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Hello world, as you may have noticed I took another long hiatus from writing. It's just exhausting going out with so many douchecanoes (my new favorite word) and then reliving the experience via writing.
Bachelor #38 is a shameful story that I am not proud to share. I lacked major judgement on this one. This guy was cute guy who moved out here to work in animation. He seemed like a pothead but he was cute and pretty funny. We had a good time on our first date (which was during the first Blood Moon last April), we had drinks at Laurel Tavern and then made out to some Tron soundtrack music (wasn't my choice, it was on his phone).
Bachelor #38 and I hung out quite a bit, mostly though just at his apartment late at night. So basically we weren't even dating, just fooling around. But I had reached a point where I just didn't really give a fuck anymore and just wanted to hang out with a chill guy who made me laugh, who I could watch movies with and who I was physically attracted to. I knew nothing serious was ever going to develop because he was just too much of a stoner.
We lost touch for a while and eventually he started texting me again. We basically had a friends with benefits situation going on since neither of us were dating anyone, and I thought I could be cool with it. I quickly discovered that I am NOT a friends with benefits kind of girl. I felt cheap. I was upfront with him and told him I couldn't do it. He still kept trying to re-hook back up with me last fall and I just kept ignoring him.
I blame the Blood Moon for this one.
