The Smug Singleton Projection

See, look at me, understanding a bad workweek is influencing my inclination to say, "Fuck this, I'm going home, and why is this New OkCupid Guy getting all bitchface at me? [He's not, at all, my brain is just breaking.] I'm never dating again. No one's dick is worth me having to get Date Pretty, what with the showering and the shaving things and the being charming -- I have no charm, I hate everyone. I am officially OK dying sexless, peach fuzzy, and alone with my blankets and books."

I KNOW WHEN I'M PROJECTING, SHITDICK ELBOW HECKLER.

Ahem. I feel better now.

I'm probably not the only crazy person on OkCupid.

Oh, OK. So I can be messaging back and forth with a perfectly nice guy from OkCupid, and inadvertently say something that reminds me of my ex, then of That Guy, then back to my ex, and now I'm crying?

Sure, yeah -- I am absolutely ready to be dating, even casually. It will not end badly at all. 

I understand this is how I move on, and I'm sure a time will come when it doesn't feel like cheating, but...not so far. 

I could blame PMS, but I think I might just be ready to embrace my obvious destiny to die sexless and alone.

We'll just add this to the therapy list. That woman is earning her money.

Not OK, Cupid. Not OK.

I'm infinitely amused that OkCupid won't let me re-open my account, at least not right now. There's some kind of error, so they told me to check back later.

It should be a more detailed error, like, "Are you sure? Remember all those unsolicited offers of butt stuff?"

Yes, OkC, I do, but I need to at least make out with someone soon before I die from lack of kissing, which is a thing that can totally happen, shut up.

Relieving emotional tension < relieving sexual tension.

Between hormones and holiday stress, I just ended up Ugly Crying over something incredibly stupid, and now my brain is convinced I am unlovable and will die alone. So that's always fun. I think these particular feelings will need to be handled via pizza.

I almost never cry, so storing it all up for the twice-yearly Ugly Cry is sort of like when I finally get laid -- I never realize how long it's been since I've done it, so I just explode from the catharsis of it all. It generally works out much better during sex, but the result is the same: I end up collapsed in an exhausted, lifeless heap. And I feel a lot better. And I demand snacks.

In which Facebook suggests I die alone.

"Suggested Post" is apparently code for "Making sure you stay single."

Unexpected Pixar rage.

I'd steeled myself to feel all the feels and FINALLY go see Inside Out.

But what I did NOT prepare for was the bullshit short cartoon they showed before the movie. It was about a lonely boy volcano, with a face, looking for volcano love, singing an insufferable song about being a lonely volcano and not being able to find a lady volcano.*

Now I have a goddamn VOLCANO reminding me that I'm dying alone?! A VOLCANO needs a soulmate?

Thanks for reminding me I'm at the movies alone, Bitch Volcano. Maybe you need to look inside yourself for validation -- did you ever think of that?

Pixar can go fuck itself. In 3D.

* "Lady volcano" is my new favorite euphemism for my vagina.