I wasted a weekend on flaky boys and conquered the world in the meantime

Well, not exactly.

First thing’s first: have you seen my YouTube video from today? Because I feel like it’s timely and relevant (plus it’s only like 3 minutes long). In it, I talk about a boy who didn’t text me for a month, and then my word-vomit life update text response to him about his absence.

Hint: I wasn’t waiting by the phone.

You’ll note that I mention hanging out with my ex-boyfriend at the end of this video. You see, I had made plans with my ex-boyfriend, who lives in this new and lonely city of El Paso. It was a Friday night. I’m young and stupid.

I figured I’d be less stupid if I stuck with somebody that I know — especially since that somebody doesn’t really do anything irresponsible. He’s like… adult supervision by default. He’s boring. I don’t get crazy around boring. And he doesn’t tell me not to do things, which means he doesn’t pick away at my rebellious streak.

I texted him around 5 to see if he wanted to just hang out at my place and play Cards Against Humanity with my roommates. He hadn’t responded by around 9, so I got to work on doing stuff. I assumed he was still at work.

I ended up finishing up with editing. I color graded the footage. I added music and Reba McEntire. I exported. I wrote a short description. I sorted out my Zazzle shop so that if anybody clicked through, they’d find what I meant for them to see.

And then I drafted like three t-shirt designs.

And then I wrote a blog post for my personal blog.

…and then it was 1 o’clock in the morning. And I still hadn’t heard from him. So I went to sleep.

(He did finally text me, at like 8 this morning, to tell me that he had gone to bed really early. Apparently, like, before 5 in the afternoon early. He’d also flaked on me like three days before this. He’s batting 0. Or something. I don’t know baseball.)

And then there’s today. Last night, before bed, I made plans with yet another boy. I’ve seen him once before. He was nice. He has a nice body. He hasn’t used a non-apology on me yet. So I’m giving him a fair chance. We talked this morning and said we’d meet up in the afternoon, after I’d gone about getting my shit done and he was finished cleaning his apartment.

Great. Awesome.

Except that I texted him once everything was wrapped up — at 3:45. About the time that we’d decided to start hanging out. He has plans for this evening, and I don’t want to dedicate a Saturday night to one dude (feel free to slut-shame in the comments section below. Come at me, bruh). That’s too committal for me.

But now it’s 6 o’clock and he still hasn’t responded.

So I’m looking at comments on my YouTube channel. I read an awesome article by Sara Benincasa called “Why Am I So Fat?” after one of my brilliant creator-friends recommended it to me.

Then I’m writing this. I’m possibly ripping off her style because it’s super fresh in my mind and clicked with me in so many ways. Go fucking read it.

As far as I’m concerned, I don’t have any plans until the bars start getting busy. Because I’m going to go out tonight and do the proper Saturday thing that you do in your twenties — have a couple shots, flirt half-heartedly with the bartender, grind with a rando for a couple songs, and then disappear without warning and head home.

Photo credit: https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/2/23/Ninja_The_Last_Thing_You_See.jpg

(Slide into my Missed Connections if you want it that bad.)

Until then, I’m going to keep writing, keep creating, put up some more t-shirt designs, and otherwise work toward keeping food on the table and a roof over my head (and eventually maybe even owning something nice).

So guys? Keep flaking. It drives me forward. It keeps me from absently trolling Grindr for hours at a time. It gives me the time and aggravation that I need to really focus. It’s possibly the best thing you could ever do to support me as a creator — other than sharing, of course.

And maybe someday, after this has happened enough times, on of you will text me just a couple hours too late and I can be like, “Sorry, dude, but I’m busy being the next Kelly Rippa right now. Life changed.”

Or not.

I can dream.