Playing With Matches

What started as a means of chronicling the online dating experiences of two picky yet adventurous almost thirty somethings has turned into a chronicle of all that is, was and has made up their collective dating histories. Our two original daters are now joined by several other fun, breezy, sassy gals, and Playing With Matches is now a missive on dating misadventures, a cacophony of ups and downs, turmoil and bliss. With a bit of snark mixed in here and there.

Wednesday, August 30, 2006

Confirmation...

...of some things, but not of everything.

So, plans for "catching up" with RCB have been established. He not only initiated talks but he also checked in yesterday to discuss details and confirm.

It should come as no surprise to those of you who know me and/or very carefully read this blog that we will be having drinks after work (at an undisclosed location--I don't want an audience!). What is surprising however, is the fact that (1) this was his idea (2) he helped in the decision making (3) it is happening outside of work (4) he has said, over the course of the past two days, how much he is looking forward to this. Interesting, as he never showed any interest in anything before (circa two years ago), I was always the one to initiate anything and we rarely, if ever, hung out outside of the workday (I am not proud of this).

Oh yeah, The Hooker has moved to another state. Thanks to my great friends for doing some recon.

So, there's a lot going on here, a little of which is making me skeptical and a little of which is making me curious. I won't say that I am feeling hopeful. I'm going in with an open mind but not an open heart. There're a lot of unaswered questions (at least on my end) and I'm not certain that tomorrow is going to be the best time to have them answered (or if there is even going to be a good time to ask them).

Despite objection's predictions, I contend I'm just going to go have drinks with an old friend. A lot can happen in two years. God only knows I'm a much [more cynical, hardened, tough] different person than I was then. I'm not counting on change, just anticipating the possibility of it.

Tuesday, August 29, 2006

Communications 101.

The problem with having a communication issue in your relationship is that it's very hard to talk about. Ironic, but true. After my diatribes of last week (and thank you all BTW for your responses, they were excellent and helpful), I managed to calm down enough to make the following decision. I would give myself one month to figure out things with EE. That's one month during which time I would try to initiate a discussion to get all those unanswered questions answered.

LBH, I don't want to dismiss capriciously...because good guys are hard to find. On paper, we make sense. We're both young, ambitious professionals. There's good chemistry there, good FB (that's flirty banter), a lot in common. As the months have passed, we've opened up a bit more, started to discuss more serious topics (but of course, not "us"...we don't discuss "us"). If I let myself, really let myself, I could fall for the guy. But, every time I've started to do so, I've pulled myself back a bit. Just ask RD, she's been dealing with this for months. And, it doesn't help that from time to time the guy mentioned in my earlier blog of today has phoned with offers that are hard to refuse and which mess me up for a few days.

So, the clock is ticking. We had a fab weekend together, but I stayed away from all the topics that cause me heart palpitations. I focused on the fun of just being together, the casual way we interact. No regrets.

But eventually, we're going to have to go down that road of the "serious talk" again. And, realizing that every relationship-oriented talk we've had has come at my initiation, well...we know who is going to be responsible for getting the ball rolling. The problem is I just don't know what I want to say. I mean, the fear I have here is wasting time. Perhaps that's not a dumb fear for one approaching 30...especially one who already wasted 7 years on a horrible relationship. So, what I want to ask is the one question that you can't ask without being "that girl" -- "Where do you see this going?" We've never discussed relationship goals. So, I have no idea whether he wants to eventually settle down, or if he's a serial monogamist who never sees himself settled.

Oh, and that's not the only question I have. There's another. It's what I call "the middle school question" -- "Do you like me?" Because he's never told me how he feels about me. Now, to be fair, I've never told him either....but I'M THE GIRL! So, being a traditionalist, I like to wait to hear it before I say it too (also, it's safer that way). Sure, he acts like he likes me. He's sweet. We hang out almost every weekend and usually one night during the week. We e-mail multiple times on most days. Sometimes, he brings funny little "presents." He's introduced me to friends. So, am I completely insecure? Why do I actually need to hear the words? I'm not sure.

So, the days pass. The questions, to date, remain unasked and more importantly unanswered. I try to figure out how to bring up the topics, because LBH a month isn't that long. But, there's part of me that's just too afraid to do it...afraid of messing up a good thing...and yet, there's another part of me that's too afraid not to do it.

There are just some guys you never get over.

There's always that guy. You know the one I'm talking about. The sound of his voice on your voicemail still makes your stomach drop, even all these months later. Why can't you shake him? No clue. You try to figure it out. You try to analyze it even as you listen to the message. He's on vacation out west, he sees something that reminds him of you, he calls. WTF? You return said call, because you are nice and LBH, still a little caught up by the idea of him. His laugh can always make you smile. You hang up, and you think about him for a few minutes, remembering. But after a while, you just return to what you've known for months. In the words of a character from MTV's The Hills, there are just some guys you never get over.

Monday, August 28, 2006

A promise that's sometimes hard to keep.

A long time ago, I made a promise to Him.

I had gone and picked him up from downtown (red flag, I know, but bear with me). He had been out with friends and decided, halfway through the evening, that I needed to be there with him. I did not agree, but I did agree to pick him up (I still wonder why), knowing full well the implications of said chauffeur service.

On the way home, he started talking very seriously. We had always had a good rapport, one that was honest and real (at least compared to that which I had previously had with other individuals); there was never any question about how he felt (or, unfortunately, where this would go).

At one point he took my hand, looked at me in all seriousness and asked me if I would promise him something. I agreed, because until that point he had given me no reason not to.

"Promise me that no matter what happens you will never chase after a man. You need to be the one who is chased." He went on to explain why, showering me in those three minutes with more genuine compliments than I had ever received.

I agreed.

Fast forward a long time. Every time I have the urge to pick up the phone or send an email, I am reminded of that promise made to a man who didn't keep up his end of the bargain. And, despite my pseudo-animosity toward him, I can't help but remember what he said to me. So I don't send the email. I don't pick up the phone. Because I deserve to be chased.

Oddly enough, I had every intention in the world of writing about this today. Before I got to work, I began composing this in my head...kind of an "even though the relationship ended here's something I got out of it" post. A looking at the bright side/there's always a silver lining kind of thing. I was tired of being cynical.

Until I actually got to work and was almost immediately accosted, via instant messenger, by a ghost from the past. Yes, friends, RCB has returned. He IMed this morning, saying he was "around" (he had been working off site for a while, unbeknownst to me). He said he just was saying hi and wanted to catch up. Wow. It has been almost two years to the day that that one went away (with some intermittent returns here and there). I played it cool. There was a lot of flirty banter on his part (reminiscent of the old days). I finally said that maybe I had time to catch up this week and asked if we could play it by ear.

He, of course, agreed.

Do I want to do this? I am not sure. But I do know that if I don't, I will surely wonder what his motives and/or intentions in a reunion are. I mean, I'm not stupid. I probably know. And these are, as RJ stated so eloquently a few posts ago, "slim times."

But I'm being chased, I'm not the chaser. So what's there to lose?

Friday, August 25, 2006

When did 2:30am become the new black?

Recently, at another tiara gal's birthday party I struck up a conversation with a not altogether bad looking man. His conversation was decent and he seemed fairly attentive. But as the party went on...and the crowd became smaller and more intimate...and i had not spoken to him in hours... he made no indication he would leave. No one still partying/standing knew him...which made it very clear he was staying for me. Which was lame. When 5:30am my sidekick and I decided it was time to head home and of course stop by the 7-11 for a pressed cuban..i know...but they are so yummy late night...we all do it in these parts..maybe the heat has gotten to us. He, of course, followed us out and after standing there awkwardly while we walked away called out could he get my number. For some reason, I always give my number. I need to pick someone I dislike and start giving their number.

We, well my dd sidekick not I, pulled into the 7-11 and low and behold, i have a text. Very short. Just saying he had a good night and hope I got home safe...okay. that's okay. of course, i did not respond.

So then no call through the week. Which was actually okay and I was thinking I was in the clear (btw did i mention he is younger..this was determined by sidekick the party evening and relayed to rj after the 7-11 text...we know my rules)

no such luck.

he texts me the next saturday at 2:30am. Waking me up. Annoying.

How is this appropriate? Not once in the 20 minute conversation we had at the party did I say "oh I'm up late every night" or "i'm a huge partier" or "it is okay to text me in middle of night"

Anyone who knows me would not call/text anything at this time. I go to bed early. I like my sleep.

I would never EVER In a million years call someone in the middle of the night that I had never had a daytime conversation with and/or spent anytime with learning their habits.

Beyond RUDE.

Is this something the young kids ae doing these days?

Thursday, August 24, 2006

Grounds for Dismissal?

Today I came home and in the mail was a long awaited invite to a good friend's upcoming wedding. Excitedly, I noted that I was invited "with guest." Wow. Pretty cool. For the first time in quite a while, I actually had a guest whom I wanted to invite to accompany me to said wedding. Yup EE. Still in the picture, BTW, after a good conversation last week (in said conversation I received the answer to some, but not all of my questions and decided I could go forward based on that knowledge at least for a while).

So, presented with an opportunity to inquire as to whether EE would like to attend said event with me, I jumped at the chance. Sure, I was nervous...but, why should I be? After all, who wouldn't want to accompany me to such an event? Well, apparently, EE wouldn't want to accompany me. That's right.

Now, in EE's "defense" he has a potential "other commitment" that weekend. Okay, fine. That I can understand. But, need I emphasize the word POTENTIAL? He didn't even say, hey if I don't have said commitment, I would love to go...or, hey, can I get back to you in a few days? Nope. Now, he wasn't mean about it. We kind of joked about it in the aftermath, and I pretended it didn't really matter. But, it did. A lot.

Now, at this point, I could go on and on about how I have a friend who lives near said wedding, that probably would come along. I should add, this friend, is a former friend with benefits. And, I should add that I have zero self control around said friend. And, I should add that when I'm being totally honest with myself, I know I still have feelings for said friend, even though I know he doesn't share said feelings, or at least not to the level that I possess them. Sure, I could tell you about how I imagine calling up said friend, and asking him to go with me...and how he'd agree...and how much fun it would be. And, yes...I could ask you, dear readers, to give me your input re: whether I should ask said "friend" to attend.

But, I won't, for several reasons. It's a bad idea. Obviously bad. It's not fair to EE. It's not fair to our relationship (though who knows if that relationship will survive until said wedding -- I mean, what does this whole incident say about "us"?). And, it's probably not fair to me.

So why is it so tempting?

Wednesday, August 23, 2006

Hands off my tiara, MISTER!

I know in the past either rd or objection...or maybe both came up with quite the comprehensive list of rules as they explored the world of internet dating. Since I'm new...I though I'd make mine. Though I don't have that many so I'll probably spread them over a few posts...a few of mine have been deemed controversial by my friends and acquaintances. But it might give readers some further insight into who I am now...

First I will start with my two main and most important rules.

1. They must be taller than me.

2. They must be older than me.

Now before I get arguments as to how many people have found love and highly successful relationships when breaking one or both of these rules...LET'S BE CLEAR...I will not break these. The two stick and will forever stick. And yes, I have broken them in the past with disastrous results.

So here is a bit in the way of explanation.

1. I'm 5-6. In heels, I am 5-8 or 5-9. I do not like feeling like a "big girl". You must be taller and you must weight significantly more. I was really turned off once when on a "boat date" the boat was stuck and said date hopped off the boat and said "it may help to have my 135 lbs off the boat"...and to be clear he was talking about himself. turn off.

2. No youngin' for me. I'm from a redneck town in florida, i can use that phrase. I am attracted to men who are established, who like to do things (as opposed to sitting on the couch and drinking beers) and have opinions on current events. Yes, I know there are plenty of men under 30 which meet this criteria...which is fine and well I'm just not going to date them.

A girl has to have standards.

Tuesday, August 22, 2006

"He broke up with me...on a post-it."

My favorite line from my favorite season of Sex and the City (I mean, with the advent of "he's just not that into you," how could it not be?). Poor, poor Carrie. Damn Berger.

In my infinite boredom here at "work" today, I was perusing some of my favorite blogs when I came across one that caught my attention. It was about breaking up (a favorite topic of mine, only because I consider myself to be a subject matter expert (or SME, as we in the consulting world like to call them)). In an extremely rudimentary sense, this blog was not about your run of the mill break up but about breaking up in the age of technology. Yes, friends, breaking up via text message.

Now, really. With all that is technological in our lives these days, it's hard not to become at least somewhat dependent upon the phone, computer, sidekick, whatever to communicate. However, do not even think about breaking up with me this way. (Also, don't propose to me via text message, either. Or, while we're at it, on the jumbotron.)

Anyway...if you don't have the guts to tell me to my face then, man, you suck. I guess, though, being broken up with over text is better than not being broken up with at all. Yes, gals (and guys, if you're out there) I know you know what I'm talking about: the cessation of all communication, for no apparent reason, despite the fact that the week (hell, even the day) before everything seemed normal and you had talked no less than 849 times.

WTF? Please tell me why men do this. It's not like it's some random occurrence, some fluke of nature that only I have been victim to (and more than once!). What's the deal? Can anyone explain?

It all comes down to this, I think: the people who break up with you via these means obviously have communication issues. As such, your relationship has issues because while you can (and are willing to) talk talk talk about anything and everything, your [ill chosen] counterpart cannot. And is a coward. And can't deal. Loser.

Monday, August 21, 2006

Welcome to the neighborhood, Romance Junkie.

Friends and neighbors, ladies and gentlemen...I'm happy to report that we have a new contributor to Playing With Matches. My good friend Romance Junkie hails from the Sunshine State and has been dating there (and wherever her whims may take her) for over fifteen years (sorry, RJ, to give away your age). She has many good and many bad stories to share with you, our faithful readers, in the days and weeks and months to come. She is always good for a laugh, a shoulder to cry on, an ear to complain to, and an insight in which to revel. Sometimes shocking and more often than not spot on with her analysis and conclusions, RJ will keep us all entertained. Funny, cynical, sarcastic and always sassy, she is sure to be a wonderful addition to this blog.

So welcome, RJ. Let the games begin.

greetings! men are weird.

Well here I am...bear with my first posting. It may be a little choppy and incoherent as I get used to the blogging thing. I'm used to the email genre so it may take awhile of me testing the waters before i let the full rj come out. I seem to be a magnet though for bizarre occurences and encounters. Below is the most recent...and I apologize...not the most interesting. But I'd like to know how many others identify with this and would love to hear of other like scenarios.

Don't worry...I have tons of stuff to relate..and as I am still single and most recently 30, i'm sure more scintillating stories are still to come.


There is something that almost always happens to me, and apparently others as well who are "out there dating". It may be that you wear a baseball cap and flops to a club, or forget to brush your hair before you run to the grocery store, or, my personal favorite, are sweating profusely on top some torture machine at the gym. All of you daters, and the former daters know what I"m going to say...this is the moment a man, usually attractive, decides it is the right time to approach. Maybe even attempt a little conversation.


What makes men think this is okay? Maybe the cap girl at the club seems a little more down to earth, and the grocery store girl..well maybe she's not too high maintenance...BUT COME ON...there is something a little sick and perverse about the gym. Not only are we incredible vulnerable and immediately obsess about sweating/no make up and whether or not the deodorant was reapplied BUT we are not listening to you. We are looking at the little numbers wishing they would hurry up and get to 30:00. We are concentrating on not breathing too hard as we make little noises and nod to what we are not hearing you say.

weird.

Recently, I had a "grocery store" incident, though it actually occurred at the 7-11. My outfit was casual, consisting of low slung jeans, old tee and my hair in pony tail...nothing too bad. THE KICKER: I had broken out that week and was not wearing makeup as to give my skin a break. Yes, splotchy mess is a perfect description. I was not planning on seeing anyone the rest of day as I was about to make a four hour drive to Miami. There was no need for makeup, so I thought.

I'm pumping gas and I look up as a car pulls in to the pump across from me. The man gets out and I immediately take note. Not gorgeous, but definitely worth a double take in these lean times. Next thing I know he turns around and says to me "You know what I"m going to ask". I, resembling a deer in headlights, nod and state "no" simultaneously. Oh yeah. No makeup + dumbfounded expression does NOT equal me pretty in anyone's estimation. He prods "Yes, you do." But by now I have recovered to cast out a semi-hoighty "No, I"m quite sure I don't"

He grins. I stare back.

He then points to my Civic and says "What kind of gas mileage does this thing get?" Um. What? How would I know this?

So I respond "i don't have any clue" and he proceeds to give me some mathematical equation and instructions on how to figure it out. My eyes must have glazed over though because he then stated "i guess i'm getting too detailed"

HA. So now I'm not just dumbfounded, I have officially been determined "dumb".

So I respond, "Doesn't sound too hard, I just figure it takes me much longer than others to have to fill my tank so I'm good" Or something to that effect. He goes about his business and I go about mine and then head into store to get my drinks for the road.

By the time I get out of store, he is safely pumping gas at his own car. I quickly grab my old water bottle and head to garbage thinking I have enough time to throw this away and get in my car and on the road before he is done at the pump. NO SUCH LUCK. I turn around from the garbage can and HE IS RIGHT THERE.

He says "you want to do something sometime?" i say "i guess".

He just looks at me.

I'm cool now so I say "don't you need my number?" he looks confused and runs back to his car apparently for cell. he comes back with cell and gets number. He asks where I"m going. I say Miami for job interview. He's like "i'll keep my fingers crossed you don't get it and don't move".

um. what?

He never called.

weird.

Thursday, August 17, 2006

Addendum

Thank you dear readers for your speedy replies. Sitting here at work, unable to concentrate at all because I'm focused on this dilemma, I just noted something quite odd. Yes, for the first time ever, I'm really annoyed with EE. I'm frustrated that I've been put in the position of needing to say something. Much like those of you who have sent comments, I have never really needed to have this conversation in prior relationships. Yes, the talk about "where we are going" or "what we are" always evolved naturally. I'm not saying it was always comfortable, but it always occurred...and it always occurred WAY before the nearly 1/2 year mark. So, I sit here, getting increasingly annoyed, which is not going to help matters. Hmmmm.

Can't buy me love.

I opened my DailyCandy email today to see what I can only call a pathetic ad for my favorite [insert sarcasm] dating website, Match.com. And, bad bad bad DailyCandy for selling out like that.

Per the email, "When you want a real romance, you want to turn to someone you trust. And one very trustworthy place has something new to offer."

What they're offering is a guarantee that you will find love in six months, or you get six months free. I find so many things wrong with this. So. Many. Things.

  1. Since I started my Match subscription (six months ago), I have received three emails a week with potential matches. Four months into it, I began getting repeats. Many of my repeats were men with whom I shared some sort of communication (whether initiated or reciprocated by me). The point: there are not "millions of potential dates" out there unless you are (a) undiscriminating (b) looking all over the world for Mr. Right.
  2. I had had my fill by the end of my three months. I had not found "love" or anything even close and was ready to say "No, thanks" not only to potential skeevy suitors but, also, to Match itself. I hadn't found love and wouldn't have kept looking if they gave me another three months free. I hadn't even found like. Or lust. Why would I want another six months of "Hey, your pretty we would really get along here's my phone number" emails and winks from men without faces (ie no profile photos)? The point: I can amuse myself with bad writing in a million other ways. I do not need it in my inbox. Plus, I get enough emails already. And I prefer real life winks (and forehead kisses) than virtual ones from strangers. PS I hate strangers.
  3. I would like to note that it was I, Reluctant Dater, who first used the "online dating is like shopping" simile. So, props to me, please. The point: I'm brilliant.
  4. I do not, nor will I ever, "trust" a dating website that has no idea who I am and knows me only by my credit card number. Who are they to pick my Prince Charming? I mean, I can't even do it, and I know me better than anyone. The point: I'm an adult and can take responsibility for my own actions and bad choices. I do not need Match.com to serve as a scapegoat/intermediary.

Is this smart marketing? I don't know. I wouldn't commit to six months if there is a three month option, regardless of their "guarantee." It was hard enough committing to three months, but stupid Dr. Phil stood there mocking me, so I felt like I had no choice. But if I was unsatisfied after three months, I wouldn't have wanted another three months to "see," even if it were free. A whole year on Match? Give me a "No, thanks" button, please.

To Fish or Cut Bait? That is the Question

So yes, I've been MIA for quite a while. From time to time, I've chimed in with a line or two, but I've been largely absent from the blogosphere. My apologies to all, not that you care mind you.
I now return while pondering whether it's time to have a fish or cut bait kind of conversation with none other than EE. Yes, that's right, EE is still in the picture. All has been going extremely well...with one exception. During the course of the relationship, we've really never discussed the concept of "us." The few attempts at such a conversation have been quickly aborted (because I just become too nervous to bring it up and so metaphorically flee prior to the commencement and/or development of said discussion).


I realized yesterday, that I really need and DESERVE to have this conversation. I need to know what's going on here. I need to have a sense of whether this has potential to develop into a 3 carat Harry Winston kind of relationship or whether it will continue in this sort of nebulous yet simultaneously serious status that it maintains at the present time. It's not that I need to know concretely that said individual is going to be "the one." I just need to know that the potential is there. Because if not, then I need to move on...before I get too attached and it becomes too hard.


Because I'm a big fan of in depth analysis, here's what I know at the present time. I know we have fun together. I know that we get along well. We enjoy the same things, we have a similar sense of humor, and we are both professional, stable, well-educated adults. Here's what I don't know (a) the "status" of the relationship (I consider us to be "dating" but is there a BF-GF thing or could this be leading to a BF-GF thing?) (b) how he feels about me (obviously I can speculate based on actions, but there's been no verbal expression of emotion) and (c) where he sees himself in the long term.


So, dear readers (if you are still out there), how do I proceed?

Monday, August 07, 2006

You're Beautiful, Stupid.

I am Kate Monster.

Who would’ve thought that, sitting in the audience of Avenue Q, recently, I’d find myself relating profoundly and completely to one of the musical’s main characters? A main character who happened to be a puppet.

Poor Kate Monster. A cute, fun girl looking for love; and, when she finds it, it quickly eludes her because, even though he loved her and loved spending time with her, it was “the wrong time.” Whatev. You’re so much better than that, Kate, I wanted to yell.

The experience inspired her to share her feelings through song (as main characters of musicals are generally apt to do). The title of the song was “There’s a Fine, Fine Line.” A fine line between a lover and a friend. A fine line between reality and pretend. A fine line between what you wanted and what you got. And between love and a waste of time.

This play was supposed to be a comedy. But as I sat in the darkened theater and listened to a lady with her hand up the ass of a puppet sing a song about lost love and whether it was really even there to begin with, I started to cry. Not the kind of tears provoked by Beaches or Stepmom, but tears nevertheless.

It also made me start thinking. Here I was, listening to the words of a song, and immediately relating them to my life and my past, as though Kate Monster was singing directly to me, about me. Her words reminded me of relationships past, her experience hit home. I felt completely silly. Silly, yet, in a weird way, relieved.

I tend to do this quite a bit…take songs and relate them to my life, or associate certain songs with certain relationships. There are two songs, in fact, that follow me wherever I go and completely and totally define my last relationship. As Objection can attest (if she ever makes it back into the blogosphere), James Blunt’s “You’re Beautiful,” is my nemesis. If it’s not on the radio, it comes up on shuffle on the iPod (despite the 1500+ songs I have, and despite my taking off any ratings it may have accrued). If it’s not someone’s ringtone (damn you, people!), it’s playing on the muzak.

The other song is “Collide” (which plays all the damn time for new television promos, on the radio, on the iPod, as the background music on several of my weekly television programs…). I listened to this one on repeat for three months last summer because it was my life, unfolding (or so I kept telling myself). In fact, he who shall not be named took on Mr. Day’s persona one evening and, during a very heated and tequila induced “conversation,” even said to me that it scares him that he knows I am always thinking about him. (I am not that girl. Do not think I am that girl.) You’d think that someone who was so [diagnosed as my friends as being] narcissistic would revel in the supposed overload of affection and attention.

So maybe I was thinking about him a lot. But he was doing nothing at the time (disregard the abovementioned conversation and do not make assumptions about its impetus) to make me not want to think about him. And, great...now I can never listen to that song without thinking about him. Or the other one.

Songs like Kenny Chesney’s “I Can’t Go There” are a perfect example of how while I am sometimes egocentric and think (1) the songs are written for me and (2) that I’m the only one who can relate to them, that’s not exactly true.

When I get too nostalgic (if you can call it that), I cue up Sarah MacLachlan’s “Stupid” or Kelly belting out “Since U Been Gone” and I’m reminded that, while I’m not the only one who finds love (or like), struggles with it and then loses it (whether by choice or not), I am also not the only one who realizes, afterward, that it might not have been as good as I thought it to be at the time. As Kate Monster said, there’s a fine line between love and a waste of time.

Because I view every experience as one from which I can take something positive (eh, it’s my attempt at not being a pessimistic cynic), I can’t say that any of the relationships I’ve had were a waste of time, per se (though this doesn’t take away the relativity of Kate Monster’s words). It’s easy to see, when something fails, how all the effort could be looked at as a waste of time. But the important thing, I’ve realized, is the time spent afterward dwelling and bitching and berating that is the real waste of time.

But what would we talk about otherwise?