Ce qui est chiant, c'est toi.

Dear Ammon,

You know how sometimes, things go from bad to worse?  Well, I feel like our situation has gone from bad...to crazy.  I know some of this was my fault.  See, it was my fault for not arranging a time for us to meet. Also, I did not reply when asked where we should meet. And it was my fault for not texting you back. For a week. And maybe a half. And it was my fault that I still didn't text you after that. This is where I am going to willingly say I didn't deliver. I'm not going to tell you again that I'm busy and that I only have ONE night a week where I can usually see people. I'm not going to tell you that I usually have to make plans at least two weeks ahead for said night off of work. I'm also not going to tell you that on my last day off, I wanted to see my family that lives in another city over seeing you.  I felt really bad about it, honestly.  I really did. I felt that maybe I owed you, at the very least, an explanation.

And then, I got this from you:  C'est chiant que tu n'as pas fait ce que t'as promis.

...really? This is what you do when you feel love scorned, buddy?  You text me something mildly offensive in French?  You know, that's actually kinda' cool.  I have to say, that's the most sophisticated-sounding way anyone has ever told me I'm pretty much a pain in the arse and super uncool.  (It kinda' makes me wonder - what happens if you hit your thumb with a hammer or someone punches you in the face?  Do you get Russian?  Mandarin Chinese? ...What do I have to do....to get to the really crazy languages? Hmmmm....)  Either way, man, I was caught a little off guard with that comment.

Once again, I felt bad. That is, until I got this Lewis Carroll-esque gem, right before eleven tonight:  It's very rude of you to have done what you did or rather didn't do.



WHOA. HEY. GEEZ. Calm down, Mad Hatter, don't get yourself in a futterwhack, here. I admit it. It was not cool to not show up to our not date that we never actually scheduled.  (Oh, and by the way - why is a raven like a writing desk?) Alright, I get it. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. And finally, I AM SO SORRY for not telling you to please leave me alone already.  I still think you're an okay guy...just not for me, really.



Make good choices,
Lydia


P.S.  Ce qui est chiant, c'est toi.  Couillon va!



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I want to give him this. I'm not going to, but I want to. I'm sure you all can piece together how things went down. Now, once again - I'm not mad, I'm not upset, I'm not hurt. I just think things got way more complicated than they needed to. At first it was just that I was too busy. And then I think he took it the wrong way. And then I started to ignore his texts because I just didn't know what to say. And then...then it took on a life of its own. It was like a big, crushing, snowball of weird and crazy, rolling down a hill of fawkward with building speed - Indiana Jones style.










I think it just crushed us both. Ouch.

























On a sidenote: There's another man I've just recently started to date, and I am perfectly happy with him....now what the hell am I supposed to write about that?

I have that effect on people.

So, when I was a kid, I solved a lot of puzzles.  I don't mean crossword puzzles or Sudoku puzzles (numbers? in a puzzle?  I don't play that.).  I mean jigsaw puzzles, with all the tons of pieces.  Sometimes several hundred, I'm sure.  I was CRAZY on them, once I started them I had to finish them.  I wouldn't let anyone near the puzzle.  I'd freak out if I accidentally coughed on it.  And my parents - my ever cunning parents - they picked up on my slight obsessive behavior patterns.  So I got a lot of puzzles when I was a kid.  It was a good way to keep me occupied and quiet for extended amounts of time.

(Man...jigsaw puzzles?  That's a real senior citizen activity.)

When you first start a puzzle, it's a daunting task.  I mean...there are like fifty-billion pieces!  So, I had a game plan - you look at the box.  See the finished picture.  Then get to work.  I'd find all the edge pieces first so I had a framework, then I went through everything else. Sometimes, I'd see a really funky looking piece and think maybe I found where it connects.

But then it just...wouldn't fit.

So I'd keep looking. And looking. And looking.  It would bother me in the head, it really would - where is your home, puzzle piece? Why can't you be friends with these other pieces? WHAT DOES THIS ALL MEAN!?!?!    Poor poor Baby Lydia, slightly neurotic even at a young age....Eventually the trouble piece would get to where it needed to be to complete the big picture, though. Eventually.


Little did I know then, I'd still have to be solving jigsaw puzzles when I got older.  Only, the puzzle is a bigger, less tangible puzzle.  This amazingly unsolvable enigma we can call...my dating life.  So, I try to look at the BIG BIG PICTURE of my dating life, I can see the finished picture.  I tried to make the framework. And then, it was time to put the rest of the pieces together.

...and then I found that funky piece.

This piece we can call....Ammon.  Oh, boy, how I tried.  But he just. wouldn't. fit. Poor adult Lydia...still neurotic....and that would be the most apt way to describe my date last night with Ammon. No need to go into details, really.  He's was perfect gentleman, and it would be disrespectful to go through an entire date run-down, I feel.  However, in the interest of helping those sad single souls out there in the dating world from being labeled, "A funky piece", I've decided to compile a short list of things to watch out for while on a first date.



First Date To-Don'ts:


1. When is a good time to talk about Ted Bundy in great detail? Almost never. Really. Trust me.

2. When your date makes this face: 

...It's also probably time to stop talking about Hitler.

3. Ammon is the name of a guy in the Book of Mormon. He does a lot of things, really. But he chopped some dude's arms off. Actually, several dudes. I'm not saying they didn't deserve it or anything, I'm just saying...he chopped their arms off.

Dude, that's intense.

But it's not that threatening...until you hear your date say the words, "I would kill someone".  Sure, he explained himself after that.  And I'm not saying the person he would kill wouldn't deserve it or anything.  I'm just saying...he would kill someone. And tell me that.

Dude.  That's intense. Especially for a first date.

(BTW - that story about Ammon made #4 on the list "9 Badass Book of Mormon Stories". Check it out here: http://www.imbusyliving.com/2009/03/24/9-badass-book-of-mormon-stories/)



 

4. You know that moment in Braveheart where he yells, "FREEEEEDOMMMMMMM" hella loud and it. is. super, epic.? You remember that moment? Do you remember the feeling you got when that happened?

Yeah....not the feeling one should get because they've been controlling the need to pee for HOURS. HOURS, son. Why? Because there hasn't been a break in you talking about yourself for HOURS.

Did I mention it was HOURS?

5. This symbol "?" is a question mark.  It goes...at the end of questions!  Questions are important on a first date.  They help you gather necessary information.  They also assist you in building a dialogue, which enables you two to have a very pleasant first date.  Without the questions, there isn't much dialogue.  That kind of talking - where you are the only one speaking out loud - is called a monologue. It's doesn't matter if it involves crazy stories or part of it is in other languages with a perfect accent. That may help you land the lead role in your local community theatre's production of Pirates of Penzance, but it won't do much in the first date department.

So. Yeah.  That was Ammon and I.  I know he sounds like a total psycho here, but he really wasn't.  He was just nervous, I think.  And...well, things don't always work when a person is nervous. That's the point, folks.  In total, he wasn't a bad guy, I think he's fairly normal.  But even fairly normal people can have fairly not normal moments. 

I have that effect on people, I gather.

It was his misfortune that these not normal moments happened around a girl who blogs.  Men out there...learn from him, please?  Let's all hope the next entry isn't about you.