Situation: normal.

Friday Afternoon

I notice Darcy is online. I send him a message saying, "I had a great time last night - thanks again." He replies with a message saying, "So did I!!! We'll have to do it again soon!!!" Darcy is a big fan of the unnecessary exclamation point, which I am willing to overlook.

It seems as if something more is called for. "We'll have to do it again soon...what are you doing this weekend?" should be the natural finish, but nothing more is forthcoming. Fine. Even though I hate myself for it, I reply that maybe we could do something this weekend.

Darcy replies sure, he was working until 6 on Saturday, heading up-island for a bit on Sunday -- maybe later on Sunday??? Darcy is also fond of the unnecessary question mark. This is a new and inexplicably ominous development.

After a little more chit-chat Darcy has to go because he's going to have a nap. I wish him a good rest, and say good-bye.

Excuses I am able to make on Darcy's behalf:

• He's a guy and therefore less concerned with details than I am -- perhaps in his mind this actually constitutes plans.
• Although a lesser person may find it slightly insulting that he would rather nap than talk to me, he's probably very tired. His job is demanding and he did have quite a bit to drink when we were out the night before.
• Everything. Is. Just. Fine. I'm being paranoid. He was really into me, and I'm being silly.

Despite appearing to be online Friday night, I don't hear from him. Out of frustration and the need to make it look like I have better things to do, I make it appear as if I'm offline. That will sure show him.

Instead of going out and doing anything productive however, I rent La Vie En Rose and spend the last half hour of the movie sobbing my eyes out and eating peanut butter off a spoon. I can't hardly believe I'm still single.

(Also, they should just hand Marion Cotillard the Oscar like, right now. I was covered in tears, snot and peanut butter and completely unable to wipe my face for fear of missing a single sub-title. That has to be worth something.)

Saturday Night

It's after 6:00 and Darcy is back from work. I know this because I'm answering some emails when I see him come online. I wait. I'm sure he'll say hello this time. I watch Cops and make some dinner. No message. I watch a second episode of Cops and eat the portion of my dinner meant for leftovers on Sunday. No message. I turn off my computer.

Excuses I am able to make on Darcy's behalf, again:

• He's exhausted from work, and just doesn't feel like talking.
• Maybe it just looks as if he's online, and is actually making dinner, taking a bath or being held hostage.
• Since we spoke briefly on Friday, he may not see the point in talking on Saturday. It's not like we have to talk everyday or anything...although we just about did before we actually met, but whatever.
• He went to work without a hardhat and suffered a blow to the head, causing selective amnesia.

Staying home and moping around would be pathetic and lame, when I could be out meeting somebody -- anybody else. I stay home and watch Superbad. As soon as it's professionally viable I'm renaming myself McLovin.

Sunday Morning

Today is the day Darcy suggested could work, emphasized with question marks of course. He's supposed to be going up-island, but it's still morning and he's online and so am I.

He's not making breakfast or in the bath or being held hostage because by coincidence, I notice he's online and checking his email within the dating site we connected on. He's obviously in the same room as his computer. I'm agonizing over what to do. Do I send him a message? What if it comes off as desperate?

Desperate be damned. I'm sending a message...but what to say? 'Hello,' seems too formal. 'Hi there' is too dorky. 'Hey' is too abrupt...Christ on a cracker. Good to see my Writing Degree is proving so useful.

I settle for 'Hey there.' It's a strong enough greeting to require some kind of acknowledgement while still seeming casual. I hit SEND and wait.

And wait. I make some tea. Toast an english muffin. Slather english muffin in peanut butter. Add banana slices to counteract the calories in the peanut butter, because everybody knows that's how it works.

Eat the muffin. Drink the tea. Check on my computer. Darcy is now offline. He saw my carefully crafted greeting, and didn't respond.

Excuses I'm able to make this time on Darcy's behalf:

• None. I got nothing. Absolutely nothing.

It is now Sunday evening. I check my email on Plenty of Fish, and can see that Darcy is online there again -- which is odd because he's not online on MSN. Interesting.

Thursday night I would have considered it crazy to think Darcy would block my address on MSN. Now I'm convinced he has.

Darcy is almost always online in the evenings. For him to be online in one place and not MSN is weird. Perhaps my choice of 'Hey there,' really was too forward.

This afternoon I was worrying about the logistics of hiring somebody good with a machete to take swift action with my fingers, toes, elbows, nose or anything else I could use to type with should I be tempted to send another message to Darcy at any point this week. It appears this problem is now moot, since I may not have the opportunity again anyway.

So now I'm left with the inevitable question. What in the f*ck happened????

Some possible explanations for just what in the f*ck happened:

• The ridiculous amount of Advil I take in a day caused me to hallucinate the entire date. (Although this doesn't explain how I came to be in possession of a card signed by a guy named Darcy... that would be really eerie if I hallucinated the entire thing.) Maybe I just hallucinated the good parts.
• He did have quite a bit to drink, as he took a taxi and I drove. Maybe he's an alcoholic and our entire date was spent in a blackout.
• Darcy decided he was going to show one woman the most amazing Valentine's Day of her entire life to atone for some sort of prior romantic sin. Job well done! He can now get into Hallmark Heaven.
• He was mocking me the entire time. Instead of meaning every nice thing he said to me, he was making fun of me.
• When he kissed me he didn't like the way I kissed back. Maybe I wasn't on my best game, thrown off by his command of hair stroking and lip-sucking. It's been a while since I've had a really good kiss after all.
• God hates me more than I previously thought. I'd been thinking our ongoing feud was based on some sort of grudging respect, but obviously this is not the case. Prick.

So for those worried I'd have nothing to write about if I was actually happy and in love with a guy in love with me...you naiive bitches. Bambi is back - I never left. Situation normal.