On Droughts and Fog

I abhor the flash-flood nature of my (love)life.

Dotty has disappeared into the ether. I haven't heard from him since right around the 4th when he suggested we go out.

GH and I managed to go out, but I haven't had so much as an IM from him in the last week.

I decided earlier this week to take the initiative and invite Jackson out. It should be no surprise to you that he completely blew me off with a litany of why he wouldn't have time to get together. This person was coming to town, he had to meet with that person, he had his son one night, he was going somewhere the other night ... yadda yadda. I don't begrudge anyone a busy life, but I firmly believe that people make time for the things they want. As he didn't even bother to suggest when he could meet, it is apparent that Jackson is not all that interested. I will ask again in a few days just in case he had a flaky moment, but my money's on the answer being the same.

I sent an IM to Mr. Marine last Monday, after not hearing from him since the day I dropped him off at the airport. He waited until I was offline again to respond, and he gave me a load of ultra-lame hooey about how he'd been sick since he'd returned home, and had been going to bed every night right after work. WTF? No one is that sick for an entire month. I am officially writing him off.

What is so very wrong with me that no one is interested? If I had a clue, I would fix the problem.

More Than Meets The Eye

So, I saw Transformers tonight with GH (who flakily showed up at the last second). What an awesome summertime movie! Despite its obligatory two-dimensional characterizations, it was a LOT of fun.

Now, you might expect someone like the Spinster to prefer Jane Austen adaptations and the ilk. Jackson even called us conservative the other day *sniff*. But never fear! There is more to the Spinster than meets the eye. Heh. The Spinster's ingredients for the perfect movie: 1) hot lead actors, 2) car chases, 3) explosions.

I think we have come, Dear Readers, to a moment of confession. My favorite character was not Captain Lennox (played by purty Josh Duhamel), or funny Sam (played by future superstar Shia LaBeouf). Nor was it the endearing Bumblebee or brave Optimus Prime.


It was Ironside. See, I have this thing for trucks. Big trucks. Especially big, black trucks. I don't recall ever *not* feeling this way about trucks . . . it's practically a fetish. So everytime Ironside came on the screen in truck form, pervert that I am, I got a little wetter.

Jackson has a big, black, diesel Silverado. I should call him >:)

Of Course

*grumble*

Of course this week has not even remotely lived up to expectations.

Jackson claims to have developed a headcold and can't see me for at least a week. A perfectly reasonable excuse, you might say. Except I've heard this one before from guys and on at least two occasions it was proven bullshit.

Today is Thursday (duh), but I still haven't heard from Dotty about finalizing our plans for tomorrow. My money's on not hearing from him until the middle of next week, and then he'll be all "Where were you? I thought we were going to get together last Friday." This, too, is a game I've seen before. I could contact him, yes, but I've gone and boneheadedly lost his phone number and I've already tried to get him by IM.

GH is being a flake. After going out of his way to make a date, he has changed the time twice and asked if he could bring his bandmates along. All while maintaining that his interest is more than platonic. WTF?

When It Rains, It Pours

After a dry spell consisting of, oh, let's say MY WHOLE LIFE, things are suddenly interesting. Yes, your very own Invisible Spinster has managed to get three dates with three different guys.

Last night was the first one, and it went swimmingly. He is intelligent, charming, funny, successful in his profession, and definitely someone I would like to get to know better. I will call him . . . Jackson.

Number two is a character I've chatted with online for a while now. He is educated, witty, and what we have isn't chemistry, it's passion. I can tell already that sex with him would be an intense experience, whether it's the melding of two souls or flat out fucking. Talking with him can be intoxicating, but when we disagree . . . oh boy, watch out! The sparks sure fly. In theory we are set for Friday night. He thinks it's some sort of omen, us meeting for the first time on Friday the 13th. For this reason I will call him Dotty.

Behind door number three is a PhD candidate. I am currently the least interested in him because I just don't think we have the chemistry. Although intelligent, we don't have a whole lot in common. Heaven only knows what he sees in me; I don't sense that he's genuinely interested, only that I'm caught up in some sort of cynical play-the-odds game on his part. I agreed to go out with him because I need the practice. I will nickname him Guitar Hero, GH for short, because (drumroll please) . . . he plays the guitar.

All three of these gentlemen I found online, which seems to me a mixed blessing. I am pleased that someone is showing an interest in me, but I am disappointed that I remain invisible in my daily life. Nevertheless, I am working to concentrate on the positive as much as possible. I will keep you posted!

[EDIT: Just after publishing this post, Jackson sent a txt message saying what a good time he had last night and that we will have to get together again soon. Woohoo!]