Craig put together to celebrate their 2 year friendship anniversary (yes, I thought it strange myself…but its LA people). Shane insisted all day I go; this was a GOOD day where he talked to me online all day. So I agreed.

Up until this point Shane and I had really kept our “relationship” between us. We talked online, hung out alone at his place or took our dogs hiking up in Griffith Park; so there wasn’t much combining of each others’ lives. I didn’t know his friends and he only knew my roommate (from dodgeball). Rachel was out of town this evening so I was forced to do the one thing that gives me the most anxiety on the planet…showing up somewhere new, not knowing anyone… to meet a crush. UGH, terrible.

As all of our hangouts were casual, I was planning on looking hot tonight! I love my heels, I love walking into a bar being one of the tallest people inside. But this man was SHORT and with my 4 inch heels, he would be so tiny! Needless to say up until this point, I had always opted for flats. Tonight for some reason I thought they would make him proud. A 'that girl is into me!' type reaction. I put on a cute purple dress, wrapped a belt around the high waste and threw on my new hehes (high heels) I had bought for the occasion.

The bar was dark and lit with candles. It was called The Cave, and had just that vibe to it. The walls were textured like rock, though painted a cream color. Inside the foundation pillars looked to me like upside-down elephant trunks at the top, but I believe they were channeling the calcium deposits you would normally find in an everyday cave. The actual bar lined the back wall and was the only part of the joint that was lit up, other than the table candles and some dim wall fixtures. I found my party in the left corner, being there was no other groups in the joint and scanned for the one person I knew. Shane was nowhere to be found. So true to my feared nightmare situation…I am standing in front of 15 people, all staring up at me from their seats wondering, “Who is she and what does she want?” Finally after what felt like 10 minutes of straight on, pure judgment from the group (but was probably more like 10 seconds of confusion on their part), Zac stood up and said, “Oh Maggie! Hey! It’s Zac. Come here, sit down. Who do you know here?”

Zac was a friend of Shane’s that I had forgotten I had met. Rachel and & I had gone with Shane and Craig to a bar after dodgeball one night to eat pizza and drank some beer. Zac had met up with the guys at the bar. I was surprised that I didn’t remember because Zac and I had gone to the same college. And him being a tall black man, raised in Southern California, it had shocked me he picked somewhere in Central Texas to attend college.

“Oh, Shane asked me to come join and I didn’t really have much going on so I thought this would be kind of fun, seeing as these two are having a party to celebrate themselves. Sounds like something I would do.” I said.

“Of course. I just didn’t realize you all were friends.” he laughed.

“We take our dogs hiking; he’s the only one I know with a dog in LA. Which is weird because it seems like everyone walking down the street has a dog.” I casually said. I didn’t know how to respond to Zac's observation. Why would I be here? It is all his close friends; I hope I didn’t say anything that he’ll get annoyed by. There I went again, worried about something I would say to upset him. Sometimes I REALLY hate being a girl.

Finally Shane walked into the group from were ever he had been hiding and came up and gave me a hug when he saw me. It being their "anniversary" and all they were in full on tuxedos for the occasion. These boys sure go all out. As he saw me, he smiled and headed in my direction.

“Whoa! Brought out the big girl shoes tonight! Nice!” Shane commented as he stared up at me.

“Thought I’d put you in your place when you needed it. If you don’t like it, I can just squish you.” I teased back.

Shane laughed and after an awkard silence I excused myself to get a drink.

The rest of the night went alright. Photos were taken but I effectively ducked out of them (I didn’t want a record of being there), some charades were played (seriously) and we all got a bit tipsy. Shane had avoided me almost the entire night. But with it being his close personal friends, I didn’t mind too much. I liked getting to know his friends, and I like his friends falling in love with me. There aren’t many people I meet that get a bad vibe from me, so winning over the “friends” is always cake for me.

Towards the end of the night, after I had chatted up pretty much every person but the one I wanted to, I walked up to the bar to grab my last round. As the drink was being poured I hear, “You look really good tonight, Maggie.” I turned my head to the left to see Shane standing about 3 people away from me, just smiling.

“Thanks Shane. Love the tux. Very bold of you! I'm getting a last drink, you want one?” I was high on the compliment and ready for our time to hangout together.

“I love you.” he said without missing a beat.

Shocked, weirded out and confused, I managed to reply “Thank you.” But not without the lingering question…

WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT ABOUT?

* * *

Over the next month….yes, I said month…Shane and I continued our little dance. When I mean dance, I mean – me trying not to freak the fuck out about being in an unanswered situation.  We would talk on a daily basis, hangout and of course, fool around when we were alone together. I never slept with him; maybe that was what was holding things back. But I was most definitely getting antsy about the situation. Why wasn’t he all about me?

I kept kicking myself for liking him. He was so sarcastic, enough so people could consider his jibes mean. Rachel couldn't stand him due to his mouth, yet that made him even more attractive to me.  On the flip side he was cute and attentive and always made me smile. He would say things randomly like, “I could kiss you” when I impressed him or start the day with a morning "how are you, love?" message or randomly say “you’re perfect” when I would make fun of myself. My personal favorite was when he laughed at something I would say because it took a lot to make the guy laugh; or at least admit to laughing, he was very cynical.  But the less attention I got from him, or even if the attention was not AS MUCH as I wanted, it started to feel like I was desperate for him to like me. I just refused to believe - and this is going to sound terrible – a guy like that wouldn’t like a gal like me…IT WAS IMPOSSIBLE. I must be reading the signs wrong, right?

At the revelation of my desperation to figure out what exactly he thought about me, or us “dating” (not that THAT word had ever been used before) I noticed myself getting really bitchy and borderline abrasive towards him. I was starting to resent the fact that us hanging out together was just what it was and hardly, if ever talked about between us. I didn’t want to bring anything up because I was just having fun with a guy I liked. But why wasn’t HE bringing up the subject? When was HE going to get antsy about me?

Monday rolled around and I hadn't seen Shane over the weekend because I had been visiting old friends in Texas.  I had managed to shoot quite a few drunken texts over the weekend. By 3pm I had not recieved anything from Shane and was getting a tad ansty my weekend texts had crossed whatever imaginary line our situation had in place. I didn't hear anything from him all day until that night when he called, which is definitely something new. See, Maggie, it's all in your head. He does like you!

"Hey there! So Matt from our team, you know how he made that movie?" Shane begins. Matt was indeed a dodgeball acquaintance that had talked about a movie he directed and shot. His parents had forked over $250,000 to finance the production, hoping their son would get a break from some film festivals. Well, unfortunately for them, the film did not do so well. In fact, I believe it didn't do anything. "Well the movie is called 'SHORT TUGS' and I found it Maggie! A friend of mine runs a film festival that they submitted the movie to a couple of years ago. Want to come over on Wednesday night and watch it with me? You can bring your dog... Come on!" Shane said uber confident.

"No freakin way! Are you serious? Yes, I defintely have got to watch that. This is going to be hysterical!"

Now this is how a week is suppose to start! What was I worried about earlier? Stupid text messages? Maggie, you are so paranoid, it's incredible. Suddenly, I was filled with excitement and anticipation for our Wednesday movie night an even moreso happy to see that there was no change to our situation after the drunk texts showed my true colors.

Wednesday afternoon rolled around and I was finishing up some work spreadsheets when Mr. Avine chimes in at the perfect time for a distraction.

MAKERS213: hello love.

(teehee, so cute)
MAKERS213: do you have a sec to chat? I need to be a girl for a second.
(oh no.)
AGGIEMAE: go for it
MAKERS213: like, I really dig you... and I know we're not... like officially dating... or whatever... but I’m just not all here at the moment... and I think I need to put the brakes on any... more.. makeout sessions...
MAKERS213: I mean. I still want to hang out with you... I still want to watch that movie with you tonight.
(cue the stomach punch)
MAKERS213: I just don't think it’s fair... if I act on my desires... not really knowing what I want.

MAKERS213: I don't know if that makes sense?
AGGIEMAE: it's cool. i understand. but i definitely think the movie/hangout is out. people can’t have it both ways

AGGIEMAE: but no worries, thanks for the heads up
MAKERS213: well tell me what you're feeling...
(Oh for the love of God!)
AGGIEMAE: i got that feeling from you so im not shocked. im glad you told me

MAKERS213: got what feeling?
MAKERS213: truth be told... i am totally into you... i'm just not fully over this girl... and i just don't think its fair to you...
AGGIEMAE: that’s totally fair. and totally honest

(at this point, I hate you. I hate you. But I'm not going to give you the satisfaction of knowing that, Shane. Dick)
MAKERS213: I just want to make sure that I’m not filling some fucked up void... with you... i like you, i like you around...
(Of course you do! Just not enough.)
AGGIEMAE: ive been there. it sucks. just figure things out. it's smarter that way

MAKERS213: well. I appreciate you understanding.
MAKERS213: but I want to know what that means for us?
(pfft, now he uses the word 'us')
AGGIEMAE: for now. not a whole lot. it can’t.

MAKERS213: so, if I were to say... "hey maggie what are you doing want to hang out?"
MAKERS213: you'd shut me down?
AGGIEMAE: i dont really know what you are asking me here. you want to hangout but dont want to hangout. you want to be fair to me but you still want to be around me. just sounds counter-productive to me

AGGIEMAE: im always around, you know that.
AGGIEMAE: and we'll always have dodgeball
MAKERS213: haha jerk.

I left the conversation feeling strangely better. More in the know. More informed. FINALLY something, some sort of an answer! But as my confidence wore off, the revelation that he had dumped me was setting in. What the fuck!?! He starts off with “hello love” and breaks up with me? Jesus, what is wrong with that guy? He still wants to watch the movie tonight? How stupid does he think I am? Why should he get to be friends with me…we WERE NOT friends!  damnit #3

Over and over and over our whole 4 month “relationship” played out in my head. The constant IMs to the point of having to block him, the 'I love you', the constant attention, him after me so much that I finally caved…and he was into SOMEONE else? Where did I miss all that? Was I just blinded by my incessant belief that I was a “good get” for him; rather than the truth - that I was more like a better distraction? That hurt and that stung. I was so blind. I was so foolish. And I was crushed.

The first days after were tough. When you are used to something, and it gets taken away, any hint of it twists the knife. Getting online, seeing his screen name pop up, seeing a post on Facebook, or a comment on someone’s page…everything infuriated me. I couldn’t stand it, I couldn't stand him. How could he do that? How could he just walk away from this!?! Ok, Maggie, that is a bit much.

And for a week I asked the same questions to myself, over and over and over. I refused to contact him; if he wanted to talk to me he knew where I was. A couple of heart wrenching IMs to tell me he “feels like an asshole” just cemented the ending. He wasn’t talking to me because he realized a mistake, as badly as I wanted to him to think he had.  He was talking to me because HE felt bad and wanted ME to relieve him of his guilt. I appeased, because I'm an asshole. I mean, really…you can’t blame a guy for NOT liking you. You can hate him, but you can’t really blame him. And the most important thing about a breakup…YES IT WAS A BREAKUP!...is to make sure you come out of it looking the best, most mature. Like a no-fault divorce. Stay classy.

Just as suddenly as I was dumped, I realized the most beautiful thought. It was a gift, one that took a week to realize. It never even occurred to me until the immediate shock wore away a bit.

I was hurt. I was sad. And it had nothing to do with Jake. For the first time in 4 years, something had NOTHING TO DO WITH JAKE.

And just like that, it was a sweet pain, mourning Shane. Don’t get me wrong, I was still uber bummed out and I missed whatever we had. But Shane got to me, and it felt really nice to begotten to again. It was like, in that instant I knew what people meant by it takes time. And my time to suffer from Jake and his antics were over. I was over him.

And just like that I couldn’t wait to meet the next person to get to me…

The Creepy Cupcake

2009-09-11T16:19:00.000-07:00

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Age: 29

Height: 5' 11"

Hometown: Chicago, IL

Best Quality: Spontaneity

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I work at a law office as the Administration Director. Good title but it should have actually been titled “let Maggie do it.” The position and pay are great, the people I work for equally as great but the mundane tasks of keeping a multi-location firm together was uninspiring and extremely tedious. Basically, it continuously bores me. So I turn to my forever friend, Facebook.

My love of Facebook, Blind Gossip and political websites has gotten me in trouble at work again today! I had a lovely, 20-minute, 3 person bitch-fest directed at me and dedicated entirely to my love of trashy websites and non-work ethic…again. Of course they tell me this at 2pm, when I still have hours left to act busy and NOT pissed off. All in all, today was a bad day at work. At least it was Friday. I didn’t have to come back here tomorrow. For the next 4 hours, that thought got me through the day.

Finally, 6 o’clock rolls around and I quickly gather my things, leave and lock the office and head for the elevators.

I work on the 10th floor of a 12-floor building. I praised Jesus for quickly providing me my exit rather than waiting, every second opening up a chance for other co-workers to join me on my way out. I stepped into the elevator and pressed B2 for the garage. The elevator stopped at the 8th floor. Ugh, can’t I just get out of here already.

A guy walks in presses B1 and all I can do is roll my eyes in utter annoyment and anxiety to just get the hell home.

“Um, you are way too pretty to look so miserable.” He says to me as the elevator doors shut

“I’m sorry, what?” I was so confused. Was he serious? I looked like hell. I hadn’t put any makeup on that day, had on a scowl the size of Texas and this guy actual chose to hit on me? Los Angeles is weird.

“You look like you’ve had a rough day?” he responds

“Ya, I’m really looking forward to being home.” Get me out of here, get me out of here. Why do strangers insist on talking to me at the worst times?

“So you work in the building then?” he asks.

“Yup. 10th floor.”

“I don’t think I’ve seen you before, and I’d remember. Do you eat lunch?” he says.

I was shocked. What was going on? Did I miss something?

I said with a quizzical look “Well I do eat lunch.”

“No way! I eat lunch too!” he cutely and excitedly responded. “So since you eat, and I eat would you like to go grab lunch sometime?”

I once asked my mother on a scale of 1 to 10, with 10 being the highest, how pretty she thought I was. “Anywhere from a 4 to a 10” she replied. Meaning I looked like hell when I didn’t try, but looked ‘like a super model’ when I put in the effort. I was most definitely a 4 today.

Still in shock and impressed by his cute response to such a strange question I say “Are you serious? Wow, um, ya. I’ve never been asked out in an elevator before, I think you just made my month.”

“Well I’m Heath, here, my email address is the best way to reach me, because I run around to meetings most of the day.” He gave me his business card and I managed to soak up whatever information I could in the time that remained (all of 10 seconds).

Heath was on the highest end of 5’, just coming in under 6’ (have I mentioned height is the first aspect I see in a guy yet?), short dark hair with a lean body and nice brown eyes with two-days scruff worth of facial hair. I would peg him for Greek or Italian, but really he could have been anything. His business card showed that he worked in TV ad sales on the 8th floor of my building. All in all… this guy was good get for a 4. “So, just email me when you want to have lunch. I’m out of town next week but I’d love to take you, put a smile on your face.” Heath said as backed out of the elevator

“That’d be nice.” I smiled back and the door closed and I was alone again.

I got out at my elevator stop and walked to my car all the while thinking how that a small 90 second interaction just made my week, maybe even month. It’s funny how fast, in such a random moment, things can just happen. The whole scene reminded me of the time I was also leaving work and a guy in a convertible driving next to me started yelling “You’re pretty. Can I take you ouuuuuuuuuut!?!” Random, weird and a definite ego boost.

I was instantly happy for the whole weekend.

* * *

I waited until right before lunch on Monday to email him. God, I love modern-day dating!

From: McGuiser, Maggie
Sent: Monday, July 14 1:20 PM
To: heath@mediatv.com
Subject: lunch

Heath? Gosh, I hope so.

Anyway, this is Maggie, the gal that takes elevators and eats lunch! Just thought id get in touch about lunch if you are still interested. I think you said you were out of town this week but here’s my email.

Tag, you’re it!
Maggie

From: heath@mediatv.com
Sent: Monday, July 14 1:32 PM
To: McGuiser, Maggie
Subject: RE: lunch

Hey Maggie!
Of course I’m still interested—a girl who rides elevators AND eats lunch is something a guy can’t let pass him by. Let me know when works for you—I can do today, tomorrow, or any day next week. Looking forward to it.

H

Oh, look at that! Only 12 minutes to reply…this is good.

We set lunch and emailed a couple more times on the day of to confirm the meeting place and time (lobby @ 1:30pm). I found myself getting a bit nervous the day of, as always. I needed more information, I needed to know who this person was, after all besides the 3 or 4 emails I had no idea what I was getting myself into. He could be a serial rapist for all I knew. That’s it. That thought broke me into stalker mode.

I googled him.

You learn interesting things when you put a person’s name into the Google search engine. I highly suggest you google yourself; if there are any of you out there that haven’t thought of it yet. You’d be surprised what you will come up with.

Well apparently Heath grew up in Chicago, well at least went to undergrad in Chicago. He had a Masters in Communication from a So Cal university. Hmmm, must have been here for a bit. I wonder how old he is.

I MySpace searched him.

BAM. There it was. Age, picture, quote…aka, the only three things you need to know about a person!

Pic = nice!
Age = older!
Quote = not funny/witty/interesting. boo

Two out of three aint bad.

* * *

The Thursday had come to go meet my elevator man for lunch. I took the elevator to the lobby and he was standing in the door way, sunglass on, waiting for me to arrive. (I never get there early. I look stupid when I wait.) I hugged him hello, smile across both our faces.

We walked over to a small deli across the street, trading our basic where-are-you-from/what-do-you-do-exactly information. It was a sunny day and I was cursing myself for leaving my sunglasses in the car and having to squint the entire walk over as if I was a 97 year old bat-shit-blind woman straining to see the directions on her prescription meds.

The lunch was good, the anxiety I had felt at the beginning of the day wore off by the time we sat down and waited for our food. Awkward moments were a plenty on our cas lunch. Besides the basic background information, there wasn’t much for us to talk about. I really had no social life, having A) just moved here and B) just been broken up by the only other person I knew in town so my topics of conversation were lacking and borderline contrived.

Heath was talking about how he had moved from Chicago to Los Angeles about 5 years ago, originally from Florida. As he talked I got this effeminate feel from him. Not metro. Not full-on gay. Just, let’s say …animated. He used his hands to talk a lot and had a bit of a feminine draw to his speech. It was fucking distracting. That’s all I could focus on. He would “tsk” when talking about something he disapproved of, for example “Ugh.” Tsk “I got this new boss” tsk “SUCH the micromanager, ugh.” Tsk.

The lunch came to a close and we walked back to our building. I made an excuse that I had to go run a work errand so we parted ways at the lobby elevator doors.

“So, I’ll talk with you. We’ll get lunch again. This was fun!” he animatedly says

“Ya, thanks again for lunch. Email me and we’ll plan something else.” I walked into the elevator and watched him, watch me until the doors shut.

Well that was interesting.

Over the next couple of weeks, Heath & I kept in touch via email. He had taken me to two more lunch dates, all with about the same effect of the first one. He kept getting more and more, er, animated and in turn, not attractive to me. But it’s not like I had anything else going, and I HAD in the past always been too picky, so maybe I wasn’t giving Heath a chance. He was really nice, successful, cute (enough), seemed interested and was on top of it with me. But it just wasn’t there. Again.

We still emailed once or twice a week, but I have to say after 3 ‘lunch’ dates, I was getting quite bored with the situation. Until one day when the building was having a “Tenant Appreciation” BBQ on the roof of the parking garage with free food, drinks and a - don’t mind the pun – garage band. A gal from my office and I headed down the elevator to the 4th floor to, well mainly get away from the office. We grabbed a plate of food, jacked some decorations for the office and headed back up stairs.

As we walk into the elevator, guess who happens to be coming out of the same one? You got it, good ole Heath himself. It had been about 2 weeks since we had our third lunch date and about a week since any email exchange.

“Whoa, HEY! I don’t think I’ve ever run into you around the building. You coming from the BBQ?” Heath says, surprised.

“Actually I’m just grabbing a plate for a girl upstairs that can’t come down.” This was true a gal couldn’t come down, but the plate was for me. I still don’t know why I lied. I shouldn’t have.

“Well come back down and have a plate with me.” He replied

“Just give me 5 minutes, I’ll be back down.”

I came back down and made, yet another plate of food to eat, this time a bit more conservative since I was eating in front of people, especially a guy.

Heath introduced me to his co-worker friend standing at the table with us. Immediately, Ken – or so he claimed – launched into his interrogation:

Where are you from?
Why did you move here?
Where do you live?
Why are you working for a law firm?
What do you want to do in life?
Where did your parents grow up?
What do they do?
Sooo, how much do you like Heath?

And on, and on, and on….

It reminded me of that scene in “Uncle Buck” where the 7 year-old kid shoots a barrage of questions, to be immediately and precisely answered by John Candy. I did the same and answered every question with quick, concise answers. What the hell is with this crazy guy? Is he on something? Does he want to stalk me?

I couldn’t take it anymore. I was weirded out by home-boy’s co-worker and his Spanish Inquisition; the effeminate nature of my once-promising date. I had enough of all of it.

I easily finished my plate and made my apologies about having to head back to work, as I was already walking towards the building while saying goodbye. Not the least obvious, quick-exit ever, but whatever.

“I’ll walk you to the elevator.” Keith responds tailing after me.

yay.

He walked me to the elevator and rode up to his floor with me, staring at me the whole time. As we reach the 8th floor, Heath looks at me and says, “Ok, honey. I will talk to you soon.”

As I’m standing there, wondering where the fuck THAT ‘honey’ came from, Heath swoops in and goes for a kiss. In the elevator. Door open. Someone standing at the landing waiting to get into the same elevator. Oh, no. We have an audience. He did a head bob as he got closer to my lips, as if hesitation (THAT SHOULD HAVE STOPPED HIM) was creeping into his mind making him rethink his decision. Finally it all ended with a quick, wet peck a bit rougher than I was expecting seeing as it took him all of 15 seconds to fucking commit to the action. Afterwards he exited the elevator and briskly (if not an actual jog) walked away towards his office, never looking back.

The elevator doors closed and I did the cooties dance and shivered the entire way back to my desk. Buhuluhuluhugh….CREEPY!

To this day, every time I’m in the elevator and it stops at the 8th floor, I mentally beg God Almighty to save me from another encounter.

I haven’t ran into/emailed/spoken to Heath since. He knew what he had done, there’s no turning back from a kiss so terribly gross, poorly timed and awkward as shit!

And Heath? …that co-worker….might want to rethink that introduction with the next lady friend, buddy.

Just sayin...