I can’t believe it! I hate men, so much, sometimes! They say women play games? I beg to differ!

I met this super sexy (and SUPER stylish) guy, about a year ago. We’ve talked on and off, mainly through email and text messages. We, finally, hung out earlier this year; then, again, a month later.

Now, he’s different; he’s not Italian. Haha! I joke, but really, I’ve only had ever had successful relationships with Italians. He’s over six feet tall, with brown hair, sensitive eyes and looks like a total rock star.

I considered myself “over him” because things never went anywhere and I hardly heard from him. The last time we talked, I had the last word…which, as lame as it sounds, I hate having the last word with someone I’m interested in; it makes me feel needy. It’s completely ridiculous, but, strangely, it makes me self-conscious.

So, I’m walking to my car after a brief trip to Target and I hear my phone ring; the short ring meant it was a text message. I didn’t bother checking it right away, and I forgot about it for a few hours. (I’m not addicted to my phone…weird, I know!) I, finally, checked it when I was about to make a call and noticed the unread text; it was FROM HIM. Matt.

“Hey! How’s life?”
How do I respond to that? I’m attracted to him, but he hadn’t thought to contact me in a few months. I laughed, out loud. Why, men? Why must you play this weird game?

Long story short…we’re hanging out this weekend. Now, don’t ask me if “hanging out” makes it a “date” because I don’t know what constitutes a date anymore. In the US, it seems that “hanging out” could mean anything from dating to friendship. In Italy, however, you know someone’s intentions before you know their name. I like the latter; it makes me feel less like an awkward high-schooler and more like a woman on the dating scene.

We’ll see how it goes. Los Angeles is a difficult place to date. I’ve yet to put my finger on, exactly, why that is.

In other news, I’m super excited for tonight! The girls and I are heading out to the club. I’ve got this new yellow silk mini-dress from Club Monaco (A COLOR NO ONE SHOULD SHY AWAY FROM!). It looks even sexier with my red L.A.M.B. pumps. I think Matt might be there tonight. I mentioned I was going to the club and he said he was going to the same one. Coincidence? Either way, the yellow dress makes me feel—and look—like a ray of sunshine. I’m sure I’ll turn some heads! All the single ladies…