I guess that's just what I get (or, D is for Disaster)

Well, it's been a fucking dramatic holiday, that's for damned sure. 

But now I just got the bloody cherry on top.  I could gussy this up and make it a really nicely written blog, all gripping and stuff but I'm actually too annoyed and disillusioned right now.

I was going out with this girl.  We'll call her "Blondie". Because against my usual type, she's a blue-eyed blonde, almost as tall as me.  Now, she apparently considers that going out a couple times and having me pay for everything doesn't equal "dating".  Yeah, that was a red flag, and I did see it, but all the other indicators seemed good so I let it pass. Granted things were in the early stages, but how is that not "dating"? If you go on dates, you're dating, right? 

Anyway, right in the beginning she mentions that she prefers guys who are communicative. Right, I can do that.  Hell, I'm a fucking champion at that.  So no worries there. 

I didn't exactly bombard her with emails and texts. Really, I didn't.  I think I was pretty restrained, actually.  If she didn't answer, I pretty much left her alone. 

Thing is, after the second date, she got to not answering more often than not.  This was puzzling, but she said she tends to wax and wane on the communication.  Okay, weird but I'll go with it for now. 

Then disaster struck on Christmas night: My keys were stolen.  I couldn't get in my house or my car. I didn't want to freeze my ass off camping out on my doorstep if I could avoid it. So I took a chance and sent her a message asking for help. A warm place to crash on Christmas night.

She was not sympathetic or inclined to help at all.  Her response was pretty much, "WTF? Don't know what to tell you." Wow, thanks. 

Something else unpleasant happened too, something disrelated, but I'm not going to bring that up here. Suffice it to say, it was a really crappy night. Although I did eventually get into the house and to bed, without having to wait for the groundskeepers to come to work. 

Today I log on to MySpace and discover she's changed her status: "[Blondie] is giving up on dating."

A MySpace breakup, Blondie?  Really?  And an indirect one at that?  

I guess that's just what I deserve for dating a blonde.  Just like I deserved to have my keys stolen for leaving my coat unattended for a few minutes.  

Sometimes it's really hard to keep the faith here. I know there are good people out there. I even personally know good people.  And I consider myself a good person. But with the events of the past four days, it's putting my willingness to trust people under a lot of strain. 

And people bloody wonder why I tend to keep to myself. Psh. 

But in writing this, I also realized the other side of this:  Upon hearing of my ordeal on Thursday night, a friend came by on Friday night and her company kind of warmed my chilled heart, as cheesy as that sounds. And a couple other friends gave me some much-needed information and reassurance in relation to the other crappy thing that happened.  

So, really, for every person who knocked me down, there's been another who helped me get back to my feet, who dusted me off and helped me feel a little safer. 

I can't always get what I want.  Occasionally feels like I can't ever get what I want. But even so, sometimes I do get what I need.  And I wouldn't be me if I didn't rather focus on that.