A month ago: after two dates (and perhaps some saki), Dan told me he loved me and suggested we go to Las Vegas to get married. Proposing to a virtual stranger is one thing; telling them you love them? Freaks. Me. Out. I warned him, told him to stop with the nonsense because, truthfully, I was just looking for a fun drinking partner that didn't live too far away.
3 weeks ago: Dan & I met my sister Tiffany and her most recent/probably-soon-to-be-ex-boyfriend for drinks and got into a huge fight that included a stony-silent drive home. Correction: HE got into a huge fight because I was disrespectful by letting her tell a story about a man I had kissed in a bar. Forgive my lack of omnipotence, but am I really supposed to control everyone else's stories? He said he didn't want to see me again, I casually said, "fine, whatever", but when he called the next day to apologize and begged me to go to the beach for the weekend, I agreed.
2 weeks ago: he dumped me again because I couldn't tell him if he was wasting his time with me. I told him I no longer wanted to ride his bipolar express when he pleaded with me to go away for the weekend, like nothing had happened, a few days later.
The plot thickens: apparently Crazy Dan has been dating a woman, Lise, off and on for the past year. She contacted me through a mutual friend because she wasn't sure I was aware that he was already in a relationship. When we realized he'd proposed to and asked BOTH of us to go to Ohio over Thanksgiving to meet his family, it became a "you can have him", "no, you take him" battle for the roller-coaster drama queen.
Lise and I have been emailing back and forth, sending photos, and exchanging ideas for the perfect confrontation. She's amazing - an intelligent, funny, animal crusading cutie. Truthfully, I like her much more than I ever liked Crazy Dan. Oh, this is gonna be good...