I want to stroke something and it certainly isn't your ego

Ok, this is my rant and it is a little long so poor yourself a cup of joe and sit back and enjoy the bitch...

Boys suck ass in way too many ways to mention right now. How is it that 3 of them can piss me off beyond belief in one fucking night. (There will probably be a few f-bombs in this post, not apologizing, just letting you know.) And its because it was all in one night that I am so mad.

Just to recap my dating life, I had an ex that I have recently had sex with and two prospective dates (there has been day dates with both but not to the actual dating level yet). This was before 6 pm tonight.

At 6:03 pm Mr Football sends me a text. (A little background... we have went to lunch once about three weeks ago but since he lives out of town and isn't moving back for a few months it has been really hard to arrange a second date considering that I only have one popular babysitter. Anyway, this past weekend Mr Football invited me out like three times, each time with little warning so I had to decline. I explained that I can't spontaneously go out and if he wanted to do something he would have to let me know with some notice. ) He is upset that I seem 'distant' and he was wondering if I really wanted to date him cause he was 'serious' about dating me. Fuck off. I was serious until you stared acting like a whinny bitch. I don't want to get serious. I want to date.

So then I am talking to my little sister and tell her about the whole my ex is dating before me (I did leave out the embarrassing sex incident - that I will only share with you). Anywhoo.... I told her I was so much prettier and she told me to send a pic of the new girlfriend. So I go on facebook to steal her image and her status was something about going out on Saturday. Something made me look and her birthday was October 18th. (Background, my ex was suppose to come up this weekend but he was sooo broke. Him not coming up means no one to watch MJ, meaning no date for mama this weekend.) Now I am even more pissed. He lied to me to go out with his little scanky bitch. FUCK FUCK. Oh and, cause MJ wanted to talk to him I called him to leave a message, blah, blah, when I finally did get a hold of him he said he was working all weekend. No he was getting drunk birthday sex.

So when Mr Cute called I shouldn't have even picked up the phone. Now Mr Cute is ubuer cute (hence the nickname), he is 26, a personal trainer and goes to university part time. After some pretty good flirting I asked what he was taking in school (just not a subject we had broached yet). He told me economics but he wasn't doing so well. I told him I loved econ and could help if he needed. I used to tutor econ in university. He said maybe. I asked him what classes he was taking and he said the 100 level. I told him not to worry, they got easier and I got way higher marks in my 400 level courses than in my 100. He seemed a little stunned and got really quite, letting me go shortly after.

For Mr Football - I am not going to drop my life and drag my daughter across town (for lack of a babysitter) cause you want to see me this very moment. And no, I am not letting you come over to my house with a sleeping daughter upstairs cause you couldn't be bother to plan an actual date with me.

For me Ex - Buck up and be a man and a father. I understand the need for another girlfriend, but don't lie to me. This is time with your daughter. (I need to admit, to be a bitch I cancelled this weekend between the two of them. I feel justified and I really don't care.)

For Mr. Cute - You know what, I am not that girl who puts herself in a corner to make other look better. I am the star of the fucking show and if you want to be with me you better fucking get used to it. Yes, I do let people shine in their accomplishments, but am not going to hide the fact that I am smart and accomplished.

Ok, I know I am over reacting but come on, all in one night makes you loose it a bit. I am going to bed now. Need to run tomorrow. Everything always looks better after running.

Moi