For two days I have been dealing with mr.ex moving my dirty dishes and assorted pots to the dining room table (“my spot”) as punishment because I had the audacity to move his frying pan, that he put in the sink expecting me to wash it, and put it on his table. Childish, yes, but there are some lines that I don’t want to cross, and washing his dishes is one of the main ones. Anyway, there was this movement of dishes and then the requisite curses and insults from him that incorporated the weekend drama, because the rest of the time I was trying to grade 75 papers (all of which were bad, causing me to think what a bad teacher I am and what to do to help those 14-year-olds think and write at the same time).
All of this ridiculousness did prompt me to look for a rental place, which would cost the other half of my salary that my share of the mortgage here doesn't take, which would leave me and my daughters with nothing to live on. But I am determined to be out near my birthday, which is coming up.
Anyway. Back to the drama. While I know that I should not get on Craig’s List personals because it has become a real downer, it has, unfortunately, also become a bit of an obsession for me. I keep thinking that the reality is not the real reality so I keep expecting an actual man with intelligence, personality, and smile that charms me who finds all of that in me to make himself known. Alas, this has not happened. (Duh, for anyone who as read any posts here.) Do I scare them off with my verbal antics? Perhaps my discussion of why drama is an expected part of life scared off one man, while my ability to string sentences together that developed a point could have scared off another. I will not say looks because lately I have been found to be beautiful (YES!), except for Mark. Which brings me to what I couldn’t help doing.
Now mind you I broke a cardinal rule with Mark: I responded to an email that had lol (no, it was L.O.L.) in it—not just in one email, but in two out of three. And since he is not a man of many words, that was a big part of his writing. But I thought maybe I am being too discriminatory in the email part of the dating game, and I would give him the benefit of the doubt that his verbal ability will come out in conversation. DING DING DING. Dumb move. Stick to the rules, that’s why you made them.
Mark: Your very pretty Laura. I'm looking for some one that is height weight Proponent. ?? Don’t mean to offend you ok.
(I will not even use my red pen to mark all of Mark’s grammatical errors, I will skip right to my response—which I couldn’t resist sending.)
ME: You're a stupid man, no offense.
For those of you who are not in with this dating term: to be height-weight proportional is a way of saying “thin” or no evidence that you have eaten a Big Mac or M&Ms for the past 47 years. Back to the rules.