I'm sorry, I didn't realize that you didn't have any balls.

Ladies, don't let this shock you but MEN HAVE NO BALLS.

Ok, yes, they have those ball shaped things they like to sratch in public and play with a lot when they are at home watching TV they wouldn't tell their mama about, but when it comes down to it, they just don't know what to do with them.

They should be more than just toys.  They should make you a man.

Instead, lately every man I have met seems to just completly have no balls.

It is very frustrating being single.  We spend weekend after weekend, workday after workday going to the bars, getting set up on blind dates, meeting people from match.com (Remember this guy) , flirting until we are beyond exhaustion.  All I expect back from men is a little honesty. 

I know.

I should stop myself right there.

Honesty.

Really???

Ha.  That's a joke.

But hear me out, let me tell  you my side of the story.  I'm tired.  The rollercoaster of dating is thrilling: one minute you are riding up that first hill.....the anticipation of what is to come is exhilerating, your palms are sweaty, your heart is racing, you can feel the excitement building.  Then you go down that first hill screaming....."this is great, I love it, its going so well!"  It's the second hill that gets you every time.....it, like all men, has no balls.  It kills you.  You think its going to be alright, then....nothing.  No thrill.  No follow through.  Nothing.  No balls.  But wait.....the ride does not end after the second hill.  There are usually twists and turns and some mini ups and downs after that "no ball" second hill.  You stay on the roller coaster because, well you are strapped in and they say when you get on "Please keep your hands and feet inside the ride until it comes to a complete stop" so I think getting off in the middle is frowned upon.....but why do we stay on the dating roller coaster?  The answer is simple: we are waiting for the thrill of the first hill again.  We hang on, gripping the ride with all we have waiting to feel that excitment. 

What we really should be doing is jumping off mid-ride. 

Example A)  I met a handsome guy a couple months ago out at a bar.  We chatted, exchanged numbers, met up a couple of weeks later with some friends, hung out all night, went out on a one-on-one date a few days after that....this is all the first hill people.  Things (in my mind) were going perfectly.  I got home from the date and told my mom on a scale of 1-10 it was a 14.  He had texted me before I made it home and told me how great of a night it was and how we would do it again soon.  All promising signs, right?  Wrong.  Don't let this fool you.  It's two months later and I still have not seen him.  Don't get me wrong.....we have talked.  Multiple times.  It's always "How are you?  What are you up to?  We will have to get together soon!"  Really buddy???  Really!?!?!?!  I mean, you are wasting my time and yours by talking to me for 2 MONTHS and not going out with me.  If you didn't have a good time, or didn't want to see me again, GROW A PAIR and just be HONEST.  Don't text me, don't respond when I text you, just have some balls and tell me you don't want to see me....but don't keep me on your rollercoaster because you are afraid you will hurt me if you kick me off.  Guess what, I'm pretty tough, I can take it.  Why don't I get off of the ride on my own you ask?  Well, when I got on they strapped me in and told me I wasn't allowed off until it stopped.....so, ya, I'm gonna need you to kick me off.  I hate that I'm always a little optimistic for the thrill of the first hill, but until you grow a pair and tell me its not coming, I'm gonna stay on the ride.  I know, I'm at fault too.

Example B)  Blind dates.  I think we can all agree they are terrible.  However, if you ask me out for one, I'm gonna show up.  What I'm not going to do is e-mail you the day of a date that I scheduled and tell you that I will be at so and so place with my friends if you wanted to stop by.  A blind date it awkward enough, let alone if I am walking into a bar and meeting you and 10 of your friends who I also don't know.  Grow a pair buddy and meet me on your own.  I know, I'm awesome and that might be a bit intimidating, but really, get your shit together. 

I could go on...and on...and on and on and on, but I won't.  I will simply end with this.  Men need to stop playing with their balls and learn how to use them.

A ticket or a date

I came up with a new game today.  It's called A Ticket or a Date. 

Let me explain how I came up with this new fantastic idea.  I'm sick.  As in can't sleep because I'm coughing so badly, my eyes are pink and sick looking, my nose is runny and sore, and my skin is pale.  In other words, I look HOTT.  So, me and all my sexiness needed to stop at WalMart this morning to get some cold medicine.  I dragged my barely alive body out of the car and slowly walked through the rain into the store.  Yep, its raining....a lot.  Who doesn't love Ohio in the Spring?

Anyway, on my way in (while I'm coughing up my lungs) a super hott cop is staring at me from across the parking lot.  Our eyes meet....if I was feeling better it might have been one of those magical moments where I give my best flirtatious smile, but today, I just didn't have it in me.  He makes a comment about how I sound great, I giggle, we exchange a few words, I do a sneeze/cough/gag all in one move that I am sure was irresistible, he smiles and says he is sure he knows where in the store I'm heading (the pharmacy for those of you who are slow), I apologize for being pathetic, he laughs and says he will probably be doing the same thing in a few days because the weather is just getting everyone sick, we both exchange big smiles and go our separate ways. 

Now, I'm a firm believer that you should never go anywhere without attempting to look decent, you never know who you may run into.  This morning however, I did not care.  I was miserable.  I must have looked awful, but lo and behold a bright spot in my morning occurred and I got a smile from a hottie cop.  Ok, yes, this is very small, but as a single woman I will take what I can get.  When a single man gives you some attention (yep, I looked, no ring....this is also something we single women do) its glorious. 

So, where does my game fit in you might say?  Mmmwwwaaahhhhhhhhh (that was my evil laugh).  Well, I need a plan to try and run into the hottie cop when A) I am not sick and B) I look adorable as usual.  So, in order to make this happen I'm going to speed around town and try to get pulled over.  Then, when he pulls me over we can have a little moment, flirt a teeny bit, and I can ask "So officer McHottie, are you really going to give me a ticket, or would you like to offer to take me on a date instead?"  It's a completely fool proof plan! 

I will keep you updated on my progress, but really, I see no room for error.  This is just one of the things we single ladies do in order to find the hottie of our dreams.

Oh God, are you picturing me wearing that? This is awkward...

I have a secret to tell you.

Come closer.

No really, come super close, I have to whisper it.  (Mmmmmm, you smell good).

Oh, here is it, are you ready?  I HEART TARGET!!!!!

Whew, it felt good to get that off my chest.  I feel like I’m being healed as we speak.  The first step to improvement is admitting you have a problem, right?  Well, I have a Target problem.  I can’t go in there without spending over $100.  Ever.  It’s impossible.  Actually, I challenge you to try it.  I bet you don’t succeed.  You will go in for gum and end up grabbing a t-shirt, the new GaGa CD, 3 books, 4 bottles of wine (remember, we don’t judge on this site)---this is when you realize it’s going to be one of those trips and you run back to the front of the store to grab a cart---then you keep shopping and you end up with a few Market District items, a new trench coat, and blah blah blah the list goes on until you know you are about to spend your rent at Target.  I guarantee it will happen to you. 

So, what does Target have to do with dating one might ask?  Lots.

As a single woman, I have been to my share of showers, bachelorette parties, and all the gatherings that happen before a woman gets married.  (Ok, if you must know, I’ve had these gatherings myself.  Ugh, I’m divorced.  We will discuss that at another time.)  Anyway, at these parties I have witnessed my friends opening the entire spectrum of lingerie…from gorgeous to slutty.  Let’s face it, after the honeymoon week, you settle into married life and that shit gets thrown into the dark corner of your closet.  Then one day when you are knocked up and feeling saucy from the hormones you reach back into the dungeon and find something special to throw on for your hubby only to start crying when you put it on because A) Your boobs are now ginormous and while that’s a good thing they don’t fit into the tiny outfit and B) The dress like thing that was supposed to hang open and show off your once flat and toned abs now opens wide over your 8 months prego belly.  You look ridiculous and in a fit of rage (again, hormones people) you throw every piece of lingerie away knowing that those days are behind you.  Or maybe that only happens to my sister. 

Either way, lingerie is meant for the single ladies.  We need to get a piece, and are trying to look good while we do it.  So, that being said the shit gets expensive, and as much as I’m a Vickie’s fan I have found that Target has some cute things.  I learned my lesson though.  Do not go to the register with the teenage boy running checkout.  I went to Target a while ago, you know for gum, and when I was at the checkout counter things got weird.  I had roughly 80 things on the conveyor belt and I was texting and not paying attention…I mean, I have peeps to keep up with yo, I’m very popular.  Anywho, the kid was not paying attention either.  He was roughly 17 and wanted to be Justin Bieber.  You could just tell.  We went along me happily texting, and him staring down rockin to the awesome Target music…until…OMG, he picked up a thong.  There in front on him on the conveyor was a small pile of underwear (all thongs thank you very much) and an adorable little lingerie piece that I picked up.  This is how it all went down.

Target kid: (while holding black thong in the air) Whoa

He looks at me

He looks back at the thong as his face gets a little red

He looks at me again…this time stares me up and down, totally checking me out and smiling…his face gets even redder

TK: (looking back at thong) Whoa…uhhh, ya, uhhhhh, I didn’t know we sold this stuff.

Me: Oh ya, you totally do!

TK checked out the rest of my things while staring at the ground.  He could not look me in the eye.  Maybe it was because his face matched the color of his red shirt he was forced to wear.  It was awesome.  I was both flattered and felt completely bad for him.  I left and immediately called my mom because I burst out laughing.  Poor kid.  I should have given him one of the cases of beer I bought.

The lesson here is this:  we all want to look hot and feel saucy when we are about to…ya know…but remember this please, if you are going to buy your lingerie at Target go to a woman cashier. 

It was nice to meet you, sorry I puked in your sink

This story starts off so sweetly.  It kinda sucks that both the night and the entire "relationship" have an unfortunate ending.  This is the first introduction to My Army Boy.  For the rest of my life he will only be known as MAB.  He will come up more than once as things lasted for quite some time with him.  Any person who has been in your life for longer than 24 hours carries a story.  Here is where ours began.....

It was a blind date.  My first.  I would have a couple of firsts that night.  We were set up by a mutual friend-ish person.  I barely knew her, but she thought I was adorable (can you blame her?), and he was someone that if she were only 15 years younger and unmarried I am sure she would have jumped at the chance to date MAB.  Once I laid eyes on him, I knew why.  He was tall, built like a football player, and had blue eyes that made me melt.  To put it lightly, I was hooked after one look.  We had decided to meet for a drink, you know, to make it casual and not to have to commit to dinner or anything that might last too long if it sucked.  Although this memory is from years ago it seems like only yesterday.  Haven't you ever had that date where you can remember everything?  The clothes you had on, the smell of the man, every detail of the conversation.  This was that date for me.  I know I can be a sap at times, but I'm a chick so cut me some slack....sometimes I still close my eyes and run through this date.  It was that good (until I was forced to leave....but I'll get to that moment in a bit).  There was a point in the night where MAB got up to go to the bathroom, walked over to my side of the booth, kissed me on the lips softly, just perfectly, and whispered, "I figured we would just get that out of the way right now so it's not awkward later."  He then gave me his perfect little boy grin, turned around, and walked to the bathroom.  I must have sat there glowing. 

A women, who had been at the table next to us, got up and walked over to me and said word for word, "I hate to interrupt, but you and your boyfriend are just two of the cutest people I have ever seen.  It's so refreshing to see young people so happy together."  I looked at her and smiled my biggest smile and said, "Thank you, but this is our first date.  We just met about an hour ago.  Do you think he likes me?"  The shock in her eyes gave me the answer I needed.  The way he held my hand when he got back affirmed what I thought.  It was perfect.

After 4 hours (yep, you read that right, we spent 4 hours at the bar), we decided it was time we should go.  We walked out to the parking lot and on the curb started kissing.  Call it the beers, call it the warm spring night, call it the fact that I hadn't been on a date in a while (another story for another time) but yes, I was making out in a parking lot with someone I just met.  Another first.  He asked if I wanted to come over for a while.  Without hesitation I agreed.  Another first.  I am now thinking to myself self...you are about to be that girl...you don't know this kid and you are going to follow him to his house...oh, but he smells so good, and it has been ssooooo long...what's it gonna hurt?  So I went.  (Sorry mom)

Now, I know what you are thinking.  TRAMP!  But, in my defense, MAB is way hot.  Maybe nothing was going to happen (lie), maybe we were just going to watch a movie or play scrabble (lie).  Don't judge me; you know you have been there. 

Anywho, after a glorious evening (No, I'm not going into the saucy details.  What do you think this is, the screenplay for a porn?  You dirty little readers!!  This is not that kind of site!).....so, after a glorious evening we went to sleep.  Yep, I stayed.  Say what you want about me, but I was not about to leave.  He was fantastic and ok, I wasn't sure if I was ever going to hear from him again, but I was determined to make this night last as long as possible.  If I was going to have my first and only one night stand (and be broken hearted from it because y'all I was already smitten) I was going to stay the whole night.  Screw the walk of shame home in the morning; I was going to be ashamed of nothing.  We were going to wake up in the morning, have fantastic "I don't regret this at all and to prove it lets do it right now" morning sex, then we were going to make pancakes and sit and eat them in bed while we planned our next date.  I'm such an optimist. 

I woke up sometime around 5am feeling like I was dying.  Literally.  Something was not right.  I sat up and tried to walk to the bathroom thinking maybe I had to poop.  I know, I said poop, but everyone does it people, there is even a book about it.  You can buy it here.  Anyway, I thought maybe that was it, but on my way to the bathroom I realized that I could not stand up straight.  Something hurt so badly that I thought my insides were being ripped or stabbed or something equally as brutal.  I decided I needed to go.  I quietly put my clothes on (shhh, I know, they shouldn't have been off to begin with, but they were.  No judging allowed on this site) and I kissed MAB on the lips and whispered that I needed to go home so that I could get ready for work.  He mumbled some nonsense back and I gimped my way out of the bedroom like the hunchback of Notre Dame. 

I made it as far as the kitchen before I collapsed.  I could barely breathe.  I only prayed he hadn't heard me fall.  Then I felt it.  It was rising in my body.  I felt it coming so fast that I barely made it to the standing position let alone to the sink.  I threw my head into the cold stainless steel and felt my stomach wretch until everything inside me was in the sink.....down the drain.  As I was throwing up all that I had in my body I thought to myself this is the punishment you deserve for trying to have some fun.  You had the perfect date but you let it carry on too far and now you are being tortured.  This is what girls who go home with boys they just meet deserve.  Then I heard MAB coming my way.  I quickly turned on the faucet, washed my sickness down the drain, splashed my face, and cupped my hands like I was drinking from the sink.  When he asked what I was doing I politely replied "I was thirsty and I didn't want to go through the cupboards looking for a glass."  I smiled my sweet smile though the pain was still searing through my body and hoped he bought it.  He must have because he came over, hugged me, told me I was a dork (sounds funny, but came to be quite endearing over the next few years), and asked if I needed anything else.  Knowing that my body could not hold me up much longer I said that I was good and needed to get on my way.  I left.  I left not knowing if I would ever see him again.  This is a feeling with MAB that I became quite used to...

Hours later still vomiting and unable to stand I kept thinking what a torturous punishment I was being dealt for casual sex.  After checking myself into the ER, turns out it was much more serious.  I came out a couple days later, healed and with a voice mail from MAB.  We went to the movies that week.

A couple years later I asked if he knew I puked in his sink.  He said he never saw me do it, but would have asked me out again anyway.  Moral of the story is...no, I do not reccomend going home with someone you just meet.  This was the first and only time I have ever done this.  Sometimes you just know that it will be something good.  Other times you just need a good lay.  Either way, every now and then you can puke in a guys sink and he still might give you a call. 

I Heart Guacamole

If you continue to read this blog, you will quickly figure out how much I love match.com.  As in about as much as I love going to the gyno.  You think maybe this time it will be different, maybe it won't be as painful and awfully awkward.  Yet every time that speculum is shoved up your lady parts you moan and think to yourself "self, this is just like last time!"  This is how dates set up from match.com go.  (When they happen at all, but that's another post in itself.)

So, where was I?  Oh yes, my affinity for guacamole.  I had been chatting up a seemingly fine also 30-something gentleman on match.com.  Seeing as how I don't give names out, he shall hence forth be referred to as Fatty Avocado, or FA for short.  So, FA and I e-mailed back and forth (so high tech, I know I'm fancy) for a couple weeks then exchanged digits.  This is how it goes in the world of internet dating.  We chatted on the phone for the first time and it was great.  Now, I am going to toot my own horn here for a minute, but I can talk to just about anyone so maybe the conversation was great because I'm freakin fantastic, but it appeared to be going well.  We set up a meeting!  There is this wonderful place that is known for its guacamole and since we had talked about my love for it (yes, somehow that does come up in conversation) we decided to meet there and get a sampler and drinks later in the week.  Woo hoo! A date!!!

A few days later I showed up looking cute as ever (I'm adorable, deal with it) and pumped to try some good guac we met outside and headed to the bar.  I ordered a beer because I'm not one of those froo froo girls and we ordered our sampler.  Now, I must emphasize here some stats about myself that are hard for every woman.  I'm not stick thin, and I don't belong in a Calvin Klein ad.  I'm am on the smaller size of the height spectrum, but I'm roughly 130lbs (at the time).  I am a size 6, I have some curves but I like them.  I'm a woman, so of course, I always think I could lose a few, but I don't think anyone would call me fat.....or so I thought......

After some casual conversation (I'm basically holding the bar here people, FA is giving me nothing to work with), we end up talking about the guac.  Yes, talking about our sampler.  Clearly we were entertained with each other.  Anyway, our conversation goes like this:

FA:  Do you know how many calories are in guacamole?

Me:  Nope, not really, I guess I never really thought about it, I just love it.

FA:  Well, its a lot.  I just think maybe it wasn't the best choice of things we could have gotten.

Me:  What do you mean? (grabs chip and scoops big heaping spoonful and shoves in mouth....daintily of course)

FA:  I mean, do you really think you need the extra calories?

Me:  Hmmmmm, YEP!  (shoves another bite in mouth and excuses self to bathroom)

I sat in the bathroom for a while thinking wait, did he just call me fat...no, he had to have meant something else...no one would tell a girl she was fat let alone ON A FIRST DATE...isn't this when we are supposed to be making a good first impression, what else could he have meant...did I leave my beer out there...shoot, what if he is putting a roofie in it, no that can't be right because if he wanted to sleep with me HE WOULDN'T HAVE CALLED ME FAT...yep he definitely called me fat...oh God I'm going to be alone forever, I hate dating...I want another beer, oh and some more guacamole, crap and now that I'm thinking about guacamole I want Chipotle, mmmmmmm I love their bowls, sometimes they make my stomach hurt though when I eat too much, it's kind of like when I take my medicine on an empty stomach...shoot did I take my medicine this morning what if he wants to sleep with me and I forgot to take my BC, oh wait that's right he doesn't want to sleep with me because HE THINKS I'M FAT...that a-hole, he has some nerve.  It's clear my stream of consciousness was awesome that night. 

I should mention here that I never went back.  I sat in the bathroom until I was sure he got the hint that I was in fact not returning then went to the bar, grabbed another drink with the fabulous gay bartender who was like "Girl, that was the worst date ever!"  I got the name of the place he got his amazing glasses from and headed home....to eat a real dinner.  I needed more than just guacamole.  I actually think I may have drank my dinner that night, food is overrated after a bad date, champagne however is your friend.

Drug Dealers and Pimps May Now Apply

There are those people who are part of your life whom even though you love them dearly (and vice versa) they sometimes make it difficult.  Case in point, a conversation with my family a short time ago.

Uncle B: So, you're not dating anyone?

Me:  Nope, not right now.  I actually had a really good date the other night, but, well, ya know, we'll see.

Mama:  You have been out with a lot of people in the last couple years, don't you think any of them were marriage material? 

(silent eye roll to cousin)

Me:  Nope.  Just haven't found anyone yet.  You know, its not easy.

Uncle B:  Well, what about this guy (example A given).  I have heard great things about him, what's wrong with him?!?!?!?  (I use a lot of punctuation because Uncle B gets very animated!)

Me: He is a wonderful man, just not for me.

Mama:  Don't you think that by this time, maybe you just need to lower your standards a little bit?  I mean, you girls are in your 30's.  Maybe if you were looking for a list of 10 things, you should be happy with getting 4 or 5. 

(Me and cousin after years of this treatment are getting better, but we look at each other and have a How I Met Your Mother silent conversation where we tell one another we can take 5 minutes of then, then we are out the door)

Uncle B:  Right, maybe you are just asking for too much.

Cousin:  Wow, you MUST be right!  That is the problem!  I should NOT be looking for someone with a job, and a good heart, and maybe some financial stability!  How silly of me!!!!!

Me:  Agreed, we are just really being too picky!  Forget wanting someone who loves me and will stand by my side, someone who will support me and who I'm attracted to.  I should just take anyone, because you know, I am in my 30's and almost all of my eggs are gone by now.  It's a proven fact that by the time a women turns 30 90% of her eggs are gone!

Mama:  Girls, all we are trying to say is that maybe you are setting the bar too high, you just need to not expect so much.

Me:  Again, you are so right, because clearly you settled so I should too.  (If you knew me, you would know this is TOTALLY an ironic statement because my Daddy is the best man ever).

Cousin:  Let's leave now, we have plans later, but before that we need to go find some drug dealers to marry.  Maybe if we get lucky they will be pimps too and our lives will be set.

Me:  Perfect!  Hey fam, see ya later at Grandma's funeral....maybe if you are lucky cousin and I will bring dates with us!  It will be grand!



Have you ever had a conversation with you family that left you feeling like wanting to find someone was an impossible task because you were just wanting too much?  Who knew that wanting to feel loved was too much to ask for?  Because I am me, I'm thinking of hiring an actor to play my bf at the next family gathering.  I am going to pay him to be a complete degenerate but I am going to pretend to be totally in love.  You know, because after all it's about time I settle.

High School Musical

Oh to be 16 and in love.  After all, everyone ends up marrying their High School sweetheart right???  (Shit wait, thats just my parents, and my aunt and uncle, oh and my other aunt and uncle, crap, and my grandparents)!!!  I was head Cheerleader (thank you very much, I know, you're jealous!) and he was the star soccer player.  It was a match made in High Shool Heaven.  If Finn played soccer rather than football we would basically be the stars of Glee because y'all Quinn has nothin on me (except maybe a pre-marital pregnancy, naughty little cheerleader!). 

Anywho, we were both early in our High School years when we met and fell in teenage love.  We of course met by the lockers and like so totally made out!  I cheered at all his games and wore his letter jacket everywhere because I needed everyone to know he was mine.  As if the hand holding and obnoxious googly eyes every time we were together didn't give that away.  We dated for 2 years.  2 wonderful, long, amazing, hard, perfect teenage years.  Do you know what happens in teenage relationships???  Embarrassment.  You start to learn things about your body, and yourself, and if you are a naughty little cheerleader (sorry mom) you might do things that later you wish you hadn't.  Crap, maybe Quinn and I aren't all that different....except she got to sleep with Puck.....yyuuuuuummmmm.....wait, I'm getting off topic.  I was going to give you some embarrassing teenage moments.  Topping the list: duh duh duh duuuh (that was my trumpet sound)--having your boyfriends dad sit you down as a couple to give you the sex talk.  That's right, TOGETHER!!!!!  Like getting it from your own parents would not have been bad enough, you had to be sat down with your bf in the sun room while his mom made dinner so that you could listen to the dangers of not having safe sex.  Awesome.  Are you jealous you missed it?  I left after and threw up.  Maybe it was the morning sickness.  jk  Second lesson learned from the lovely teenage relationship: don't do it in a church parking lot.  The cops will catch you and you won't have time to put your shirt back on the right way before they shine the light in the car.  You'll be embarrassed and look like a tramp.  You have now been warned.

To sum it up, teenage relationships will not last (unless apparantly you are related to me), so be careful what you do.  This will be the first of many times you will fall in love and get a piece of your heart shattered.  Oh, and be careful when you are doing it in the backseat of a parked car--- you don't want to shatter the rear view mirror with your heel, its expensive to replace even though it gets repaired faster than the broken heart.