Bitches be cray

I had a four hour Skype date with Abby on Tuesday night, she is obsessing over a man who is just as confusing as Melvin, so needless to say we spent a good four hours trying to decode each other love interest. There may have been some other things brought up, like wine and chocolate but for the most part, it was four hours of obsessing over every single detail of our love interests. What this text message meant, what he meant when he did this or that, and why oh why do we allow ourselves to become so wrapped up in one person. I know it’s because of girl logic, but I left the conversation with one thing in mind, how can two fairly smart and educated women spend four fucking hours talking about guys, letting them control most of our though process throughout the day and all of our thought process at night. How is that normal? How is that healthy? How can we not want to talk about anything else? Seriously, it makes my day when I see a window to talk about Melvin, when I am able to spill the whole situation onto someone in hopes that maybe they have more of an idea what is going on. It took everything I had to not unleash the whole story on a poor cashier at the grocery store when she asked me how I was. In my head I wanted to say,

How am I?! OBVIOUSLY I am not okay, obviously I am confused about this guy and I just don’t know why he hasn’t texted me today because I really want to text him but I deleted his number because I’m pretty sure he doesn’t like me, but I like him, but he might like me, but he used this emoticon so I’m not really sure what that means, do you think that emoticon means he doesn’t like me or he does? What about when he said this...that has to mean he wants to hang out with me right?!”

I  didn’t say that, I held it in, I wanted too, she was the one who asked how my day was...maybe she shouldn’t do that if she doesn’t want to know how my day is actually going. How ‘bout them apples grocery store lady!

I hope someone else has had a moment like that, where you just want to unleash on a random person. I know Abby isn’t any better than me though, she is obsessing just as much as I am, maybe even worse because at least I get drunk and spill my guts, yay me for having zero filter when I drink, Abby  keeps it in. But at one point in our conversation she said

“ya, but he used a period, he NEVER uses periods so now I just don’t even know what to say back!”

I envy anyone who didn’t have the dating pressures that text messages puts on us. When things are done over face to face contact you have the ability to forget things, to not go back and re-read conversations and you know the tone of the voice and not have to worry about a period. A fucking period. Who obsesses over that?  Women do.

Men don’t sit around talking with their friends asking if it’s okay to text them, analyzing what you should say, writing a text, deleting it, re-writing it and then pressing send and going into full on panic because it’s been 30 seconds and he hasn’t responded, heaven help you if an hour or two goes by and he hasn’t responded, at that point you are sitting on your cold bathroom floor, hyperventilating, gripping your phone for dear life, rocking back and forth, while singing the sun will come out tomorrow. Men send a text and get on with their lives, they don’t write or re-write and they definitely don’t have panic attacks if they don’t get a text back.

They probably don’t feel the same kind of excitement that we do when we receive a text. Oh my poor family and friends, Melvin text me last night, first, without me texting him, I was almost asleep in my bed at 9:30 at night when the ding went off, I check my phone, success! I jump out of bed and start doing the fucking Macarena, which would be normal behaviour for me usually, but I was in underwear and a tank top, probably not a sight my 15 year old brothers friends who were sleeping over wanted to see. Didn’t stop me, I was jumping around and singing and then realized I had to reply, so I wrote and re-wrote then wrote again, I settled with “hey I’m good how are you.” I thought that was a good response, right? Trust me the first drafts where a little rough, at first I thought of writing “I’m just swell” then I was going to say “good, you?” but I settled with “hey I’m good how are you.”

Men don’t do these kinds of things, the most would be a smile at their phone, women go bat shit cray. Also men don’t sit around analyzing if they slept with you too soon, if you should have done something different, worn a different top, if you have to much cleavage or not enough, men don’t try on 50 outfits for a date (which is just crazy). Men will pick a pair of pants off the floor and a shirt and go, they will send the first text they write and they won’t give it another thought, they won’t spend hours going over every detail of the time you’ve spent together, they just act how they want. It’s infuriating knowing that we spend so much time worrying and obsessing and analyzing and they don’t have to feel that panic we do. The only time they feel panic is when they think they are about to get some and it’s still on the fence because she could put her pants back on and go home or she could fully take them off. That’s the panic we women have to deal with all the time when we have these God awful feelings for a person.