Predictability, Part 2

01May10

I should have seen it coming.  I knew I should have fucking seen this coming.  But I didn’t until I was knee-deep into it, and by then I was drunk and it was too late.

In short form, Chao-ass started messaging on one of my faboo photos, which resulted in a dialogue between us that went back and forth for about 38 messages before I finally insulted him enough, or he got bored.  Personally I think it was the former more than the latter, because at that point I had put 2-and-2 together and lost my patience over the whole matter.

The catalyst to all this?

I commented on the page of a mutual friend asking if he wanted to go to an event with me.

Chao-ass, in a state that can only be encouraged by alcohol consumption, thus commented on my photo, to the point he actually seemed to be flirting with me.   To which I didn’t reply, and to which my lack of reply meant silent consent, or defeat, whichever.  It was about this point, when the flirting happened, that I figured out his game.  To me the entire exchange was merely entertaining — I was chatting with four other people via IMs and his was just another conversation I was carrying.  But .. yeah, ugh.  He was trying to mark his territory, or was pulling some kind of jealous bullshit.  Fucking games, I’m so sick of it.  He’s the one who went off and married some thai hooker, fuck him.

The whole experience has left a very bitter metal taste in my mouth.. or maybe that was the wine.  I’m not entirely sure at this point.  Maybe the experience helped to amplify the bitterness in my mouth.

This whole thing only further serves to confirm my belief that contact with him is bad for me, and this whole switch to dayshift will be for the best since we’ll have zero contact at work, or outside of work, after that point.  Out of sight, out of mind.

And yes, you possibly read correctly — I invited a guy from work to an event.  I highly doubt he’ll agree or even want to come with, but I thought the whole process would be mildly entertaining if anything.

Oh, and less than two weeks until I’m in Montreal with Mr J.  We both realized this tonight while talking and I think it excited us both.  I assure you, I tried to minimize my flirtations even though I was drunk.

Last weekend I watched ’10 Things I Hate About You’ which, in extreme hindsight, had really poor acting along with a very young Health Ledger (and a very cute Joseph Gordon Lewitt — my new crush).  But it did behold this gem that I felt was quasi-applicable:

I hate the way you talk to me,
and the way you cut your hair.
I hate the way you drive my car,
I hate it when you stare.
I hate your big dumb combat boots
and the way you read my mind.
I hate you so much it makes me sick,
it even makes me rhyme.
I hate the way you’re always right,
I hate it when you lie.
I hate it when you make me laugh,
even worse when you make me cry.
I hate it when you’re not around,
and the fact that you didnt call.
But mostly I hate the way I dont hate you,
not even close
not even a little bit
not even at all.

Except for that last part.  At this stage in the game I do hate him quite a bit.  But it’s still kind of pretty regardless.

[FYI C — I am not on faboo or msn, so rest assured I am not indulging in stupidity]

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