What the fuck?
I've just found out (via bloody Facebook) that the Londoner was most likely cheating on me. Bastard. I'm not bitter and twisted because I want him back...I'm bitter and twisted because he screwed me over. That hurts.
With hindsight, I am pleased we split because now it means I'm going back to England and seeing Ross. Plus, the Londoner really couldn't spell all that great (he wasn't the brightest spark in the box) and got mixed up with his exclamation marks and question marks?!?!? Seriously.
And he didn't last all that long. Or want it all that much. Which is really not good enough. Besides, sex only gets you so far.
I'm just not used to being cheated on and dumped! What the fuck.
Rant over.
Thanks for listening.
Showing posts with label Facebook. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Facebook. Show all posts
Monday, June 8, 2009
Thursday, June 4, 2009
Oh! Sorry, I forgot I existed for a second there...
I'm sat here with my cup of tea, as per usual, typing and clicking away on Facebook with my glasses on...looking very English as I sip my tea with my little finger in the air...
...and who should add me on Facebook but Number 20. As in, he wasn't even memorable enough to give him a fake name...the only reason I have any recollection of who he is, is because you always remember your multiples of '10'. At least I do, anyway. When you have had more than 20 men, before you have had 20 years of life, you remember each decade with disturbing clarity.
I recently 'culled' a lot of Facebook friends...I had around 400 friends, of which I culled to around 200. Even now, I swear to God, I couldn't name 200 people I know. I guess Number 20 was one who just didn't make the cut, even in Cyberspace. Who are these people?! I don't care what they are doing, or how they are feeling. Forget 'Sam is...' more like 'Who is Sam?'
But I feel bad clicking 'ignore' on friend requests. So I don't. I just kind of...leave them there. In Reject-cyberspace. Eventually, they fade away. And I don't feel bad.
It's like when you see someone you know but don't want to talk to on the street. And you either look at your phone as you pass them, or look behind you as though you heard a noise, or (my favourite) look into the distance as though you are SO engrossed in your own, deep, meaningful thoughts, that you don't even notice what world you are in.
Then, if they do talk to you, you can sort of 'jump' in shock - not just at seeing them, but at the mear idea you actually exist outside of your own head...
Just me that does that? Ok then...
...and who should add me on Facebook but Number 20. As in, he wasn't even memorable enough to give him a fake name...the only reason I have any recollection of who he is, is because you always remember your multiples of '10'. At least I do, anyway. When you have had more than 20 men, before you have had 20 years of life, you remember each decade with disturbing clarity.
I recently 'culled' a lot of Facebook friends...I had around 400 friends, of which I culled to around 200. Even now, I swear to God, I couldn't name 200 people I know. I guess Number 20 was one who just didn't make the cut, even in Cyberspace. Who are these people?! I don't care what they are doing, or how they are feeling. Forget 'Sam is...' more like 'Who is Sam?'
But I feel bad clicking 'ignore' on friend requests. So I don't. I just kind of...leave them there. In Reject-cyberspace. Eventually, they fade away. And I don't feel bad.
It's like when you see someone you know but don't want to talk to on the street. And you either look at your phone as you pass them, or look behind you as though you heard a noise, or (my favourite) look into the distance as though you are SO engrossed in your own, deep, meaningful thoughts, that you don't even notice what world you are in.
Then, if they do talk to you, you can sort of 'jump' in shock - not just at seeing them, but at the mear idea you actually exist outside of your own head...
Just me that does that? Ok then...
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
