Everybody – hate Chris.

“Comedy is simply a funny way of being serious.”
~ Peter Ustinov

I don’t know why I moved to my current town when honestly … I love being in the city just so, so much.

Because it’s so much easier to go to events like this:

… even though the Twins got their asses unceremoniously handed to them on a plate by Atlanta.

OK, so … gah. The ManChild totally flaked on going to the baseball game with me (more on that in a minute), so my friend Cynthia came with me instead. The game was on Sunday, but we headed down Saturday to spend some time in the city. We got a room at the Hilton in downtown Minneapolis, got dressed up and hit bars and clubs that evening, got home at some stupid late hour after drinking and dancing and laughing laughing laughing, slept in Sunday morning, had a late breakfast and then walked the mile or so to Target Field to see the game in the afternoon. I had a fan-freaking-tastic time and I really love Cynthia to death, but I still would have rather had ManChild there. Ah well.

Alright – the boy story as I know it. I don’t know that there really is much of a tale to tell, really. Up until a certain point we had almost daily communication by either text or phone, then I noticed a couple days went by without hearing from him. I shot him a text that evening to say hey … and nothing. Nothing the next day either, so I called and left a message … no return call. I let a few more days go by, trying not to obsess about it or lay blame on myself for whatever (I didn’t even know what to blame myself for, if anything), then started making alternate plans for the aforementioned baseball game.

It’s been two weeks since I’ve talked to ManChild and I have absolutely no idea what his issue is. And make no mistake, I do believe that it is his issue. I suspect it has something to do with being unsure about the “R” word (relationship), but if he can’t man up and talk to me about it … well, that puts a little hitch in the giddy-up because I’m pretty well focused on communication. And really, if the guy is going to cut bait and run without a word to me? He can piss off anyway.

Again, not my issue so I can’t let it bother me. If he wants to miss out on this …

… then he’s an idiot.

By the way – his name is Chris. And he’s dumb.

So, moving forward: my interview is tomorrow. I’m fairly well prepared research-wise, although I plan on taking a couple hours tonight to brush up on the company culture and so forth. I found a killer deal on a suit – plain black, but it fits just right and looks so professional, but I still need to find a nice top to wear under it. I was thinking maybe royal blue, definitely something with color. All black just looks so austere, you know? And um … funeral-ish.

The HR person who scheduled my interview left a message yesterday asking me to return her call. I called back as soon as I could and left a message but a few hours went by and I didn’t hear back from her. I called again and got sent directly to voice mail, so I left another brief message – but still nothing for another couple hours. I called immediately after work, voice mail, hung up. Called again a bit later, right to voice mail. I started getting paranoid because there were a couple questions I needed answered. Just when the panic was about to get the best of me, she actually answered when I called, whew. My time slot got moved back a couple hours to 3:00 PM; apparently she double-booked the interviewer, so I stepped up and told her I was flexible and didn’t mind changing my time. Thinking I scored a couple extra points with that.

Anywhore – all set on this end. Keep me in your thoughts, my babies. I need your help on this one.

Chris is really a freaking imbecile.

Another old friend found me on Facebook yesterday and I spent a good part of the day emailing and texting back and forth with him. We worked together in my hometown back in the day but I haven’t talked to him in something like 17-18 years. I remembered him as this tall, skinny sort of geeky kid, nice enough but really not my type. And it was long enough ago that because he was five years younger than me, the age difference clinched the idea that he was strictly in the Friendship Zone. We hung out with a lot of the same people, so we knew each other pretty well and I remember him to be above-average in the likeability department.

Well, my friends, time has certainly passed, he is no longer a skinny geek and five years? What the hell is five years in Cougar-world? It’s a good start, that’s what it is. He’s a paramedic with a fire department in a town about 20 miles from me; next week he is teaching a health care provider CPR/AED class at a medical center right across the road from where I work. We’re getting together when he’s done with his class, so …

Chris is dumb and I have a date with a fireman – BUHAHAHHAHAHAH!

Did I mention that Chris is dumb?