I'm in my 30's. I'm dating. My dream is to settle down and come home to the same person every night and have crazy, wild, passionate sex. I will not deny that I am a sexual person, that would be like Angelina Jolie denying she is a little bit crazy (I mean she used to wear Billy Bob Thorton's blood around her neck! Creepy!) Anyway, that is what I want, therefore that is what I am searching for.
Now, the men I have been dating as of late are all a little bit older than me and divorced. I am not judging as I myself had a failed marriage. I just feel as though women and men think differently after a divorce. I wanted to be with someone, I wanted the comfort of holding someone. Before I had even signed papers I was involved with MAB. For the time, he gave me what I needed. Yes, I ended up getting my heart broke more than it had ever been, but I was ready for him and I gave in. I get the feeling from one of the men I have gone out with recently that he is not looking to be with someone but instead wanting to "sew some wild oats." He was married for what I consider a lengthy time and has some kids to show for it. I believe this man feels as though he was held back in his previous relationship and he now wants to make up for it by getting a little bit crazy. He has made a "bucket list" if you will of things he would like to do now that he is free. I don't want to be on that list. I don't want to be something he "does" now that he can. I don't want to be an oat.
The question is this: How do I know if I am becoming an oat?
There is no question that I doubt almost everything when it comes to relationships. A) I'm female and we over analyze and B) I have been hurt, so I am always thinking that I am being lied to or that people have an ulterior motive. It's not fair, I know that. I try very hard to start each new relationship forgetting how damaged my little heart is (little because I'm small, not because there is not any love it in.....just wanted to clarify). I try to give everyone the benefit of the doubt and assume that they are sincere and not just wanting to....well, for lack of a nicer way to put it.....bang me. Hiding my sexual side from dates is something I cannot do. I don't lie about who I am, and while I try to hold back, sometimes I can't help but ooze sex. I am pretty sure it's because I'm not getting any, but it is always on my mind. My fear then becomes when those I'm dating see that I am flirty, sexual, and fun they will take advantage of that and make me an oat. They might forget that I am also the girl who likes to be giggly and play and be serious and sweet. Men hear sex and it's all that is on their mind. They forget there is more to me.....or at least I think some of them might. When things are going well and I am hearing all the things a girl loves to hear, I assume I am being fed lines. I mean, this is what history has told me. I believe someone until I think they are legit, I give in to my naughty mind, then we never speak again. It's a super awesome plan that is the opposite of fool proof =)
With this particular person things are going well. Yes, there might be someone else who takes up my thoughts constantly and who I am also trying to ride the waves of uncertainty with, but this guy (who in case there are future stories I shall name him RRC) is the one who scares me. He is almost too nice. He tries too hard. He does everything right. I still feel like his oat.
It is at this point I have two paths I can take. I can ignore my gut instincts and carry on with dating him to see where it goes. I can let him prove me wrong. Or, I can follow my intuition, cut him off, and only try to date the man with whom I have a little more history and background on. It is so confusing!!!
I made a joke the other day to some of my friends that my dating life has become like a bad joke. A cop, a DEA Agent, and a Canadian walk into a bar.....who gets the girl?
Stay tuned to see what decisions I make and who wins out. Who knows, maybe it will be none of the above and come next summer/fall I will have found a traveler who carries my heart away ;-)
No matter what happens, I refuse to be an oat.
Tuesday, December 6, 2011
Wednesday, November 30, 2011
Shamless Self Promotion
For anyone who wants to follow me on Facebook or Twitter, please do so and reccomend your friends do the same! Thanks!!!
Twitter: @DatingNTheBurbs
Facebook:
Twitter: @DatingNTheBurbs
Facebook:
Wednesday, November 23, 2011
Some weekends make you ask WTF???
This past weekend got nuts. What started as a nice Friday night with my favorite vampire (hello Breaking Dawn Part 1!) ended with me looking at my friend and asking "How did this weekend happen?"
I had a date-ish planned for Saturday night. Yes, I meant to say "ish." I was not really counting it because my counterpart was from far away.....isn't there a rule about if you are in a different zip code it doesn't count? Oh, wait, maybe that is just for sex and cheating? I'm not really sure. Either way, I wasn't counting it as a full fledged date. We met, we drank, we fooled around, we drank, we danced, we snuggled, we slept. 12 hours of bliss. His yummy accent only made it that much better. We said our good morning's and planned to meet later in the day to hang out before he went far away again.
I quickly drove home, reluctantly washed his delicious smell off me (TMI.....sorry.....shit, no, I'm not sorry, I like the way boys smell and I'm not ashamed of that), and I got dressed for some football! After I grabbed a friend we headed to a bar for some pre-gaming. In case you are not a football fan, this usually includes rowdy drunk people at 10am. It's great. While at the bar some fellows started talking to myself and my friend. Now, I hesitate to say they were flirting because I am a TERRIBLE judge at that since I just assume everyone is ultra nice and just being conversational, but an outsider might say that we were getting hit on. Oh wait, an outsider actually did assume we were being hit on....he actually assumed one of the men was my boyfriend and backed away sheepishly when he got yelled at for trying to steal me away. I almost started a bar fight y'all! Once I informed the 2nd gentleman that the 1st was not in fact my boyfriend but just some guy who I had literally just met who was buying me drinks he decided he would fight the fight and try to steal me. He won. We ended up talking, laughing, drinking a little, then enjoying some football together. After giving him my digits, I had to leave him stranded because I was supposed to meet my date from the night before to watch some more football. Yes people, this actually happened to me. I had to make up an excuse to leave one hottie to go hang out with another hottie! REALLY? When am I EVER this popular!?!?!?! While watching the game with my date from Saturday, I received some texts from the new guy. I mean, my pheromones must have been on fire this Sunday, everyone wanted me!
When the game was over I very sadly said goodbye to my hottie with an accent. Ugh. Good-bye's SUCK. As I was sulking from my good-bye while at the same time reliving the excitement of being a hot commodity among the men of the day, I saw someone I did not want to see. You might remember the guy who prompted me to write this post about men having no balls. He was example A, and as it turns out was not getting together with me all those months because HE HAD A FUCKING GIRLFRIEND! Yep, that's right. Again, I'm attractive to those who are taken. Mind you, his GF status did not stop him from texting me all the time, telling me he wanted me, and saying he wished he was single. So, as I'm walking around I see him....with his GF. Awesome. I send him a texty text (How I Met Your Mother reference) and said something that made it known I could see him. He replied in a panicked "Oh shit, where are you?" After a couple messages he asked me to rescue him. I replied with a sassy "I didn't know you were being held hostage.....grow a pair and rescue yourself." I mean really, I can't help you get out of a situation you do not want to be in, you have to be man enough to get out yourself. Besides, I want a real man, someone who isn't afraid to go after what they want. This guy is clearly still a boy....either he is lying to me about wanting to be with me because he thinks he can keep me hanging on, or he is lying to his longtime GF about wanting to be with her. He can't have both. I made it easy, I let go.
This weekend while unexpected was amazing. I remembered something that I have actually always known. Confidence is sexy. I have been lacking some confidence lately. You get knocked down enough in this crazy world of dating that you forget just how awesome you are as an individual. You let it get to you, you let it affect everything about you, you forget to be you. This weekend, I remembered. I am sure nothing will come of any of the relationships I worked on this weekend, but I don't care. It doesn't matter because in the time span of 36 hours I remembered who I am, why I'm awesome, and why some man is going to be very lucky to have me some day. After all, who wouldn't want a chick who loves to be naughty when appropriate but is still someone you can count on to always offer a smile to help you get by.
Lesson learned this week: I'm a hell of a catch.
I had a date-ish planned for Saturday night. Yes, I meant to say "ish." I was not really counting it because my counterpart was from far away.....isn't there a rule about if you are in a different zip code it doesn't count? Oh, wait, maybe that is just for sex and cheating? I'm not really sure. Either way, I wasn't counting it as a full fledged date. We met, we drank, we fooled around, we drank, we danced, we snuggled, we slept. 12 hours of bliss. His yummy accent only made it that much better. We said our good morning's and planned to meet later in the day to hang out before he went far away again.
I quickly drove home, reluctantly washed his delicious smell off me (TMI.....sorry.....shit, no, I'm not sorry, I like the way boys smell and I'm not ashamed of that), and I got dressed for some football! After I grabbed a friend we headed to a bar for some pre-gaming. In case you are not a football fan, this usually includes rowdy drunk people at 10am. It's great. While at the bar some fellows started talking to myself and my friend. Now, I hesitate to say they were flirting because I am a TERRIBLE judge at that since I just assume everyone is ultra nice and just being conversational, but an outsider might say that we were getting hit on. Oh wait, an outsider actually did assume we were being hit on....he actually assumed one of the men was my boyfriend and backed away sheepishly when he got yelled at for trying to steal me away. I almost started a bar fight y'all! Once I informed the 2nd gentleman that the 1st was not in fact my boyfriend but just some guy who I had literally just met who was buying me drinks he decided he would fight the fight and try to steal me. He won. We ended up talking, laughing, drinking a little, then enjoying some football together. After giving him my digits, I had to leave him stranded because I was supposed to meet my date from the night before to watch some more football. Yes people, this actually happened to me. I had to make up an excuse to leave one hottie to go hang out with another hottie! REALLY? When am I EVER this popular!?!?!?! While watching the game with my date from Saturday, I received some texts from the new guy. I mean, my pheromones must have been on fire this Sunday, everyone wanted me!
When the game was over I very sadly said goodbye to my hottie with an accent. Ugh. Good-bye's SUCK. As I was sulking from my good-bye while at the same time reliving the excitement of being a hot commodity among the men of the day, I saw someone I did not want to see. You might remember the guy who prompted me to write this post about men having no balls. He was example A, and as it turns out was not getting together with me all those months because HE HAD A FUCKING GIRLFRIEND! Yep, that's right. Again, I'm attractive to those who are taken. Mind you, his GF status did not stop him from texting me all the time, telling me he wanted me, and saying he wished he was single. So, as I'm walking around I see him....with his GF. Awesome. I send him a texty text (How I Met Your Mother reference) and said something that made it known I could see him. He replied in a panicked "Oh shit, where are you?" After a couple messages he asked me to rescue him. I replied with a sassy "I didn't know you were being held hostage.....grow a pair and rescue yourself." I mean really, I can't help you get out of a situation you do not want to be in, you have to be man enough to get out yourself. Besides, I want a real man, someone who isn't afraid to go after what they want. This guy is clearly still a boy....either he is lying to me about wanting to be with me because he thinks he can keep me hanging on, or he is lying to his longtime GF about wanting to be with her. He can't have both. I made it easy, I let go.
This weekend while unexpected was amazing. I remembered something that I have actually always known. Confidence is sexy. I have been lacking some confidence lately. You get knocked down enough in this crazy world of dating that you forget just how awesome you are as an individual. You let it get to you, you let it affect everything about you, you forget to be you. This weekend, I remembered. I am sure nothing will come of any of the relationships I worked on this weekend, but I don't care. It doesn't matter because in the time span of 36 hours I remembered who I am, why I'm awesome, and why some man is going to be very lucky to have me some day. After all, who wouldn't want a chick who loves to be naughty when appropriate but is still someone you can count on to always offer a smile to help you get by.
Lesson learned this week: I'm a hell of a catch.
Tuesday, November 1, 2011
Halloween is the Superbowl for Drinking
I love Happy Endings (and not just the TV show hehe). I mean for reals y'all, that show is amazeballs.
This past week there was one line in the show that really stood out to me. I didn't necessarily notice it at the time, but after my Halloween night out came and went (with a couple minor falls, some harmless face to face flirting, and an expensive international texting phone bill) I remembered what was said on Happy Endings "Halloween is the Superbowl for drinking." My Saturday night proved that statement to be true.
Now, don't get me wrong, I have been known to get a little crazy from time to time (I have pictures in a blue inner tube while walking around town to prove it), but in general I keep my drinking very controlled. I get to my happy place and stay there. I like the happy place. Three drinks in and I'm louder than normal (shocking), slightly more touchy (again, shocking since I'm super touchy to begin with), and I'm super fun (this is an obvious statement). Saturday night I was in my happy place. I can't say the same for the people at the other end of my texting line.....they seemed to be beyond a happy place. It was awesome. I heard from a multitude of men whom I have either gone out with once, a couple times, or even had some sort of dating relationship with. I will not say how I replied to these messages, but I will show you a couple examples.
Man 1: I bet you look super sexy tonight. Damn it, the nasty things we could be doing together. Ugh.
Man 2: Where do you want me to cum? (Mind you, I did not use cum in my initial text.....I used come....there is a difference)
Man 3: Can I borrow your body later?
Man 4: I wish I had pics of you. Luckily I have a photographic memory. You are hot/sexy/and have a great smile. How are you single? I don't know.
Yes, this actually happened. My question is how? I mean, four different people.....mind you only one of whom I have actually gotten naughty with. Do I blame it on the a a a a a alcohol? (I hope everyone rocked out like Jamie Foxx when they read that!) I woke up Sunday and at some point went through my messages from the night before just to see if I remembered correctly the things I thought I had read. YUP! I did. Getting messages from so many different people who at some point through the night told me how awesome and sexy I am was a great feeling; however, it made me think that it must just be the drinking.
Now, here is the part where you say "Girl, damn, you have restraint!" I'm a horny girl. We all know this. Being single and horny is SUPER FUCKING HARD because you don't get to benefit from being horny. I'm basically in my sexual prime and the only people benefiting are the people who make batteries. I go through Double A's like most people do a gallon of milk. It's rough, but thank God for vibrators. Saturday I was propositioned from all over the place and I restrained. (Pat on the back for me thank you very much). I'm waiting for one of the four (or even someone new) to prove that he is worthy of my awesome/sexiness. Until then, I have my B.O.B. (Battery Operated Boyfriend), an unlimited supply of Double A's, and some fun texts about what people would do to me if given the chance. I have an imagination, I can picture it happening. I just look forward to the next night where I am everyone's object of affection so I can get some new material to read off my phone. Until then, I will leave you with this.......
Man 4: Maybe we can enjoy each other's nakedness? =)
This past week there was one line in the show that really stood out to me. I didn't necessarily notice it at the time, but after my Halloween night out came and went (with a couple minor falls, some harmless face to face flirting, and an expensive international texting phone bill) I remembered what was said on Happy Endings "Halloween is the Superbowl for drinking." My Saturday night proved that statement to be true.
Now, don't get me wrong, I have been known to get a little crazy from time to time (I have pictures in a blue inner tube while walking around town to prove it), but in general I keep my drinking very controlled. I get to my happy place and stay there. I like the happy place. Three drinks in and I'm louder than normal (shocking), slightly more touchy (again, shocking since I'm super touchy to begin with), and I'm super fun (this is an obvious statement). Saturday night I was in my happy place. I can't say the same for the people at the other end of my texting line.....they seemed to be beyond a happy place. It was awesome. I heard from a multitude of men whom I have either gone out with once, a couple times, or even had some sort of dating relationship with. I will not say how I replied to these messages, but I will show you a couple examples.
Man 1: I bet you look super sexy tonight. Damn it, the nasty things we could be doing together. Ugh.
Man 2: Where do you want me to cum? (Mind you, I did not use cum in my initial text.....I used come....there is a difference)
Man 3: Can I borrow your body later?
Man 4: I wish I had pics of you. Luckily I have a photographic memory. You are hot/sexy/and have a great smile. How are you single? I don't know.
Yes, this actually happened. My question is how? I mean, four different people.....mind you only one of whom I have actually gotten naughty with. Do I blame it on the a a a a a alcohol? (I hope everyone rocked out like Jamie Foxx when they read that!) I woke up Sunday and at some point went through my messages from the night before just to see if I remembered correctly the things I thought I had read. YUP! I did. Getting messages from so many different people who at some point through the night told me how awesome and sexy I am was a great feeling; however, it made me think that it must just be the drinking.
Now, here is the part where you say "Girl, damn, you have restraint!" I'm a horny girl. We all know this. Being single and horny is SUPER FUCKING HARD because you don't get to benefit from being horny. I'm basically in my sexual prime and the only people benefiting are the people who make batteries. I go through Double A's like most people do a gallon of milk. It's rough, but thank God for vibrators. Saturday I was propositioned from all over the place and I restrained. (Pat on the back for me thank you very much). I'm waiting for one of the four (or even someone new) to prove that he is worthy of my awesome/sexiness. Until then, I have my B.O.B. (Battery Operated Boyfriend), an unlimited supply of Double A's, and some fun texts about what people would do to me if given the chance. I have an imagination, I can picture it happening. I just look forward to the next night where I am everyone's object of affection so I can get some new material to read off my phone. Until then, I will leave you with this.......
Man 4: Maybe we can enjoy each other's nakedness? =)
Wednesday, October 5, 2011
Blowjobs for Brackets
I'm not married. But I know how it works. You need the garbage taken out and you don't want to do it.....you bargain. Honey, I will give you a nice bj if you will just take out the trash. I've heard this is a fool proof plan. Want the dishes done? Blow job. Shit needs done around the house? Blow job. Men are simple; offer them sexual favors and you can get what you want.
I'm single. I take out my own trash, do my own dishes, and pretend to fix my own shit when it breaks. I can basically do it all. I'm super intimidating, and thanks to my battery operated "boyfriend" a lot of days I can get by all on my own. I might talk to myself at night when I'm lonely and fake conversations with a non-existent lover, but that's besides the point. I'm self sufficient. Until it comes time to fill out a sports bracket. Now, I am a chick that loves sports. Throw me in front of a football game any day and I'm happy. Baseball: I mean come on, its the all American sport! Hockey: Hell yes, they can fight! Soccer: Those guys are dreamy. Basketball: I'm dumb. I don't know why, but I just don't enjoy it as much as the others. I try, and I cheer, and I get into it come playoff season, but all in all it's not my favorite.
Last year at work we had a bracket going and I wanted to enter. I am one of a few females in my workplace so I really wanted to do well since I'm super competitive. The problem was I had NO idea how to figure it out. That shit is confusing! So I solicited help from this guy I was....ummmmm......not dating. I'll call him "The Gambler". We had been not dating for a while, much to my dismay. He was an asshole. I unfortunately figured this out much too late in the game. I know, I know, you're thinking in your head "What, she dated an ass??? Impossible!! She has such great luck!!!" Anyway, I needed some assistance with my bracket and The Gambler not only had a thing for sports betting (can I pick the winners ladies???) but he also happened to be a basketball aficionado. What did I do? I sent this text "Blowjob for bracket help? Stop by tonight, I need help and I'm willing to make it worth your time." Now I know what you might be saying...whore! But I promise you, I'm not. I mean, married peeps do it all the time! I needed something that I thought only a guy could help me with so I was willing to do what I needed to get the help. It was really a win win situation. For a few moments spent on my knees I would get bragging rights at work. Totally worth it.
Lesson learned here: Married people are not the only ones who can solicit sexual favors to get what they want. Men are simple.....with the offer of a bj on the table anything is possible. Know your powers ladies, and use them accordingly. I may not have won the bracket, but the effort put in was well worth it.
P.S. I am kinda bummed it looks like there is no basketball this year, hehe. While The Gambler might be long gone, the idea is still phenominal.
I'm single. I take out my own trash, do my own dishes, and pretend to fix my own shit when it breaks. I can basically do it all. I'm super intimidating, and thanks to my battery operated "boyfriend" a lot of days I can get by all on my own. I might talk to myself at night when I'm lonely and fake conversations with a non-existent lover, but that's besides the point. I'm self sufficient. Until it comes time to fill out a sports bracket. Now, I am a chick that loves sports. Throw me in front of a football game any day and I'm happy. Baseball: I mean come on, its the all American sport! Hockey: Hell yes, they can fight! Soccer: Those guys are dreamy. Basketball: I'm dumb. I don't know why, but I just don't enjoy it as much as the others. I try, and I cheer, and I get into it come playoff season, but all in all it's not my favorite.
Last year at work we had a bracket going and I wanted to enter. I am one of a few females in my workplace so I really wanted to do well since I'm super competitive. The problem was I had NO idea how to figure it out. That shit is confusing! So I solicited help from this guy I was....ummmmm......not dating. I'll call him "The Gambler". We had been not dating for a while, much to my dismay. He was an asshole. I unfortunately figured this out much too late in the game. I know, I know, you're thinking in your head "What, she dated an ass??? Impossible!! She has such great luck!!!" Anyway, I needed some assistance with my bracket and The Gambler not only had a thing for sports betting (can I pick the winners ladies???) but he also happened to be a basketball aficionado. What did I do? I sent this text "Blowjob for bracket help? Stop by tonight, I need help and I'm willing to make it worth your time." Now I know what you might be saying...whore! But I promise you, I'm not. I mean, married peeps do it all the time! I needed something that I thought only a guy could help me with so I was willing to do what I needed to get the help. It was really a win win situation. For a few moments spent on my knees I would get bragging rights at work. Totally worth it.
Lesson learned here: Married people are not the only ones who can solicit sexual favors to get what they want. Men are simple.....with the offer of a bj on the table anything is possible. Know your powers ladies, and use them accordingly. I may not have won the bracket, but the effort put in was well worth it.
P.S. I am kinda bummed it looks like there is no basketball this year, hehe. While The Gambler might be long gone, the idea is still phenominal.
Friday, September 30, 2011
Ghostbusters
It's almost Halloween and I'm being haunted.
Have you ever seen "Ghosts of Girlfriends Past?" Probably not. Despite having Jennifer Garner and Matthew McConaugh-Hey it was not great.....which is weird for me to say because I love cliche chick flicks. I do heart me some Emma Stone and she was great in this, but still, not a great movie. Do I own it anyway? Yes yes I do! Wait, I'm getting off topic. Sorry, adult ADD stepping in. Or maybe it's just that its Friday and I feel like I need an adult beverage.....shit, no, story telling first. Right. Halloween, ghost, scary. Ok, I'm on it now.
So, right, I'm being haunted. Kind of like in the above mentioned flick my ghosts are of my dating past. Men have almost a 6th sense as to when a women might be getting over them and then they swoop back in. It's weird and not fair. Here I am living my charmed little life in suburban Ohio, pretending I am richer than I am, drinking more than I should, and all around just being awesome when the worst ghost imaginable sends me a message and I freeze. After everything how does MAB still affect me?
I'm pretending this is the last time; that I'm done reacting. You have read how our story started (who doesn't love a girl who pukes), you know a little of the history (yummy ice cream), and while there will be more stories of our time together, I am telling you the end right now. I stopped it. I put an end to it. Months after him saying "I'm sorry, I just don't love you" to me on one of the worst days of my life he decided to e-mail me and ask me to call. He kept me on the phone for 4 hours saying he had been thinking about me. He told me to visit. Then when circumstances prevented that, he told me it was probably for the best, that we didn't need to open that can of worms again. Ummmmmmm, YUP, no worms here! (Ewww, I just got an image of anal worms....I don't know why, but gross). So I'm calling this the end. Do I mean it? Who knows? We all know I'm too nice to not answer when someone calls me, but I'm going to try.
Here is what I'm thinking: remember that episode of Friends where they have a seance boyfriend burning kind of thing? Well...I actually hate matches so I'm not doing that haha. But mentally, I'm burning shit in my head. My hair might be redder tomorrow from the flames. Right now I'm rocking out to Adele. Not the sappy "I'll get over you and find someone just like you" Adele tracks but the "There's a fire starting in my heart/Reaching a fever pitch and it's bringing me out of the dark" angry and balsy Adele who wants to kick some Army butt!
Game on bitches! Who ya gonna call.....GHOSTBUSTERS!
Have you ever seen "Ghosts of Girlfriends Past?" Probably not. Despite having Jennifer Garner and Matthew McConaugh-Hey it was not great.....which is weird for me to say because I love cliche chick flicks. I do heart me some Emma Stone and she was great in this, but still, not a great movie. Do I own it anyway? Yes yes I do! Wait, I'm getting off topic. Sorry, adult ADD stepping in. Or maybe it's just that its Friday and I feel like I need an adult beverage.....shit, no, story telling first. Right. Halloween, ghost, scary. Ok, I'm on it now.
So, right, I'm being haunted. Kind of like in the above mentioned flick my ghosts are of my dating past. Men have almost a 6th sense as to when a women might be getting over them and then they swoop back in. It's weird and not fair. Here I am living my charmed little life in suburban Ohio, pretending I am richer than I am, drinking more than I should, and all around just being awesome when the worst ghost imaginable sends me a message and I freeze. After everything how does MAB still affect me?
I'm pretending this is the last time; that I'm done reacting. You have read how our story started (who doesn't love a girl who pukes), you know a little of the history (yummy ice cream), and while there will be more stories of our time together, I am telling you the end right now. I stopped it. I put an end to it. Months after him saying "I'm sorry, I just don't love you" to me on one of the worst days of my life he decided to e-mail me and ask me to call. He kept me on the phone for 4 hours saying he had been thinking about me. He told me to visit. Then when circumstances prevented that, he told me it was probably for the best, that we didn't need to open that can of worms again. Ummmmmmm, YUP, no worms here! (Ewww, I just got an image of anal worms....I don't know why, but gross). So I'm calling this the end. Do I mean it? Who knows? We all know I'm too nice to not answer when someone calls me, but I'm going to try.
Here is what I'm thinking: remember that episode of Friends where they have a seance boyfriend burning kind of thing? Well...I actually hate matches so I'm not doing that haha. But mentally, I'm burning shit in my head. My hair might be redder tomorrow from the flames. Right now I'm rocking out to Adele. Not the sappy "I'll get over you and find someone just like you" Adele tracks but the "There's a fire starting in my heart/Reaching a fever pitch and it's bringing me out of the dark" angry and balsy Adele who wants to kick some Army butt!
Game on bitches! Who ya gonna call.....GHOSTBUSTERS!
Wednesday, September 28, 2011
The concert was good.....oh wait, I didn't go that's right!
You know when you first meet someone and things seem to be going really well? I love that phase. You would think after all the shit that I have been though that phase would scare me. You would think that I would wait not so patiently with my pink mase and a knife to mame the man who ends that phase with a bang (as they all do so well). But no, I instead enjoy that phase and get sucked in like a little kid to the pedophiles car while getting offered candy. Sad, I know; but I just can't help but hope the candy will be good this time and that it won't leave me shitting in the street (a wonderful metaphor for my heart bleeding). I like visuals. Think Bridesmaids and me in a dress just shitting in the street because I can't take it anymore. Yup, sometimes that is what a crush does to you. Makes you lose control of your bowels.
Anyway, the happy phase. It begins with a lovely first date. In this particular case we were at a party. I'm a balsy chick, so when the boy I had yet to meet asked me to join him at a party for our first date (score 8,232,982,398 for match.com) I accepted. After all, I know how it is to be the only single person at a party, I didn't want my new crush to have to go alone. There was some hand holding, many flirty glances across the room, and a saucy game of beer pong. The night ended with some heavy making out by our cars. All in all, a great first date. Things progressed nicely. We began talking more often, texting throughout the day (almost 100% started by him....I did not want to come on too strong), and we had dinner the next weekend. I let him come up and we snuggled on the couch and watched a movie. I thought things were going very well. After the movie we kissed for a long time before I backed away and we cooled down. He said he should go since it was getting late and then we kissed some more. It was glorious. We agreed he should leave and we ended the night. Look at me, I'm a good girl! Woo Hoo! So, anyway, over the next 2 weeks every morning I received a message that said something along the lines of "Good morning beautiful" or "Hey babe, have a good day." You know, the sweet messages that make your heart melt and make you think this guy is amazing. YUP, those messages.
Things were going great! Making it even better he asked me to go to a concert with him the following Friday. It was a favorite band of his and he wanted me to see them. I said yes, and in return asked him to come with me to meet a couple of my friends out that night. This was big for me. When it comes to dating I am gun shy with introducing my friends to guys. I don't know why, I mean clearly I have gone out with some winners (insert super sarcastic face). This however was different, it went great and I was not too nervous. On the way home he even thanked me for letting him meet people who were so important to me. Really?!??! I was melting. Kind of like the Wicked Witch of the West when she gets water thrown on her....but in a good way. I was total putty in his hands. We got back to my house and you can guess what happened next. I caved. Good girl gone naughty. I'm sorry. I mean, I have needs, and he was cute, and he said nice things about me and was doing everything right. Ugh.
At 6am the next morning I woke up to him putting his jeans on. I rubbed my blurry eyes and asked where he was going. He said he was up and had things to do so thought he would get a start on the day. Yes, this is where there was an awkward silence. Me being adorable and nice I sat up and hugged him. This is not how it was supposed to go people. Where was my good morning sex, my "Hey! Let's go get breakfast together" conversation, and most importantly the smile I was supposed to see when he realized he was waking up with me. NONE OF THAT HAPPENED?!?!?! WTF? This was not what I imagined! I had a quick conversation with myself and said it will be ok, he really just has somewhere to be, don't stress and read too much into this. Don't be all girly, just be cool and calm and give him a kiss goodbye for the day. So I did just that. I love talking to myself, I give such great advice. He kissed me goodbye and said that he would call me later and that we had that concert on Friday so he would see me later in the week. Whew, good job self, he isn't blowing you off! I smiled and waved goodbye.
Nothing that day. Nothing the next day. Nothing the day after that. Mid week he cancelled the concert saying he had too much going on and would not be able to make it. I barely replied, I knew what was happening.
My question here is this: What the f&%k? How is that ok? Do guys really think that this is acceptable behavior? Why bother wasting some one's time and energy. If all you want is a little booty you can find that anywhere. Do not waste my time and say all the right things that make me think you want more from me. I do not understand how the system works. I'm at a loss.
Right now I'm shitting in the street.
Good news is I still love the happy phase.
Anyway, the happy phase. It begins with a lovely first date. In this particular case we were at a party. I'm a balsy chick, so when the boy I had yet to meet asked me to join him at a party for our first date (score 8,232,982,398 for match.com) I accepted. After all, I know how it is to be the only single person at a party, I didn't want my new crush to have to go alone. There was some hand holding, many flirty glances across the room, and a saucy game of beer pong. The night ended with some heavy making out by our cars. All in all, a great first date. Things progressed nicely. We began talking more often, texting throughout the day (almost 100% started by him....I did not want to come on too strong), and we had dinner the next weekend. I let him come up and we snuggled on the couch and watched a movie. I thought things were going very well. After the movie we kissed for a long time before I backed away and we cooled down. He said he should go since it was getting late and then we kissed some more. It was glorious. We agreed he should leave and we ended the night. Look at me, I'm a good girl! Woo Hoo! So, anyway, over the next 2 weeks every morning I received a message that said something along the lines of "Good morning beautiful" or "Hey babe, have a good day." You know, the sweet messages that make your heart melt and make you think this guy is amazing. YUP, those messages.
Things were going great! Making it even better he asked me to go to a concert with him the following Friday. It was a favorite band of his and he wanted me to see them. I said yes, and in return asked him to come with me to meet a couple of my friends out that night. This was big for me. When it comes to dating I am gun shy with introducing my friends to guys. I don't know why, I mean clearly I have gone out with some winners (insert super sarcastic face). This however was different, it went great and I was not too nervous. On the way home he even thanked me for letting him meet people who were so important to me. Really?!??! I was melting. Kind of like the Wicked Witch of the West when she gets water thrown on her....but in a good way. I was total putty in his hands. We got back to my house and you can guess what happened next. I caved. Good girl gone naughty. I'm sorry. I mean, I have needs, and he was cute, and he said nice things about me and was doing everything right. Ugh.
At 6am the next morning I woke up to him putting his jeans on. I rubbed my blurry eyes and asked where he was going. He said he was up and had things to do so thought he would get a start on the day. Yes, this is where there was an awkward silence. Me being adorable and nice I sat up and hugged him. This is not how it was supposed to go people. Where was my good morning sex, my "Hey! Let's go get breakfast together" conversation, and most importantly the smile I was supposed to see when he realized he was waking up with me. NONE OF THAT HAPPENED?!?!?! WTF? This was not what I imagined! I had a quick conversation with myself and said it will be ok, he really just has somewhere to be, don't stress and read too much into this. Don't be all girly, just be cool and calm and give him a kiss goodbye for the day. So I did just that. I love talking to myself, I give such great advice. He kissed me goodbye and said that he would call me later and that we had that concert on Friday so he would see me later in the week. Whew, good job self, he isn't blowing you off! I smiled and waved goodbye.
Nothing that day. Nothing the next day. Nothing the day after that. Mid week he cancelled the concert saying he had too much going on and would not be able to make it. I barely replied, I knew what was happening.
My question here is this: What the f&%k? How is that ok? Do guys really think that this is acceptable behavior? Why bother wasting some one's time and energy. If all you want is a little booty you can find that anywhere. Do not waste my time and say all the right things that make me think you want more from me. I do not understand how the system works. I'm at a loss.
Right now I'm shitting in the street.
Good news is I still love the happy phase.
Tuesday, September 27, 2011
Back on Track
Ok peeps, so I'm getting back on track with writing. It's a good outlet for me, so along with yoga and masterbation I just need to make the time. A girl has gotta de-stress somehow.
Stay tuned.
Stay tuned.
Friday, July 1, 2011
Conversations with children that make you want to stab your eyes out.
Kids have a way of blurting things out without using their inner monologue. I feel that the ability to control what you say must be something that comes with reaching a certain age. Hmmmm, wait a minute, that's not right because old people don't use their inner monologue either. Okay okay, I get it.....kids and old folks.....they can get away with saying whatever because, well, kids don't know any better and old people have lived enough life that they are excused from everything that might not be socially acceptable. Like farting in public. Have you ever been behind and old person in the grocery who has the walking farts? I mean, sometimes I almost want to ask where they got their invisible pet duck from. Shoot, that was a little mean. I actually love the elderly, it's just that gas is funny. I'm like a 4 year old boy; sometimes I hear people fart and I giggle. Oh wait! 4 year old boy! That's right, I'm supposed to be talking about kids here. Sorry, we know I get sidetracked.
So, anywho, kids. We love them. They are adorable. Blah blah blah. This story actually is two separate instances that happened over a year apart from one another, but still, somehow they magically fit together.
The altercation with "the boy":
I was enjoying a lovely dinner with a friend, her husband, their 2 year old, my friends' sister and her family (which consisted of her hubby and their 2 kids). AKA: I was in perfect family Hell; just the place where the single girl loves to be. Don't get me wrong, I absolutly love these people. They made room for me at family dinner (I mean, when you are feeding 7 people already whats 1 more body at the table? Take pitty on the single girl, please, we need to eat too.). It's just that sometimes I don't need anyone, let alone a child, making me feel bad. So, here is what happened. While sitting down to dinner the lovely adoring yet inquisitive eyes of a 4 year old boy were staring up at me. I asked this beautiful child what he was thinking and he replied to me with a question. Our conversation went something like this.....
Me: Do you have something to ask?
Boy: What are you?
Me: What? (look questioningly at friend and boys mother)
Boy: Where are your kids?
Me: I don't have any kids.
Boy: Oh, okay, so you are a kid. (He sat thinking for a long moment) You are small, but you are a little bigger then the normal kid???
Me: Well, I'm an adult.
Boy: But you don't have kids.
Me: No
Boy: Where is your husband?
Me: I don't have one.
Boy: ???????
Me: Okay, listen, I don't have a husband or kids.
Boy: Ohhhhhh, so you are a kid. Do you have a mom? Do you have a dad?
Me: Yes, I have a mom and a dad, I actually live with them right now (giant sigh as I realize I'm explaining to a 4 year old that I am 29 and living with my parents because I have no husband or kids of my own).
Boy: I get it now. You're a kid. Just a big one.
Me: No, you're not listening, I'm an adult.
Boy: But if you don't have kids then you must be one. All adults have kids, you don't have kids, so you are a kid.
Me: (Silently to myself I yell "HE ISN'T LISTENING TO ME!!! OK SELF, CONTROL YOUR TEMPER, BREATHE, HE IS JUST A KID, HE DOESN'T KNOW YOU ARE CRAZY SENSITIVE ABOUT YOUR CURRENT LIFE SITUATION. BREATHE. Just laugh, excuse your self to the bathroom and then cry into your hands and get it all out. That's right girl, get it out. You will be in there a while crying, shoot, tell them you are something that made you feel funny. Their dinner made you cry and it made you have to poop! Haha, you said poop. Poop. HAHAHA It's still funny. Poop. HAHAHA. Whew, okay self, good job, you calmed yourself down. All it took was some good poop thoughts. Well done!)
Boy: Why are you laughing?
Me: No reason, sometimes big kids just laugh.
The altercation with "the girl":
It was a lovely summer day that I was spending with my niece whom I love more than words can say. At the time she was 5 years old and on this particular day she made me want to throw one of my stilettos at her cute round little face. Our conversation went something like this.....
Niece: Do you want to play house?
Me: Sure!
Niece: Okay, let's go upstairs. I'll get my baby and be the momm, you can pretend to be my husband.
Me: Ummmm , okay, let's go.
Niece: Where is your husband?
Me: I'm confused, I thought I was playing your husband?
Niece: No, not in the game, in real life. Where is he?
Me: Oh, I don't have one.
Niece: Then your boyfriend, where is he? How come he never hangs out with us?
Me: Well, I don't have a boyfriend either.
Niece: So you don't have any kids? Mommy says that you need to be married to have kids and you're not married. Do you not want kids is that why you aren't married? You don't want a boyfriend or a husband?
Me: .........
Niece: I have a boyfriend. He is in my class at school. He lives down the street. I'm pretty sure my cousin has a boyfriend. Why don't you? Is there something wrong with you?
Me: ......
Niece: (staring sweetly at me waiting for an answer)
Me: .....Well.....uhhh....you see.....sometimes not all people have boyfriends or husbands.
Niece: But you're old. (long pause) Didn't you used to have a husband? I remember someone I used to call Uncle when I was little (as if she is so big right now!)
Me: Well yes, I was married, but I'm not anymore. So for now, it's just me. No boyfriend, no husband, no kids.
Niece: So you live all alone? No one is with you?
Me: (sigh) No, it's just me. Can we play house now please, I'd like to pretend I have a family, even if it is a 5 year old wife and a plastic baby.
Kids. We love them. They are adorable. Sometimes we want to shove a muzzle over their mouths. Ugh, but they mean well with their little inquisitive minds. Too cute to be mad at. Nothing a good chick flick, a bag of popcorn, and a bottle of wine can't fix. Wait, that usually makes it worse. Oh well, a toast please: Here's to not letting "kid word vomit" get to ya! Slainte!!
So, anywho, kids. We love them. They are adorable. Blah blah blah. This story actually is two separate instances that happened over a year apart from one another, but still, somehow they magically fit together.
The altercation with "the boy":
I was enjoying a lovely dinner with a friend, her husband, their 2 year old, my friends' sister and her family (which consisted of her hubby and their 2 kids). AKA: I was in perfect family Hell; just the place where the single girl loves to be. Don't get me wrong, I absolutly love these people. They made room for me at family dinner (I mean, when you are feeding 7 people already whats 1 more body at the table? Take pitty on the single girl, please, we need to eat too.). It's just that sometimes I don't need anyone, let alone a child, making me feel bad. So, here is what happened. While sitting down to dinner the lovely adoring yet inquisitive eyes of a 4 year old boy were staring up at me. I asked this beautiful child what he was thinking and he replied to me with a question. Our conversation went something like this.....
Me: Do you have something to ask?
Boy: What are you?
Me: What? (look questioningly at friend and boys mother)
Boy: Where are your kids?
Me: I don't have any kids.
Boy: Oh, okay, so you are a kid. (He sat thinking for a long moment) You are small, but you are a little bigger then the normal kid???
Me: Well, I'm an adult.
Boy: But you don't have kids.
Me: No
Boy: Where is your husband?
Me: I don't have one.
Boy: ???????
Me: Okay, listen, I don't have a husband or kids.
Boy: Ohhhhhh, so you are a kid. Do you have a mom? Do you have a dad?
Me: Yes, I have a mom and a dad, I actually live with them right now (giant sigh as I realize I'm explaining to a 4 year old that I am 29 and living with my parents because I have no husband or kids of my own).
Boy: I get it now. You're a kid. Just a big one.
Me: No, you're not listening, I'm an adult.
Boy: But if you don't have kids then you must be one. All adults have kids, you don't have kids, so you are a kid.
Me: (Silently to myself I yell "HE ISN'T LISTENING TO ME!!! OK SELF, CONTROL YOUR TEMPER, BREATHE, HE IS JUST A KID, HE DOESN'T KNOW YOU ARE CRAZY SENSITIVE ABOUT YOUR CURRENT LIFE SITUATION. BREATHE. Just laugh, excuse your self to the bathroom and then cry into your hands and get it all out. That's right girl, get it out. You will be in there a while crying, shoot, tell them you are something that made you feel funny. Their dinner made you cry and it made you have to poop! Haha, you said poop. Poop. HAHAHA It's still funny. Poop. HAHAHA. Whew, okay self, good job, you calmed yourself down. All it took was some good poop thoughts. Well done!)
Boy: Why are you laughing?
Me: No reason, sometimes big kids just laugh.
The altercation with "the girl":
It was a lovely summer day that I was spending with my niece whom I love more than words can say. At the time she was 5 years old and on this particular day she made me want to throw one of my stilettos at her cute round little face. Our conversation went something like this.....
Niece: Do you want to play house?
Me: Sure!
Niece: Okay, let's go upstairs. I'll get my baby and be the momm, you can pretend to be my husband.
Me: Ummmm , okay, let's go.
Niece: Where is your husband?
Me: I'm confused, I thought I was playing your husband?
Niece: No, not in the game, in real life. Where is he?
Me: Oh, I don't have one.
Niece: Then your boyfriend, where is he? How come he never hangs out with us?
Me: Well, I don't have a boyfriend either.
Niece: So you don't have any kids? Mommy says that you need to be married to have kids and you're not married. Do you not want kids is that why you aren't married? You don't want a boyfriend or a husband?
Me: .........
Niece: I have a boyfriend. He is in my class at school. He lives down the street. I'm pretty sure my cousin has a boyfriend. Why don't you? Is there something wrong with you?
Me: ......
Niece: (staring sweetly at me waiting for an answer)
Me: .....Well.....uhhh....you see.....sometimes not all people have boyfriends or husbands.
Niece: But you're old. (long pause) Didn't you used to have a husband? I remember someone I used to call Uncle when I was little (as if she is so big right now!)
Me: Well yes, I was married, but I'm not anymore. So for now, it's just me. No boyfriend, no husband, no kids.
Niece: So you live all alone? No one is with you?
Me: (sigh) No, it's just me. Can we play house now please, I'd like to pretend I have a family, even if it is a 5 year old wife and a plastic baby.
Kids. We love them. They are adorable. Sometimes we want to shove a muzzle over their mouths. Ugh, but they mean well with their little inquisitive minds. Too cute to be mad at. Nothing a good chick flick, a bag of popcorn, and a bottle of wine can't fix. Wait, that usually makes it worse. Oh well, a toast please: Here's to not letting "kid word vomit" get to ya! Slainte!!
How can I take the guy who cuts the lawn at work lemonade without it being innapropriate?
I need to learn how to make lemonade. Like really good lemonade. Fast.
Isn't that what you serve really really HOTT men who are sweaty and doing manual labor outside in the sun during the summer?
I might have just had an orgasm thinking about it. Ok, I did, there was no "might have." Ugh, he is super sexy.
So, ya, I have this problem. The guy who cuts the lawn at work is mega hot. Like if Jake Gyllenhall was cutting my lawn and this guy was cutting my lawn, I'm not sure who I would offer the lemonade to first. That's a big deal. I have been waking up in the middle of the night humping my bed to dreams of Jake for years (wow, I'm totally inappropriate, and apparently hornier than most men I know), but this guy is good looking. Every week when he is here I keep trying to find excuses to go outside. I have gotten the mail, put something in my car, taken a random walk.....I think it's starting to get obvious. I have done everything short of wearing a white t-shirt and walk outside pouring cold water all over my body. (The thought has crossed my mind, don't underestimate me.)
This guy own the company too, so he is not just some worker bee, but the head of the whole production. Did I mention he was yummy???
So, all I am asking for here is a little help. Lemonade recipes please. They need to be refreshing, tasty, light, and maybe contain a love potion. I don't ask much.
Thank you in advance for your cooperation.
Isn't that what you serve really really HOTT men who are sweaty and doing manual labor outside in the sun during the summer?
I might have just had an orgasm thinking about it. Ok, I did, there was no "might have." Ugh, he is super sexy.
So, ya, I have this problem. The guy who cuts the lawn at work is mega hot. Like if Jake Gyllenhall was cutting my lawn and this guy was cutting my lawn, I'm not sure who I would offer the lemonade to first. That's a big deal. I have been waking up in the middle of the night humping my bed to dreams of Jake for years (wow, I'm totally inappropriate, and apparently hornier than most men I know), but this guy is good looking. Every week when he is here I keep trying to find excuses to go outside. I have gotten the mail, put something in my car, taken a random walk.....I think it's starting to get obvious. I have done everything short of wearing a white t-shirt and walk outside pouring cold water all over my body. (The thought has crossed my mind, don't underestimate me.)
This guy own the company too, so he is not just some worker bee, but the head of the whole production. Did I mention he was yummy???
So, all I am asking for here is a little help. Lemonade recipes please. They need to be refreshing, tasty, light, and maybe contain a love potion. I don't ask much.
Thank you in advance for your cooperation.
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
Next time I go on a date I will remember to bring orange juice
I don't even know where to start this.
Like really.
It was that bad.
It's not that I'm not sympathetic to those with medical issues, because I am, it's just that there are things you can do to avoid armageddon from happening on a first date.
I should have known it was going to be fantastic seeing as how we "met" on match.com (Remember how much I heart that website). Anyway, as per the usual way online dating goes, we e-mailed a bit, then texted, then finally talked on the phone. We planned to meet for dinner/a drink in the middle of the week. Oh, and by the way, we shall call this man OJ.....you'll figure out why.
Anyway, after chatting OJ up I decided he was safe and that I would meet him at his house so that we could go to dinner together. I got there and was pleasantly surprised....he was just as cute in person as in his pictures! Who knew! You would be surprised how often people look like Jake Gyllenhall in their pics and then you end up on a date with Steve Buscemi. I mean how do muscles get replaced with saggy weird eyes? I don't know, but it happens. The dating world is a weird warp zone where hotties get replaced with creepers, I swear. So, anyway, where was I....sorry, I get sidetracked easily when I think of muscles....and Jake....and oh those blue eyes....and oh...god....the hottness....and shit, now I'm horny. God! I keep getting off track.
Ok.
OJ.
Disasterous date.
No Jake.
Got it.
So, I'm at OJ's place and he is showing me around giving me the grand tour. Fun times peeps. We get in the car and head to dinner. The restaurant had no idea what they were in for. We got seated, ordered our beers, and decided on what to eat. The conversation was flowing smoothly, some laughter and not too many awkward pauses...yet. Our food was delivered and something changed. All of a sudden OJ stopped replying to me. I was eating and trying to make conversation, but every time I looked up he had this weird look on his face. I just kept eating my dinner thinking to myself crap, do I have something on my face, is there chicken in my tooth, did I spill something on my shirt and he is trying not to laugh? I don't understand what's happening here. For a while I just kept eating. The silence was deafening. It was almost as if all the other tables had stopped talking too because I could not hear anything other than my heart racing.
I finally looked up again to see OJ gripping the table. Hard. He started to push on it. Shake it. Move it. (Side note: Every time I hear someone say "move it" I picture being back in the 90's and rockin out to Reel 2 Real....you know you want to sing it right now, go on with your bad self. I like to move it move it!) Ok, back on track. The table is shaking, moving, being gripped by a man whose face looks so distorted I was scared. I asked him if he was ok. No answer. I sat there. The server came over, stared, and asked if we were ok. I said that I thought so and she left. Again, I asked if he was ok. Again, no answer. The table was being pushed closer to me. There was more shaking. I got up, visibaly scared and asked if he was ok. Nothing. People were staring. The server came back over and asked if we were ok again to which I replied "I'm not really sure what's happening." I begged OJ to talk to me. Nothing. The manager saw us. He came over. He took one look at us and asked what was going on and what I usually did when this kind of thing happened. In shock my reply was "I don't know what I usually do, welcome to our first date, we met 30 mintues ago. I don't know what's happening." I'm loud, I'm sure many people heard because they were all staring. A bartender came over and took one look and asked me if he was diabebtic. Hey lady, remember when WE JUST MET!?!?!?!? She brought over a cup of orange juice. OJ gulped it down. She handed him the gallon jug and he drank the whole thing. If he had been in a keg chugging contest he might have won. The manager tried to make me feel better by telling me that on his first date with his wife he forgot his wallet and made her pay. They have been married for 35 years. Ok, you forgot your wallet, my date is having a seizure. Not the same thing. After a few more minutes of standing there, the sweating started to slow down (mine and his, haha), some of the stares had been averted, and OJ was now sitting. Finally he spoke. "What the FUCK was that?" Really buddy. Really. That is what you are going to say? The waitress, the bartender, and the manger left us (sounds like the beginning to a joke....this one was not funny unfortunatly), and we were back to sitting alone at the table.
After triple checking to make sure that OJ was ok we continued on with dinner. We paid our bill (after all that shit they could not have given us a free meal!), and left. Together. Remember, I was stuck going back to his house. So, in the car I checked again to make sure he was ok and then asked if this was something that frequently happened to him. It was in this conversation I learned a couple things. OJ is indeed diabetic. He has been since age 4. His doctors want to put him on an Insulin pump beacuse his diabetes is so bad but he refuses to comply because he wants to be able to go shirtless in the summer since he has nice abs. Apparantly a tiny tube that helps to keep you alive is a distraction. Oh, and he almost died a few months ago but has not changed his lifestyle at all. Awesome.
He apologized and asked if I was brave enough to see him again to let him know. I hugged him goodnight, and left.
The next morning I received another text. Again, aplogizing. I'm not heartless, and I do realize that things happen (you would think that after 33 years of having a disease you would be able to manage better, or be prepared, or feel the warning signs coming on that something VERY BAD was about to happen so you could tell your first date that you were about to have a diabetic seizure, but whatever), so ya know everyone deserves a second chance.
I went over a couple of days later. We were snuggling on the couch watching TV when he brought up the other night. Notice I said he brought it up, not me. So, me being curious I nicely asked him something along the lines of, "This has to be really hard on you, is there anything that you think you can do, or that you have discussed with your doctors to do to prevent things from happening? I just feel like there has to be a better way, just for your benefit." In my head I was really thinking hey asshole, remember when if you are diabetic you probably should not have ordered beer while we were out, and how you should be on an insulin pump, and how you should expand your normal drinking to something beyond caffeineated beverages because even I know thats not healthy! I'm not a doctor or a nurse and I don't have dibetes but I can tell you multiple things you can change right now that might make a difference in...oh, I don't know, YOU LIVING! But no, I'm rational, and sweet, and I did not say what was going through my head. I cannot say the same for OJ. He yelled. And got angry. And told me how dare I even ask a question regarding his health when I knew nothing about him. He was doing everything necessary (not true) to keep his diabetes under control. I could not even tell you what he said because he was so irrational, and I was stunned. When he finished, I apologized (because as a self proclaimed "pleaser" thats what I do, when I get yelled at for no reason I apologize....you know, because that makes sense). I simply told him that I had been scared the other night and was scared for him and was simply trying to know if there was anything that I could do or any other way it could be approached, for his benefit. He yelled some more. I apologized again and asked to drop it. 20 minutes later I left.
He texted multiple times after that, I stopped replying. Everyone gets a second chance, he did not deserve a third.
Moral here: Shaking things up on a first date is not always a good thing.
Like really.
It was that bad.
It's not that I'm not sympathetic to those with medical issues, because I am, it's just that there are things you can do to avoid armageddon from happening on a first date.
I should have known it was going to be fantastic seeing as how we "met" on match.com (Remember how much I heart that website). Anyway, as per the usual way online dating goes, we e-mailed a bit, then texted, then finally talked on the phone. We planned to meet for dinner/a drink in the middle of the week. Oh, and by the way, we shall call this man OJ.....you'll figure out why.
Anyway, after chatting OJ up I decided he was safe and that I would meet him at his house so that we could go to dinner together. I got there and was pleasantly surprised....he was just as cute in person as in his pictures! Who knew! You would be surprised how often people look like Jake Gyllenhall in their pics and then you end up on a date with Steve Buscemi. I mean how do muscles get replaced with saggy weird eyes? I don't know, but it happens. The dating world is a weird warp zone where hotties get replaced with creepers, I swear. So, anyway, where was I....sorry, I get sidetracked easily when I think of muscles....and Jake....and oh those blue eyes....and oh...god....the hottness....and shit, now I'm horny. God! I keep getting off track.
Ok.
OJ.
Disasterous date.
No Jake.
Got it.
So, I'm at OJ's place and he is showing me around giving me the grand tour. Fun times peeps. We get in the car and head to dinner. The restaurant had no idea what they were in for. We got seated, ordered our beers, and decided on what to eat. The conversation was flowing smoothly, some laughter and not too many awkward pauses...yet. Our food was delivered and something changed. All of a sudden OJ stopped replying to me. I was eating and trying to make conversation, but every time I looked up he had this weird look on his face. I just kept eating my dinner thinking to myself crap, do I have something on my face, is there chicken in my tooth, did I spill something on my shirt and he is trying not to laugh? I don't understand what's happening here. For a while I just kept eating. The silence was deafening. It was almost as if all the other tables had stopped talking too because I could not hear anything other than my heart racing.
I finally looked up again to see OJ gripping the table. Hard. He started to push on it. Shake it. Move it. (Side note: Every time I hear someone say "move it" I picture being back in the 90's and rockin out to Reel 2 Real....you know you want to sing it right now, go on with your bad self. I like to move it move it!) Ok, back on track. The table is shaking, moving, being gripped by a man whose face looks so distorted I was scared. I asked him if he was ok. No answer. I sat there. The server came over, stared, and asked if we were ok. I said that I thought so and she left. Again, I asked if he was ok. Again, no answer. The table was being pushed closer to me. There was more shaking. I got up, visibaly scared and asked if he was ok. Nothing. People were staring. The server came back over and asked if we were ok again to which I replied "I'm not really sure what's happening." I begged OJ to talk to me. Nothing. The manager saw us. He came over. He took one look at us and asked what was going on and what I usually did when this kind of thing happened. In shock my reply was "I don't know what I usually do, welcome to our first date, we met 30 mintues ago. I don't know what's happening." I'm loud, I'm sure many people heard because they were all staring. A bartender came over and took one look and asked me if he was diabebtic. Hey lady, remember when WE JUST MET!?!?!?!? She brought over a cup of orange juice. OJ gulped it down. She handed him the gallon jug and he drank the whole thing. If he had been in a keg chugging contest he might have won. The manager tried to make me feel better by telling me that on his first date with his wife he forgot his wallet and made her pay. They have been married for 35 years. Ok, you forgot your wallet, my date is having a seizure. Not the same thing. After a few more minutes of standing there, the sweating started to slow down (mine and his, haha), some of the stares had been averted, and OJ was now sitting. Finally he spoke. "What the FUCK was that?" Really buddy. Really. That is what you are going to say? The waitress, the bartender, and the manger left us (sounds like the beginning to a joke....this one was not funny unfortunatly), and we were back to sitting alone at the table.
After triple checking to make sure that OJ was ok we continued on with dinner. We paid our bill (after all that shit they could not have given us a free meal!), and left. Together. Remember, I was stuck going back to his house. So, in the car I checked again to make sure he was ok and then asked if this was something that frequently happened to him. It was in this conversation I learned a couple things. OJ is indeed diabetic. He has been since age 4. His doctors want to put him on an Insulin pump beacuse his diabetes is so bad but he refuses to comply because he wants to be able to go shirtless in the summer since he has nice abs. Apparantly a tiny tube that helps to keep you alive is a distraction. Oh, and he almost died a few months ago but has not changed his lifestyle at all. Awesome.
He apologized and asked if I was brave enough to see him again to let him know. I hugged him goodnight, and left.
The next morning I received another text. Again, aplogizing. I'm not heartless, and I do realize that things happen (you would think that after 33 years of having a disease you would be able to manage better, or be prepared, or feel the warning signs coming on that something VERY BAD was about to happen so you could tell your first date that you were about to have a diabetic seizure, but whatever), so ya know everyone deserves a second chance.
I went over a couple of days later. We were snuggling on the couch watching TV when he brought up the other night. Notice I said he brought it up, not me. So, me being curious I nicely asked him something along the lines of, "This has to be really hard on you, is there anything that you think you can do, or that you have discussed with your doctors to do to prevent things from happening? I just feel like there has to be a better way, just for your benefit." In my head I was really thinking hey asshole, remember when if you are diabetic you probably should not have ordered beer while we were out, and how you should be on an insulin pump, and how you should expand your normal drinking to something beyond caffeineated beverages because even I know thats not healthy! I'm not a doctor or a nurse and I don't have dibetes but I can tell you multiple things you can change right now that might make a difference in...oh, I don't know, YOU LIVING! But no, I'm rational, and sweet, and I did not say what was going through my head. I cannot say the same for OJ. He yelled. And got angry. And told me how dare I even ask a question regarding his health when I knew nothing about him. He was doing everything necessary (not true) to keep his diabetes under control. I could not even tell you what he said because he was so irrational, and I was stunned. When he finished, I apologized (because as a self proclaimed "pleaser" thats what I do, when I get yelled at for no reason I apologize....you know, because that makes sense). I simply told him that I had been scared the other night and was scared for him and was simply trying to know if there was anything that I could do or any other way it could be approached, for his benefit. He yelled some more. I apologized again and asked to drop it. 20 minutes later I left.
He texted multiple times after that, I stopped replying. Everyone gets a second chance, he did not deserve a third.
Moral here: Shaking things up on a first date is not always a good thing.
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
Of course you're interested in me, you're married!!!
I have recently discovered a new trend in the fashion world. No wait, this is not fashion. It's not like I'm wearing some new piece of clothing. The trend I have discovered is much stranger, darker, naughtier. Even I don't quite understand it.
I am apparently only attractive to married men.
Now, its not like I'm going out looking for the tan lined finger of a gentleman pretending to be single in my bar. I am not that kind of lady thank you very much. What happens is much more innocent than that. Be it a work situation, or just a friend of a friend, a casual acquaintance, or yes, even a group thing at a bar I seem to draw the married folk in. Since there is no risk of this being a "dating" situation, I am perfectly comfortable being my incredibly awesome self. Mistake #1. I become irresistible. There needs to be a way to harness this power towards the greater good of finding an available man.
The larger problem comes in the fact that men are tricky. Married men are trickier. They got someone to marry them once, so they know what women want. They know what we want to hear and they know we need follow through. I'm not even sure that I knew I was being pursued at first, I might be a little naive yes I'll admit that, but who would think that was what was happening. I always give people the benefit of the doubt. So like I said, married men are tricky. They steal your phone when you go to the bathroom, get your number off of it and days later send you a message. You let it go because really, that's not happening. Maybe a year and a half later when you see them again they tell you that they haven't stopped thinking about you and want to see you. Again, you say, whoa, super flattered, but ya, not happening. I could go on and on and give details as to apparently how awesome and desirable I am to multiple people...none of whom will A) ever have the pleasure of actually knowing how wonderful I am as a person or B) ever have the pleasure of actually knowing how wonderful I am in bed (both OUT OF THIS WORLD). I will not give in to these men, they are not worth it because they mean nothing to me.
What does mean something to me is figuring out why it is that the only people I seem to be attracting are those who are already taken. So, I'm going to conduct an interview. I'm going to ask these men why I am attractive to them, what it is about me that is so alluring. I mean, I don't care if they think I'm a weirdo for asking, they aren't gonna get a piece of this anyway! hahaha
Maybe this will help, maybe it won't, but at least I know that I'm trying, right! I have not given up yet!
I am apparently only attractive to married men.
Now, its not like I'm going out looking for the tan lined finger of a gentleman pretending to be single in my bar. I am not that kind of lady thank you very much. What happens is much more innocent than that. Be it a work situation, or just a friend of a friend, a casual acquaintance, or yes, even a group thing at a bar I seem to draw the married folk in. Since there is no risk of this being a "dating" situation, I am perfectly comfortable being my incredibly awesome self. Mistake #1. I become irresistible. There needs to be a way to harness this power towards the greater good of finding an available man.
The larger problem comes in the fact that men are tricky. Married men are trickier. They got someone to marry them once, so they know what women want. They know what we want to hear and they know we need follow through. I'm not even sure that I knew I was being pursued at first, I might be a little naive yes I'll admit that, but who would think that was what was happening. I always give people the benefit of the doubt. So like I said, married men are tricky. They steal your phone when you go to the bathroom, get your number off of it and days later send you a message. You let it go because really, that's not happening. Maybe a year and a half later when you see them again they tell you that they haven't stopped thinking about you and want to see you. Again, you say, whoa, super flattered, but ya, not happening. I could go on and on and give details as to apparently how awesome and desirable I am to multiple people...none of whom will A) ever have the pleasure of actually knowing how wonderful I am as a person or B) ever have the pleasure of actually knowing how wonderful I am in bed (both OUT OF THIS WORLD). I will not give in to these men, they are not worth it because they mean nothing to me.
What does mean something to me is figuring out why it is that the only people I seem to be attracting are those who are already taken. So, I'm going to conduct an interview. I'm going to ask these men why I am attractive to them, what it is about me that is so alluring. I mean, I don't care if they think I'm a weirdo for asking, they aren't gonna get a piece of this anyway! hahaha
Maybe this will help, maybe it won't, but at least I know that I'm trying, right! I have not given up yet!
Wednesday, June 1, 2011
Ice Cream, Blood, and Camo
Seeing as how yesterday was Memorial Day I thought it was only appropriate to tell a story about MAB (we met here).
From reading above you know that things started so well. After the wonderful first date that ended with 2 days in the hospital I saw MAB again the day I was released. What I failed to mention in the story of how we met was that on our first date I found out that he was leaving. By leaving I of course mean he was being deployed. He had gotten his assigment that week, and at the end of the year (only 8 months away) he would be heading to Iraq for a year. To this day I honestly feel that had a lot to do with why things went so well with MAB.....I was myself, there was no pressure, we knew he was leaving so we enjoyed what we had without putting labels or stress on it. It was glorious.
Anyway, the weekend after we first met MAB had drill to prepare for deployment. It was closer to my house than his and since it was all weekend long I invited him to stay with me.....I know, we knew each other a week, you're thinking I'm a tramp. But like I said he was HOTT and I really liked him. Deal with it. So, after his first night of drill he showed up at my apartment and called me from the door buzzer. He told me to meet him downstairs because he was starving and needed food. I might have skipped down because I was so excited.
There standing on the stoop was the most gorgeous man I had ever seen.....and in uniform. There he stood at 6'2" in full camo. I melted (well, and it was super hot out that night so I literally could have melted, I don't do well in the heat....my hair gets all weird). Anyway, I mustered up the energy to jump on him in the parking lot and give him a big kiss before we went to Subway. Standing in line I was sure everyone was staring, I mean HELLO CAN'T YOU SEE THE HOTTIE IN UNIFORM WITH ME?!?!?!? We stood there together and he got dinner.
I on the other hand, wanted ice cream. Here is where the trouble started. We went next door so that I could get a scoop to go. The place was closing but they let us in....I still think they only did it for the hottie in uniform =) Anyway, I ordered my ice cream, we walked out to the parking lot, they locked up behind us, I took my first lick and.....wow, I have a powerful tongue.....I knocked all my ice cream off the cone.
NNNOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
MAB just stood and laughed at me, I cried. I sulked to the car and tripped on my flip flop and fell on my face. On the pavement. There I sat, hottie in uniform looking down at the little mess of a woman with a bloody knee and ice cream on her shirt.
Super hott.
This is where every woman makes a choice: A) Act all embarrassed and get super timid and not talk the rest of the night or B) Laugh at yourself, lay down on the pavement, and just continue giggling because really, life is too short to not be able to laugh when this shit happens. I chose B, because this shit happens to me all the fucking time. I'm funny, clumsy, sometimes awkward, but always know how to laugh it off.
So, I may not have gotten any ice cream that night, but I did get MAB in the shower washing off the pavement stuck in my knee. Trust me, that's way better.
The moral here is this: stupid and embarrassing things are going to happen to us all on dates (and in life for that matter). We need to learn to laugh them off. Something good is always waiting (like a hottie in the shower!!! jk, that might not always be there, but something good will be).
---Thank you to all the service men and women who have served our country. It is because of you that we can call ourselves free.
From reading above you know that things started so well. After the wonderful first date that ended with 2 days in the hospital I saw MAB again the day I was released. What I failed to mention in the story of how we met was that on our first date I found out that he was leaving. By leaving I of course mean he was being deployed. He had gotten his assigment that week, and at the end of the year (only 8 months away) he would be heading to Iraq for a year. To this day I honestly feel that had a lot to do with why things went so well with MAB.....I was myself, there was no pressure, we knew he was leaving so we enjoyed what we had without putting labels or stress on it. It was glorious.
Anyway, the weekend after we first met MAB had drill to prepare for deployment. It was closer to my house than his and since it was all weekend long I invited him to stay with me.....I know, we knew each other a week, you're thinking I'm a tramp. But like I said he was HOTT and I really liked him. Deal with it. So, after his first night of drill he showed up at my apartment and called me from the door buzzer. He told me to meet him downstairs because he was starving and needed food. I might have skipped down because I was so excited.
There standing on the stoop was the most gorgeous man I had ever seen.....and in uniform. There he stood at 6'2" in full camo. I melted (well, and it was super hot out that night so I literally could have melted, I don't do well in the heat....my hair gets all weird). Anyway, I mustered up the energy to jump on him in the parking lot and give him a big kiss before we went to Subway. Standing in line I was sure everyone was staring, I mean HELLO CAN'T YOU SEE THE HOTTIE IN UNIFORM WITH ME?!?!?!? We stood there together and he got dinner.
I on the other hand, wanted ice cream. Here is where the trouble started. We went next door so that I could get a scoop to go. The place was closing but they let us in....I still think they only did it for the hottie in uniform =) Anyway, I ordered my ice cream, we walked out to the parking lot, they locked up behind us, I took my first lick and.....wow, I have a powerful tongue.....I knocked all my ice cream off the cone.
NNNOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
MAB just stood and laughed at me, I cried. I sulked to the car and tripped on my flip flop and fell on my face. On the pavement. There I sat, hottie in uniform looking down at the little mess of a woman with a bloody knee and ice cream on her shirt.
Super hott.
This is where every woman makes a choice: A) Act all embarrassed and get super timid and not talk the rest of the night or B) Laugh at yourself, lay down on the pavement, and just continue giggling because really, life is too short to not be able to laugh when this shit happens. I chose B, because this shit happens to me all the fucking time. I'm funny, clumsy, sometimes awkward, but always know how to laugh it off.
So, I may not have gotten any ice cream that night, but I did get MAB in the shower washing off the pavement stuck in my knee. Trust me, that's way better.
The moral here is this: stupid and embarrassing things are going to happen to us all on dates (and in life for that matter). We need to learn to laugh them off. Something good is always waiting (like a hottie in the shower!!! jk, that might not always be there, but something good will be).
---Thank you to all the service men and women who have served our country. It is because of you that we can call ourselves free.
Monday, April 25, 2011
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.
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.
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.
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
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.
Friday, April 15, 2011
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.
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
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.
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.
Monday, April 11, 2011
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.
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.
Thursday, April 7, 2011
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.
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.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)