Archive | January 2015

Trivia Crack is Not a Dating App

Contrary to popular belief, Trivia Crack is not a good place to pick up girls. Especially if you’re strangers. Or maybe it’s even worse when you know each other in person. The point is, girls won’t fall to your feet just because you can get the sports questions right. The following two examples (with tasteful commentary) prove my point:

Specimen #1

Specimen #1 is a random person that I started playing against back when I first made my account and didn’t realize that all of my friends were already playing. He (or it could technically be a she … I have made no attempt to clarify this) has a gender-neutral username and his/her account isn’t attached to a Facebook page, so there’s no picture identification of this person. My account, however, displays my profile picture. Keep that in mind as you ponder the following real-life pickup attempt:

January 01, 2015

Happy new year my dear! (I have never communicated with this person before. The “dear” was unwarranted.)

Happy new year to you too

January 20, 2015

What state are you in?

Michigan, you?

California, from Ireland

Oh wow, that’s cool

Not really but at least it’s warm 🙂

It must be freezing where you are

   How do you get your pic on the profile?

I linked the account to my Facebook so I think that’s why my picture shows up

Oh, I don’t have Facebook 😩

Yeah that’s your problem then haha

No worries. Nobody wants to see this face anyway. Lol

Hahaha (I have no idea what this person’s face looks like, I’m not going to compliment it.)

January 23, 2015

Wow, you’re up late (It was 1:43 a.m.)

Yes haha

And doing good too (I was kicking his ass.)

Thanks I try

January 26, 2015

Wow. You do your best work late huh ? (It was 12:42 a.m.)

Yes I guess so!

Not that you need your beauty sleep (He honestly can’t even see my face very clearly in the little thumbnail of my full-body profile picture.)

Haha thanks

God, I hate art questions

I can’t do the sports ones

Wow. Look at you ! Not just a pretty face huh ? (Again, he can barely even see my face.)

Haha I do my best.

* * *

This whole conversation just makes me cringe. The anonymity is what’s weirding me out. Like does he want me to compliment him back? I have no reference of who he is or what he looks like or anything. Am I supposed to say “Aww no I want to see your face” when he self-depricates? I don’t even know his name, or that he is actually a he. Am I truly destined to meet my one true love on Trivia Crack? Is this where my life begins?


Specimen #2

This one is even more convoluted because I know this guy in real life. He went to my high school, dated someone I would loosely define as a friend for THREE YEARS, then came to the same college as me and cheated on that girl for an extended period of time with his current girlfriend. Girlfriend#1 discovered Girlfriend#2 when Girlfriend#2 posted pictures of her and the boy kissing on Facebook. He told Girlfriend#1 that he “would have broken up with one of them eventually,” which I thought was super sweet. I wish a boy would treat me like that *fans self*.

Anyway, I see him around campus once in a while. Seeing as though we literally never interacted in high school, we have mutually ignored each other’s presence on campus for a year and a half, and that was going swimmingly. I was thrilled to continue this cycle until this critical event in my life:

January 14, 2015

This might be weird since we never talked in high school, but I see you around campus a lot and have been meaning to reach out to you for a while and ask how things have been going :p (Yeah, it is weird.)

January 15, 2015

I’m good! How have you been? I see you all the time haha (See how quickly I can enter fake bitch mode?)

I’ve been alright haha. You’re the only familiar face I see around here and I’ve been meaning to say something but never have (Oh? Are you not counting the other 10 people who came here from our high school?)

Yeah I’ve got you haha. I do that to pretty much everyone we went to high school with

January 16, 2015

I haven’t talked to anyone we’ve gone to high school with in a while haha. If you ever want to hang out or just talk or something you can text me. 999 999 9999. :p (Talk? What do we have to talk about? We have spent our entire lives ignoring each other.)

* * *

If this asshole seriously thinks I’m about to take him up on that offer, especially when he has a girlfriend and I know he just cheated on his previous one, he’s terribly wrong. I know what that tongue face means and I am not interested.


 

What is the lesson learned from all of this? Stick to using the messaging feature for calling your friends mean names and mocking their intelligence.

If you’re looking for romance, stick to Tinder. If you’re a long-lost soul and you want to reconnect with me, message me on Facebook like a normal person. Say hi to me in the cafeteria. Don’t hide behind the premise of an online game. Everyone should know by now that Trivia Crack is a game for us real intellectuals – today’s Einsteins. We don’t have time for pickup attempts, we just want to solve the world’s mysteries. Like what team so-and-so played for before making the winning play in the 1876 Superbowl.

 

Advertisements

Reasons I Love My Friends

I know that I’m not always the easiest person to be friends with, so it means a lot when people stick around. Recently, when things have looked bad, I’ve been thinking about how lucky I am to have so many supportive people surrounding me – especially those who don’t have to love me, but choose to anyway.

My friends (the ones from my hometown AND the ones from college) really are the ones who get me through the day. They turn on my light and drag me out of bed on the mornings that I just want to feel sorry for myself. They stop me from doing things like wearing my bathrobe to the cafeteria. They text me late at night to make lunch plans for the next day, and give me little things to look forward to. They pull double movies days with me. They brave the cold and walk outside with me, and let me take up too much space at the table.

They scoop my ice cream for me so I don’t bang my head on the freezer door again. They let me exist in their space when I just don’t want to be alone. They listen to me when I’m tired of listening to myself. They tell me I’m not making a fool out of myself, even when we count up the number of times I tried calling that boy and silently acknowledge that, yes, I have acted crazy, but it doesn’t need to be verbalized. They never make me feel like a burden.

They get excited for me when I start feeling high again, and don’t mention that there is probably another low coming down the road.

 

The Soup Explosion of 2015

Well, I’ve done it. I’ve secured my first injury for 2015.

It happened yesterday at work, but luckily there was only one witness. I was microwaving soup in a cute little ceramic bowl that I had been so excited to buy, but apparently the “microwaveable bowl” label does not include the plastic lid that came with it.

I’m not completely stupid, though, so I had rested the lid on top of the bowl leaving a crack for air to escape from, instead of sealing it completely. Apparently the soup gods want more from me, though, because when I took the soup out of the microwave I was greeted with an explosion of boiling chowder and solidified inferno in the form of potatoes. This splattered all over my hand, resulting in a loud expletive and an immediate blister.

“Run it under warm water so that it can absorb the heat,” said one of my coworkers. That seemed 100% counter-intuitive, so I settled for some day-old room temperature water from the inside of the water heater in the break room.

After an hour of sitting with my hand in a bowl of water, I finally broke down and went to the on-campus health center. The blister that was forming on top of the original blister seemed like a red flag.

Turns out I have second degree burns on my palm/wrist and first degree burns higher up, but luckily the burns temporarily damaged my nerves so I’m not in much pain. I got some cream and I have to keep my hand mummified in gauze for a few weeks. Luckily, it’s my left hand. I do get to shower one-handed, so I guess that’s something to look forward to.

“Six”

Can you not think about love for just six seconds

And maybe write a poem about something else?

Like maybe one of those ideas you etched

Into your skin with your fingernail

Or scribbled in the margin of your notebook

While you pulled out your hair

With the leftover taste in your mouth

And breathed six slow counts in

And six slow counts out

Just to set the rhythm

Six days out of seven.

– P.B.

“This is Not a Conversation”

For you, she whispered.

No, I don’t want to see you.

I can’t do that right now.

How was your weekend?

It’s okay if you don’t want to answer.

It was fine.

Tell me how you knew you loved me.

I can’t answer that.

Then why did you stop?

I don’t know if I did.

I know you are still in there, and

you will thank me for this one day.

Not today.

(Well, another day, then)

I’m sorry but I just need you

to tell me.

(Don’t you know it hurts to ask)

When did you know things weren’t right?

I’m going to bed.

(Please say this is bothering you too)

Do you even like me as a person?

You’re driving me crazy.

I feel crazy.

Did you know it was the last time

for everything? Did you premeditate

and count your steps like I do?

Yes, and every heartbeat, too.

I’m trying to be patient.

– P.B.

Tonight in Review: What the Fuck Just Happened?

Witch

Once in a while I’ll lose control and have a night that just gets out of hand. Tonight was (still is?) one of those nights. Mind you, there was no alcohol involved. Although perhaps that would have at least provided an excuse for my poor judgment and self-destructive behavior.

6:00 pm: Everything seems to be running smoothly. I eat dinner like a normal person and then head back to my dorm with my roommate. There are no signs of impending doom.

7:00 pm: I am 200% excited for a roller skating event on campus, and happy to get out and be social. Being single doesn’t seem all that bad – I’m going to be just fine.

8:00 pm: I roller skate for the first time since sixth grade. My legs do not remember how to operate on wheels, and I become a danger to the people around me. There are couples holding hands and bracing each other from falling. Must be nice.

9:00 pm: I take off my roller skates and begin a downward spiral into loneliness. This is not unusual – a couple of weeks ago, I cried at Disney World because I was afraid that I would never have anyone to share my favorite place with. If you’re ever single and want to get down on yourself, go sit at a bench in Magic Kingdom and watch all of the little families and honeymooners enjoying the happiest place on earth with their loved ones. I’m not always this negative, but the fear of growing up and having no one to share my life with always seems to hit me at the most inconvenient times.

10:00 pm: I make my roommate come home with me because I am suddenly ready to wrap myself in a cocoon and mope inside of it. In a complete lapse of judgment, I text not just one, but two of my exes, compromising all self-respect. I receive responses from neither, most likely because they both think I am a psychopath. This is probably because I occasionally try to reach out long after any hope of restoring a friendship is dead. This hypothesis is more likely to be true with one than with the other, but I have a feeling that they have both reached the same conclusion to steer absolutely clear of the crazy train. Unfortunately, I am riding the crazy train on a loop. And driving it. And also mining the coal to fuel it. I sort of embody the spirit of Tom Hanks in The Polar Express.

And now, I’m left feeling stupid and rejected and annoying and unwanted. I know this isn’t the case; I’m surrounded by friends and people I love, but I can’t help feeling this way. I knew I shouldn’t have contacted either of them, and I didn’t want to, either. Somehow my choices don’t reflect my own judgment. I haven’t even interacted with one of them since May. I don’t even particularly care if I never hear from him again, and I don’t even know what the point of texting him was. The more recent boy dumped me right before Christmas break and issued a no-contact order until we came back to school, insinuating that we would try to be friends when I moved back, but break has been over for a week and I’ve yet to hear from him. I’m tired of being the only one who wants to reach out, and I don’t think that he realizes how much it bothers me when he doesn’t reach back. The people around me are sick of hearing about it, and I just want someone to knock some sense into me. But not too hard because I probably have a weak bone structure and my nose is already a little crooked.

UPDATE: The boy I didn’t really care about hearing back from responded at 12:43 am and asked, “Are you drinking?” Absolutely not, but apparently that’s what my behavior implied. My self-pride was slightly restored by issuing a rude response.