Because I am realizing that I’m really, really not good at the whole making-moves thing.

Okay, in my defense, maybe that’s partly because there’s a bit of history with the people involved. But still. I feel like this is all much easier for other people.

Friends, can you stand just a little bit of whiny bitching? You can? You are such a rockstar. I will totally return this favor for you someday.

So I went to the Squirrel’s tonight, which started off more complicated than it should have, but the upshot was that the Squirrel, Jason & I ended up hanging out together early. Which was okay, because I was so the bigger person with Jason, though I haven’t seen him since he pissed me–and Slapback–off on Saturday.

So then StillTalking came over, and then Bad Idea. No SoapStar tonight–that situation has been beyond complicated, since apparently she’s sort of sleeping with both Bad Idea and the Squirrel. (Jesus, who does she think she is, me? I mean, seriously.)

So there was some drinking, and I picked a couple mean little arguments with StillTalking, because I just cannot deal with talking to her anymore. And then it was getting late, and the Squirrel was promising to throw us out soon, and Bad Idea and I were joking about driving to San Francisco together tonight, goddamn it, and then we–me and Bad Idea–thought we should go to the bar. And I thought that would be a damn fine idea. And then the Squirrel says to me, well, you’ve been drinking, you can’t leave. You should hang out here. And I’m all, dude, too much weirdness, and I’m so not drunk, and what are you asking me, anyway? I need to go.

But then we–me, Bad Idea, and Jason–got outside, and Jason said, You both should just go home, and I said Who are you, my dad? And Bad Idea said Jason, don’t worry, see you later, and then it was just me and Bad Idea, standing in the middle of the street.

And you KNOW I was wishing I’d already made the Dangerous Mood mix, because I could have just said, Hey, Bad Idea, I just made this great mix. Want to come listen to it in my car? Or, like, We can listen to it while we drive to the bar. But no. I had no Dangerous Mood mix. Only a Dangerous Mood, with nowhere to go. And Bad Idea said, well, I want to go out, but I have to work in the morning, and maybe we should just go out tomorrow night. See you at the bar tomorrow night? Do you need a ride home? And I said, fine, bar tomorrow, no I’m fine, do you need a ride home? And of course he didn’t. So fine. Hug. Bar tomorrow. When the SoapStar is bound to be out and fucking up my game, again. Whatever.

So I came home. And, friends, hasn’t my whole night been kind of disappointing? So wouldn’t it be a drag, then, if GB was still not home from bowling with Blanche? And, when GB finally came home, if he came home with Blanche, who was clearly here to spend the night? Because you know I’m okay with GB doing whatever (though WHY his attention is still even a little on Blanche is beyond me), and you know that I would be at Bad Idea’s house right now, drinking and listening to dangerous mixes and making out like 15 year olds until I eventually got sent home, if only that had worked out a little bit differently. Like, if only I ever pushed just a smidge more. (He already called me a Bad Influence once tonight…such a short step from there to a Fabulous Encounter, to a Horrible Mistake.)

So I’m not begrudging GB his little whatever with Blanche tonight, but I did tell him that I’d had such a disappointing night, and that it was so not the best night for this all. But that’s part of the deal, and the problem, with the long-term poly stuff–it doesn’t always line up equally. GB, almost always, is smoother than I am, though occasionally the whole being-a-girl thing works in my favor. But just because I’m disappointed that I came home early, and alone–that doesn’t mean that GB’s plans need to change. And to our credit, we’ve gotten much better with this whole thing. I told him I was disappointed, and that this was a bad night for this stuff for me, and that I kind of wish he’d called to tell me first; he told me he was sorry, and that he loves me best, and offered to take me to the Indian buffet on Saturday. And then I remembered that I’d be at Bad Idea’s right now if I could, and decided that I could work with that.

But, about that title….my suave, smooth, funkadelic friends: how can I work the ending-up-at-Bad-Idea’s tomorrow night? (And how do I stop being such an impatient freak about not getting what I want?)

ETA: Blanche went home (more about her & the Wrangler’s deal than about me or GB, though I may have had something to do with it on GB’s end), GB and I sat up and had more beers and he was incredibly patient and incredibly kind about my recent bad mood, my tremendously bad self-esteem lately, and Things In General. He made me feel a million times better, and he stayed up with me until 4am, even though he has to work in the morning (not that early, but still…). Seriously, is it any wonder that the girls (and boys, though less of them on this coast than in SF) are falling all over themselves to spend time with GB? He is just All Good.

And I’ve decided that tomorrow, I’m just out of this mood. Enough, already.

I wonder if I still get treated to the Indian buffet this weekend, though…