Charming, but single

(Re: The post title -- I couldn't think of anything else to put.) Had a pretty good day. I ran some errands and such. Not a lot to report about the day. I almost didn't go out. I had planned to do something with a good friend, but she ended bailing because she didn't feel good. After making a few phone calls, I blasted off a text message to a girl I'm friends with but rarely hang out with anymore. This was a last-ditch effort, as the social circle that once linked us has spread out and broken apart considerably. So, I see this girl every few months for drinks. Her plans for the evening hadn't worked out either, so we decided to get a drink at one of the city's nicer bars. (To say "nicer" may be an overstatement. The crowd that goes there is what makes it nicer, in my eyes anyway. It's a slightly older, mid 20s to early 30s crowd that drinks pretentious martinis and other pseudo-fancy drinks. The music is better and you can generally sit, rather than hovering aimlessly in everyone else's way.) I have a love-hate relationship with the bar. I love the atmosphere and the array of martinis, but I hate that I always spend too much money when I go there. I decided on Saturday that I wasn't having even one overpriced martini -- even though the cosmos speak to me. Instead, I opted for the less expensive wine. We huddled in a comfy circular booth and gossiped. This girl is the source for gossip about people I know. (Yes, I know gossiping about other people is very high schoolish. And yet I don't care.) I got a list of updated couplings, which was amazingly similar to the last list of couplings, a sure sign that I am old. I updated her about my boys, or semi lack thereof and she updated me on her current boys and her psycho ex. (Her ex is a loser that few people liked because he is generally just an asshole who didn't treat her well at all.) Having both spent time in situations where we acted like psycho girls in love (her with the ex and me with B), we agreed that sometimes you just have to get your heart smashed in pieces before you realize what a fool you're being. No amount of tantrum-pitching by your friends will do, which is terrible and unfortunate. (Although, I do admit that I wish someone would have taken me by the shoulders and shaken me after I let a certain boy make me cry in a bar in front of pretty much everyone I knew. A story for another day.) This all plays into the whole theory behind He's Just Not That Into You, a book that I am pissed that I like. Obviously, thinking "he's just not that into me," could have saved me time during the whole B situation. However, I'm annoyed that I can pretty much predict that nothing will happen with T if the book is right, which it probably is. Basically, that situation is one of convenience -- we'll hook up when we're around each other, but he's never going to go out of his way to see me. And to think, the conversation was so nice.