OK, I can't even find the post anymore where somebody mentioned the "He's just not that in to you" book, but I was curious and looked it up on Amazon. Then I mentioned it to housemate Barb and she said she HAS it. So here I am sitting and reading it. Some things are funny, some painfully true, some both. And then it hits me. I need the sequel: "What to do when you've MARRIED a guy who's not that in to you."
I knew Bill for several years where we used to work. I thought I was pretty cool and he had NO idea that I had a thing for him (excuse #1) but it turned out that apparently everybody there knew. For years I was around 'buddying' with him. I was sure he didn't want a work place romance with all the gossip (excuse #2) and besides, he's a really shy, quiet guy (excuse #3.) But the following quote from Greg Behrendt hit home: "When a guy is into you, he lets you know it. He calls, he shows up, he wants to meet your friends, he can't keep his eyes or hands off of you, and when it's time to have sex, he's more than overjoyed to oblige. I don't care if he's starting this new job as the president of the United States the next morning at 0400. He's coming up!"

Not a relationship I ever had with Bill, or ever will. It should never have to occur to me that somewhere in his makeup, maybe he's not 100% straight? He shouldn't be the one man in my history that makes me feel the ugliest (excuse #4 "well, I AM the ugliest I've ever been.)
Then there was: "He's a man made up entirely of your excuses. The minute you stop making excuses for him, he will completely disappear from your life." Closing my eyes, no excuses, open my eyes... Still there, but only kinda-sorta-sometimes. Yup - I need the sequel!
I could go on, but this is as morbid as I want to get. Not even sure if I'll post this. It's a really funny book, and actually I wish I'd read it while I was still single and had the opportunity to be liberated to go look for Mr. Right. Thirty years ago would have been good, and every year thereafter. Oh well. I'm still looking forward to the sequel, since my odds of talking to Dr Phil and having him kick both our butts is pretty darned slim!