Because It's Better To Be Irrational With Me Than Rational With Someone Else

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The Day AFTER

Word of advice: if you are to dump a person (over a text message nonetheless), do it at the end of the week, not on Thursday. Give them the weekend to cry their anger out, so comes Monday, they're ready to go back to work.

Friday. I am a zombie. The void created by the sucked out soul and stomped heart, hurt. It hurt. I couldn't feel, but I hurt; I couldn't cry, but my eyes were swollen. I signed government papers, I had an interview about my successes. �I couldn't have been prouder of you!� Ya, I was just lucky, I shrug my shoulders. �It couldn't have happened to a nicer person!� Hah! Someone has been overindulging in crack. I wanted to cry. How can I be so successful in my career, but such a failure in my personal life? HOW?! I lead a tour of prospective graduates around the campus. I couldn't have been more emotionally detached than then.

My friend decided to drag me out of my comfortable mourning to a night of forgetting. At the mall parking lot, I put on the reddest, the most expensive pumps I could have found. I was feeling better.
I had a vegetable roll and dumplings at a sushi place. I had a delicious chocolate mousse and Riesling at a dessert place. I was feeling much better.

Bar 1: Bouncer hugged me. Got free drinks. Got to discuss cars and tattoos. Met a person who deals with tree diseases. Man count (man who approached me with drink offers, hugs, kisses, general debauchery): ~7.
Bar 2: the moment we walked in, we regretted it. We started walking out when a guy calls from far away that he is in love with the girl with the red shoes. Me. I ran up saying I love him too, and he licked my face, then pulled out chopsticks out of his back pocket, at which point I decided this was too weird for me, but I decided to just roll with it. Many sexual innuendos and many more face lickings later, my friend declared boredom, and we left. Man count: ~3.
Bar 3. While waiting for my glass of water, some guy asked if I was alone. I shook my head, I was with someone, I smirked. With someone. The whole time roughly, six men observed me. And I observed back. I joined them at darts. Me and the man in blue plaid stared at each other, then we took the stage and went crazy. We loved the same books. We loved the same activities. We were match in heaven. Me a scientist and him a documentary filmmaker. He took photos of me. We spoke in foreign languages to each other. Others just watched the spectacle that was me and the guy in blue plaid. We decided to hang out later on this week. Then we parted ways. I met a patent lawyer who wanted to represent me. I was not into that. I met an artist who painted old people. I was interested but left in mid sentence. I met a creep who tried to feel me up the whole time begging that I should go on a date with him. No. And then the bartender asked me to come by more often. He was hot. I felt good. Man count: ~11.
Total: ~21 +/- 2.

Conclusion: My friend to the friend of the creep who apparently is very hardbroken about me walking away from him: �You've got to understand, she's popular with the boys. He started off on the wrong foot with her, ruined her first impression of him. If he wants to have anything with her, he needs to step his game up... others are already doing so.� Haaaaaaha. Shameless plug.

And my exboyfriend? He can screw himself. I shall send him the keys he gave me to his mansion. Just the keys. The keychain i'm keeping. I like the keychain a lot. More than I like him at the moment.

12:35 a.m. - April 12, 2011

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