Why do so many of you doubt he could be clueless? I think he's completely in need of clues. I want to paint a blue paw print on Teppy's ass, and super-impose a lip print on top of that.

I refuse to believe that a 38-year-old man is unaware of the signals he's sending via his behavior. If he was attuned enough to pick up on the fact that I was interested in him, he's GOT to be aware of his own behavior.

Oh, no. No. No. No. No he doesn't.

Clue.less.

I suspect he doesn't want to be like those people who say, "I only think of you as a friend," and then go on to demonstrate that apparently their definition of friend means "Someone I avoid like the plague."

But shoulder rubbing? Clueless.

But shoulder rubbing? Clueless.

Probably thinking "Here I am with my buddy Teppy, doing innocent buddy things. We're just all good buddies and I'm not at all thinking boy-girl stuff, just hangin' with my bud."

This could be true. And some people are flirts.(I, personally, have to like somebody That Way to do that, and I wouldn't even know how without the Bitches, but this is not true of of everyone.)

I suspect he doesn't want to be like those people who say, "I only think of you as a friend," and then go on to demonstrate that apparently their definition of friend means "Someone I avoid like the plague."

t nods frantically

This. This makes sense. Though the preferred method used by guys with clues is awkward civility with absolutely no touching of any kind, and much awkwardness, for a month or two, followed by careful friendship, followed by both of you meeting someone else and getting married, allowing you to finally act like normal friends on the rare occasions your lives take you to the same end of I-90. (Like, I think we'd be really truly be great friends by now if it weren't for the whole thing where he and his wife are in Boston while Dylan and I are in Seattle.)

Maybe we should change "crush!boy" to an imperative?

Textbook case of asymptotic distribution of eigenvalues for damped string equations.

Gud, it's not nice to tease.

Why do so many of you doubt he could be clueless? I think he's completely in need of clues. I want to paint a blue paw print on Teppy's ass, and super-impose a lip print on top of that.

Ahahahahahahahahahahaha t catches breath hahahahahahahahahahaha!

wrod.

Thanks for all the "don't date but date" advice, guys. Normally, that would definitely be my strategy - it's how most of my OTHER relationships have gotten started - but for reasons that are far too difficult to explain (they have to do with her odd perspectives on friendship and relationships, which are fascinating, but complicated, and possibly something I shouldn't be sharing to random folks on the internets anyway), not necessary the best strategy in this case. The formal conversation/dates could be a necessary thing for her mentality. I'm still trying to figure it out.

And I have been trying the go-for-smoochies thing. My smoochie attempts are existent, just not quite returned. But also not rejected in any clear fashion. That's the weird. I really am not being very subtle in my affections - I would think it would have led to a rejection or an acceptance by now, but no, still stuck in somewhere-in-between land.

Teppy: Crush!Boy sounds confused. He's probably a man-ho. Or maybe, um, okay I got nuthin.

As far as I know, though, NOBODY thinks of shoulder-rubbing as innocent buddy things, unless they're really good friends whose sexual tension is clearly nonexistent. Shoulder rubbing is flirting, straight up, one of the CLASSIC flirts (heck, nerdy prepubescent boys are fond of employing it on TV - see Freaks and Geeks) and if he was doing that and not flirting than he's really, really stupid. Or just a natural flirt who's forgotten that you have emotions and is flattered by your interest so likes to keep that going even if he won't give you anything of himself. Which makes him an asshole. Or he's changing his mind, very quickly, which makes him confused and still stupid, and also possibly an asshole.

Not a good guy, anyway. Bah on his face.

I have a job interview today. I know that "part-time" means "no benefits." (How I miss the Good Job that let me go last year). Sadly, instead of feeling all pumped up and ready to shine, I feel resentful, bored, frightened and very reluctant to put on pantyhose and the expensive blue suit to go to a strange place to write down all my personal information - aGAIN. Why do they all say, "We've had over a hundred applicants already." They want me to be demoralized, knowing they have plenty of desperate people to choose from, and they'll probably pick one who's younger, prettier and more suave than I could ever be?

The morning paper says that the median home price down in Silicon Valley is now in the $700 K range. I get to watch the market accelerating without me, oh joy. Too bad I never could afford to hop on. I think my retirement option is "Bag lady."

This post brought to you by Disillusionment, Despair and Lots of Whining about it.