Bad Blogger

I am a bad blogger. Really, with this whole only dating the Frobbit thing I've been doing, life is boring. I can't really blog about the Frobbit and all of his CRAP (and sweet mother of pearl, is there a lot!!) until after we finally call it quits on this mess...so until then, I will just discuss the fact that I am not sure why I date him. So let's discuss:

He's short. Since when do I date short men? (FYI, if you look at the picture, he looks tall but I'm 4'11 - and a half! so he's not that tall, I just make French Hobbits look tall!!) I've now realized why I don't date short men. There really is such a thing as short man syndrome. I didn't think it was true, but it totally is!!

He's French. Now listen, my dad is from NB and I grew up with a dislike for Francophones ingrained in me. I admit that at first I found the accent ANNOYING but now I like it. On the few occasions he speaks French in front me, I actually quite enjoy it. Now that I know that "poussette" is a term of endearment and does not mean go kart or squawky chicken, I quite like it. Although I confess that I made such a huge deal out of him calling me a squawky chicken that he no longer calls me that. Sad face!

He's not my "type". Do you see a soul patch on that mug? A scar? A shaved head? Are there bulging biceps and tattoos? Nope, not a one. He is also not social. At all. The man hates going dancing, going to a pub, going to parties full of my crazy friends. He is definitely not an extrovert!

He's broken. Guys, remember when I said I would no longer date projects? I inadvertently found the biggest project in the history of the world. Like, broken on epic proportions. He's chronically commitment-phobic (worse than I am even!!), doesn't show affection easily or say sweet things very often and I won't even start on all the past emotional traumas he's had. Which of course means I am probably madly in love with him, right?

On the flip side, he does have good traits. He's FABULOUS with my littlest spawn and the big kids like him. He has no issues with telling me when I'm being a smidge bossy (I know, it's shocking that I could be at all forceful, right?). When we hang out and sit on the couch, which pretty much accounts for 98% of our time as a couple, it's very comfortable.

Why must I turf him? He just can't get his Frobbit life together. That and the fact that he lied to me about some important issues for almost a year...and that he has an ex that is apparently never, EVER going to go away. To the point that I am no longer sure she's actually an ex.

Sometimes, in the blog world, we just write things to get them off our chest or to see it in print and realize just how black and white an issue is. This, I think, is one of those times.

All I can promise is this: When the Frobbit and I are done, I will itemize every single reason he's a jerkface. Although it will make me feel stupid, the cathartic side of it is too valuable to pass up.

This also means that I will likely start dating again...and you all remember how bad my dates are, right? Which reminds me, I have more dating stories of times past for you!!