Dear Asshole,

You know, I just don't think you're ready for a girlfriend.

I should have known from the start the night was in for a bumpy ride when you responded "I'm tired" to my "How are you doing?".

It wasn't a greeting I usually receive from other dinner hosts.

I tried to let it slide, instead putting the two bottles of wine I brought over (a Bogle Merlot and a Mondavi Pinot Grigio) the homemade chocolate cheesecake and several dozen chocolate chip cookies. I understand that you were too busy cooking dinner to offer to help take a load off my arms, and I'll even forgive your ill manners in forgetting to ask to take my coat. The back of the dinner chair was just fine, thank you.

I was, I have to admit, rather impressed with your cooking skills. The sauteed shrimp were fabulous and the farfale pasta with the bleu cheese and asparagus was great, though next time I'd go a little bit more light handed on the cheese, and try steaming or blanching the asparagus instead of putting them in raw. A little tenderness goes a long way, and I suppose that's a lesson we both learned last night.

But I digress.

You bowled me over with your baked pasta dish with the crab stuffing. I am rather fond of spicy things, edible or otherwise, so you hit my fun spot with THAT dish, and it went perfectly with the Pinot. I also liked your grandmother's pound cake recipe. A true pound of butter and sugar, you say? Wow. I hadn't had strawberry shortcake in a long time, so dessert was a special treat.

The "Italian dinner" soundtrack in the background was a very endearing touch. I never thought I'd ever dine to the soundtrack of The Godfather. It actually was a great piece of ambiance that quite tickled me. Thanks for that. The rushing to the couch at the start of Survivor though, not so much a fan of that.

I mean, really. You'd rather watch Survivor than talk to me? I've heard that song "A little less talk and a lot more action," but come on, there was way more action going on that island in the Pacific than there was on your couch last night.

Team Palau 1 - Guy in Lexington, Kentucky Zip.

I also wasn't too keen on the whole leaning your body in the complete and utter opposite direction as mine while sitting on the couch. I don't have any contagious diseases, and if I did, well I'm fairly certain you would have caught them when we were swimming together in the hot tub Wednesday night. Last I recall it was YOU jamming your tongue down my throat. But these are the little details, right?

Back to the whole leaning away thing.

I don't know if you were trying to hide your little blanky, tucked in deep beneath the cushion and the arm of the couch, maybe you were having a back spasm and felt the need to stretch and contort yourself in a certain direction, but still, if that's the case you would have taken me up on my offer for a back rub.

Do you get now just how much I didn't like the leaning away thing?

The nail in the coffin last night was your emotional unresponsiveness when I chose to press the envelope and lean against you. Normally you initiate such behavior, I decided I'd check to see what kind of response I'd get on my own. Your lack of response was sign enough for me, buddy.

Pulling away, I started planning my escape.

Would I bow out at the next commercial break? Would I wait to see if you'd warm up during the casual, boob tube watching? So many thoughts and questions running through my mind. I decided it was time to call it a night when you seemed far more engrossed in Michael Jackson's secret life than you did my own.

Did I surprise you when I got up to put my coat on? It was the perfect punctuation to your feigned yawn and stretch at the start of a commercial break. A day later a friend tells me this is sometimes the M.O. for a guy trying to get a girl to the bedroom. I have to say I'd disagree where you're concerned.

You are a man of mystery, my friend. You say you want a girlfriend. Then act like it. I am a woman men stare at. I am a women other chicks envy. I'm smart, sexy, talented in many respects and hard working. I have a strong connection with God and love to cook. I follow the brackets every March and I drive a stick shift. Any man would be lucky to date me, so I ask you this: Do you still want a girlfriend, or perhaps you only want a bad girlfriend? Because I am the kind of woman who could make all your dreams come true, as long as you play your cards right.

And by the looks of it, your hand is pretty shitty.

Thanks for the apologetic text message today. Haven't responded yet, and I'm not quite sure when I will. I'm very busy and my opposable thumbs hurt something awful so I'm not in any position to get back with you at this point.

I've had a great day, thanks for asking.

I slept in and went to the gym with a good friend. Today I spent quite a bit of time working on my arms and legs, and the other fine looking gentlemen in the gym took notice, I must say.

Spent some time at the mall and hit The Gap up during sale time. Got two cute tops and a sweet pair of jeans. No, I don't think they'll be spending time on your floor any time soon.

I also got a haircut and highlight.

Blonde. Kate Blonde.

Since you're not worldly in the ways of women, let me just tell you, there are few things more magical than a girl's time spent in a salon. Those few brief hours invigorate and infuse her with the most incredible energy, confidence and sex appeal.

Needless to say, I won't be wasting any of this magic on you.

I'll be out tonight, so please don't bother to call me. The club is really loud and so I won't be hearing my phone ring. And well... it's not worth putting it on vibrate either, because that would just excite my dance partner too much.

So cheers, have a great time looking for a shitty girlfriend. I haven't completely written you off because you do have a few redeeming qualities, but I have to admit you'll be getting quite the cold shoulder, so you'll have to work overtime to turn things around.

If that doesn't happen, then cheers, I wish you the best.

Kate the Great