This post, kiddies, is not going to be the typical wise ass humor with the moral at the end. I guess, this is more of me wearing my heart on my sleeve and trying to figure out where to go from here. This is me trying to get my thoughts together to figure out what's best for me.
I find, when dating, some people always have that one person they'd love to be with, but for one reason or another they can't. With this person, you can either let them go forever and never look back, or you can keep them in your life as a friend. Most sane people will turn that person loose while others, like myself, are what I like to call emotional masochist, and torture themselves by keeping these people in their lives. I try to justify it by telling myself that it's better to have this Tony the Tiger in my life as a friend then nothing at all, when really I know all I'm doing is kicking myself in my non-existant balls. I don't know if I just like to hurt myself (Oh my word. I sound like one sick son of a bitch that cuts herself. I swear I don't) or if I really care a lot about this guy that I'd go through hell and high water to keep him in my life.
Yes, my lovelies. I hung out with Tony the Tiger again and no we did not kiss. It was strictly platonic and no not the type of "platonic" you use when describing some hot person to your signaficant other. Anyhoo! Everytime I hang around with him it's the best time I ever have. There's never a dull moment and my face hurts from smiling. I try to find something about him that I find simply repulsive, but I can't. Maybe I'm not looking hard enough? Am I really looking at this situation through rose colored glasses? Do I need to ask him why we won't work? Will I be able to handle the answer he gives me? These kind of questions and a feeling of complete confusion and sadness wash over me 10 minutes after he leaves. I'm always left with the confused "WTF" face (You know the face and if you don't, just turn on The Jersey Shore. This type of face is constatnly painted on each person of that cast) searching for answers to questions I'm too afraid to ask. I hate this feeling of befudlement and feeling like I'm chasing a damn shooting star. I hate talking about my feelings, well, these kind of feelings. This is what makes me think that I must be some sick twisted individual that likes the mental fuck he leaves me with. Oh God, please don't let me be *that* girl that always ends up with these type of guys.
Well, kiddies I guess I can pull a moral out of this short post. Don't be a masochist, at least not an emotional masochist. Otherwise you'll end up on the other end of a computer screen trying to type out you're feelings, but only end up more confused than you started. Trust me, it sucks old balls.
Friday, November 23, 2012
Thursday, November 22, 2012
Learning to flirt....at 28
I figured before I drift off into my post Thanksgiving turkey stupor, I'd write a little about my misadventures of learning to flirt. Happy Thanksgiving, by the way to all who celebrate this excuse of a holiday to openingly commit gluttony.
So, like I said in a previous post, I wasted my formative flirting years being married. I married very young, at 20, like an idiot. Why in the hell would you do that you dumb girl? Well, I was about to tell you before I was so rudely interrupted.
All through school I was not really the popular kid. I wasn't the type to follow the crowd in order to be cool and it didn't help that my parents had a tight leash on me. So tight that one could call it a choke collar. When most teenagers are having their first signatificant others (in middle school), I could not get a boy to even think I was pretty. My mother worked at the middle school I went to and my father worked at the elementary school across the street from the high school I went to. With all those factors, I might as well have had malaria or a flesh eating virus. No boy would even stand within a 5 mile radius of me for fear of my parents (more so my father) thinking they liked me. Granted, I did have male friends, but they saw me as one of the guys. Because of this, I feel, I quickly developed my smart ass funny girl routine that I now fall back on so much. Let's put it this way...my senior year of high school most girls worry about what guy is going to ask them to prom, right? I already knew I wasn't going to get asked. Most of the guys I went to school with couldn't imagine me in a dress and getting all foofy-ed up. No, I wasn't butch or walked around like a had a huge dick in my jeans. I was just very blunt and not the type of girly girl that most guys at that age (well, at any age) wanted.
Wah wah wah! What is this? A pitty blog? A lets feel sorry for the poor blogger who couldn't get a boy to like her. Uh...no. I'm merely giving you back story to my lack of flirting so shut the hell up so you can get back to your turkey overdose.
Well, fast forward to me graduating highschool and working at my first job at a department store and going to college. Until then, I never thought a guy would look my way let alone ask me out. Enter my ex husband. He was the first boy that ever really paid attention to me in that way a guy does when he wants to be more than just your friend. Needless to say, being the dumbass I am. I ended up marrying him at 20. I spent my early 20's being a married woman who had never in her life experienced what it was like to date. Experienced the hunt of looking for a guy and spotting those little looks the opposite sex gives you when their interested. What is this look? It's the eye of the tiger. It's that death stare that says, "Yeah you're hot. Wanna practice making a baby?"
So after getting divorced from my ex, I had no clue what the hell to do. I didn't know how to flirt or to even show a guy that I was interested. My "eye of the tiger" stare looked more like that psycho stalker crazy fan stare that those little girls have when they look at Justin Bieber. You know, that wild eye'd I think I'm sexy but look like a damn crack head type of look. Yeah, I was in bad shape.
And this brings me to the fabulous freakshow world of the online dating scene. I quickly fine tuned my funny girl routine, but getting them to give me a chance in order to use this routine has always been my problem. It wasn't until recently that I think I might have cracked the mystery of the fine art of flirting that had always eluded me. What is this mystery? How can one flirt when one has never flirted before? Easy there tiger, easy, I'll tell you just hold your horses. Let me tell you how I stumbled upon this bit of knowledge. HOLY HELL! Hurry it up blogger I'm missing Glee and X factor! OK OK! I'll hurry up I promise.
So, I went with a few coworker to our normal watering hole and was feeling abnormally confident. I was suppose to meet a guy that I had spoken to briefly online and let me tell you. I'm glad I was there with some coworkers that I can now call friends, because that guy looked nothing like his pictures. (I'll make this a different post). It didn't go well, but the whole time I saw another coworker that was fairly new to my department, making eye contact. Now, I didn't know if he was giving me the "eye of the tiger", but I figured why the hell not go for it. I could not get rid of that other guy, we'll call him the False Advertiser, fast enough. As soon as he left I made my move on this young whipper snaper. I asked him if he wanted to play pool and he agreed with a huge smile on his face. I smiled back and asked if I could go outside and have a cigarette first. We went outside and talked for a bit and I was surprisingly charming. I didn't feel the need to fall back on my smart ass funny girl routine. I don't know why, maybe it was the beer? Anyhoo! I smiled and complimented him and made an effort to touch him ever so softly here and there. I know how cliche this may sound, but it freakin' worked! As we were playing pool, I could tell he was nervous as hell. He kept hitting the cue ball off the table and dropping his pool stick. At first I thought he was drunk, but he later admitted that I was "distracting" him. When I asked how, he just smiled. The rest of the night I continued to do the same routine. Smile and compliment. Since then...he's been sneaking looks and still gets nervous when I get close to him. It's adorable.
I don't know if it's different for guys when they flirt, but I think I nailed it. Could it be that simple, kiddos? When flirting with a guy just smile and compliment him? Shit! If it is, what the hell took me so long to figure this out? Hopefully, after almost five years of looking like a complete crazy psycho idiot trying desperately to flirt, I may have figured it out. Who would have thought that the simplest thing would work?
So what's the hell is the moral of this story blogger? It just seems a little pointless. The moral? Don't get freakin' frustrated when you can't figure out what the hell flirting is. Remember this thingy here "KISS". What? Are you freaking kidding me? What the hell does that mean? Keep It Simple Stupid. Flirting is suppose to be easy. Don't try and church it up with the hair flips and whatever else you think you're suppose to do. Keep it simple...stupid.
So, like I said in a previous post, I wasted my formative flirting years being married. I married very young, at 20, like an idiot. Why in the hell would you do that you dumb girl? Well, I was about to tell you before I was so rudely interrupted.
All through school I was not really the popular kid. I wasn't the type to follow the crowd in order to be cool and it didn't help that my parents had a tight leash on me. So tight that one could call it a choke collar. When most teenagers are having their first signatificant others (in middle school), I could not get a boy to even think I was pretty. My mother worked at the middle school I went to and my father worked at the elementary school across the street from the high school I went to. With all those factors, I might as well have had malaria or a flesh eating virus. No boy would even stand within a 5 mile radius of me for fear of my parents (more so my father) thinking they liked me. Granted, I did have male friends, but they saw me as one of the guys. Because of this, I feel, I quickly developed my smart ass funny girl routine that I now fall back on so much. Let's put it this way...my senior year of high school most girls worry about what guy is going to ask them to prom, right? I already knew I wasn't going to get asked. Most of the guys I went to school with couldn't imagine me in a dress and getting all foofy-ed up. No, I wasn't butch or walked around like a had a huge dick in my jeans. I was just very blunt and not the type of girly girl that most guys at that age (well, at any age) wanted.
Wah wah wah! What is this? A pitty blog? A lets feel sorry for the poor blogger who couldn't get a boy to like her. Uh...no. I'm merely giving you back story to my lack of flirting so shut the hell up so you can get back to your turkey overdose.
Well, fast forward to me graduating highschool and working at my first job at a department store and going to college. Until then, I never thought a guy would look my way let alone ask me out. Enter my ex husband. He was the first boy that ever really paid attention to me in that way a guy does when he wants to be more than just your friend. Needless to say, being the dumbass I am. I ended up marrying him at 20. I spent my early 20's being a married woman who had never in her life experienced what it was like to date. Experienced the hunt of looking for a guy and spotting those little looks the opposite sex gives you when their interested. What is this look? It's the eye of the tiger. It's that death stare that says, "Yeah you're hot. Wanna practice making a baby?"
So after getting divorced from my ex, I had no clue what the hell to do. I didn't know how to flirt or to even show a guy that I was interested. My "eye of the tiger" stare looked more like that psycho stalker crazy fan stare that those little girls have when they look at Justin Bieber. You know, that wild eye'd I think I'm sexy but look like a damn crack head type of look. Yeah, I was in bad shape.
And this brings me to the fabulous freakshow world of the online dating scene. I quickly fine tuned my funny girl routine, but getting them to give me a chance in order to use this routine has always been my problem. It wasn't until recently that I think I might have cracked the mystery of the fine art of flirting that had always eluded me. What is this mystery? How can one flirt when one has never flirted before? Easy there tiger, easy, I'll tell you just hold your horses. Let me tell you how I stumbled upon this bit of knowledge. HOLY HELL! Hurry it up blogger I'm missing Glee and X factor! OK OK! I'll hurry up I promise.
So, I went with a few coworker to our normal watering hole and was feeling abnormally confident. I was suppose to meet a guy that I had spoken to briefly online and let me tell you. I'm glad I was there with some coworkers that I can now call friends, because that guy looked nothing like his pictures. (I'll make this a different post). It didn't go well, but the whole time I saw another coworker that was fairly new to my department, making eye contact. Now, I didn't know if he was giving me the "eye of the tiger", but I figured why the hell not go for it. I could not get rid of that other guy, we'll call him the False Advertiser, fast enough. As soon as he left I made my move on this young whipper snaper. I asked him if he wanted to play pool and he agreed with a huge smile on his face. I smiled back and asked if I could go outside and have a cigarette first. We went outside and talked for a bit and I was surprisingly charming. I didn't feel the need to fall back on my smart ass funny girl routine. I don't know why, maybe it was the beer? Anyhoo! I smiled and complimented him and made an effort to touch him ever so softly here and there. I know how cliche this may sound, but it freakin' worked! As we were playing pool, I could tell he was nervous as hell. He kept hitting the cue ball off the table and dropping his pool stick. At first I thought he was drunk, but he later admitted that I was "distracting" him. When I asked how, he just smiled. The rest of the night I continued to do the same routine. Smile and compliment. Since then...he's been sneaking looks and still gets nervous when I get close to him. It's adorable.
I don't know if it's different for guys when they flirt, but I think I nailed it. Could it be that simple, kiddos? When flirting with a guy just smile and compliment him? Shit! If it is, what the hell took me so long to figure this out? Hopefully, after almost five years of looking like a complete crazy psycho idiot trying desperately to flirt, I may have figured it out. Who would have thought that the simplest thing would work?
So what's the hell is the moral of this story blogger? It just seems a little pointless. The moral? Don't get freakin' frustrated when you can't figure out what the hell flirting is. Remember this thingy here "KISS". What? Are you freaking kidding me? What the hell does that mean? Keep It Simple Stupid. Flirting is suppose to be easy. Don't try and church it up with the hair flips and whatever else you think you're suppose to do. Keep it simple...stupid.
Tuesday, November 20, 2012
Shoulda, Woulda, Couldas and Cocked Blocked by Steven Colbert
I guess I should start by what brought on this blog post. Well, I was talking to an ex that is now a friend (I guess that's what he is, quite frankly I'm not too sure what the hell to label what this relationship is) and we started talking about why couldn't we have conversations like we were having while we were "together". Eventually we got to the point in the conversation where each person starts to talk about what they should have or could have done to make things different. Like I've said in a previous post, hind site is always such a bitch.
Ok, a little bit of a back story about this poor shmuck that came across my path. He was my first ginger. Yes, boys and girls, I dated a ginger. Oh my word, blogger! Do you still have your soul? Did he work his voodoo ginger magic on your poor pathetic brain?! Uh...no? I don't think so. I believe I still have my soul, at least I hope I do. Is there a way that you can test if your soul is still with you? You know, like a pregnacy test but instead of testing for babies, you're testing for souls? Does that last comment make me get a one way ticket to hell? Oh well, if I'm going to hell then I'm going to go in a hand basket, damn it! Oh sorry! Back to the story.
So, we met of course online and had a good connection, blah blah blah. You should know the drill by now. We met at my fail safe first date place (coffee chain) and had a good time. So good that I thought it would be a swell idea to go for a drive so we could chat some more. We did. We drove around and talked about everything from music to more deeper topics. This guy even liked rockabilly music! He even wore a pair of creepers to our first outing. Now looky here, chickadees and duders, you don't understand how long I had waited for a guy to be interested in these things. Until then I had to explain to guys what rockabilly was and even who Bettie Paige was. If I wore red lipstick and winged eyeliner most guys thought I was a chola dressing up for Christmas. This Ginger's idea of beauty was exactly what mine was. The great women of the 40's and 50's. The undeniably sexy Vargas girls, the great pin ups. Holy hell, I'm sounding like a lesbian. Anyhoo! We had a lot of crap in common. *Like what, blogger? You're fondness for women? haha! Very funny wise guy, just keep reading the freakin story.* I was so excited about this guy seeing how I hadn't had a conversation like that since Tony the Tiger. At the end of the date this Ginger looked at me and asked, "hey do you want to date?" I was shocked and excited. Why? Because this guy wasn't afraid to jump in head first without fear of the possible consequences. This was very refreshing and comforting seeing how I thought I was the only one that wasn't afraid to jump in head first.
Fast forward a couple of weeks and we were already settling into a routine. After work I would go to his place and he would cook (no, not spaghetti or hamburger helper, he's a chef. No, not a fast food, jack in the crack chef. A good chef, a brilliant one in fact). After dinner we would hang out and do...well, grown up things. By the end of week two, I thought it a good idea to it would be a good idea to invite my Ginger to an outing with some coworkers for drinks after work. We went and had a blast. We had a few drinks, shot some pool and darts and he seemed to be charming the pants off my coworkers. On one of our trips outside to have a smoke I could tell he wanted to tell me something. Now, I knew this wasn't going to be anything bad, but I had a feeling it was something big. By big, I mean the "L" bomb. How did I get this feeling from him? I guess, it was the way he was looking at me, but I kept telling myself that this was waaaaaaaaaaaaay too soon for him to be thinking this. Naturally I brushed this feeling aside and we continued on with our night. After a night filled with awesomeness, we went back to his place where I was going to stay. Now, I don't know how this conversation got brought up, but he ended up saying something to effect of "I almost dropped the 'L' bomb on you tonight". I knew that he was trying to get me to say it first, but I wasn't quite sure I wasn't ready to say something of this magnitude. I mean this is a huge thing. Once you say something, you can't take it back. After about ten minutes of us going back and forth he finally said it.
Oh my gosh blogger how did he say it? Was it romantic? Wait! Hasn't it only been two weeks? Please don't tell me you said it back.
Alrighty kiddos, are you ready? This is how he told me he loved me..."ok fine I'll say it. I love you, dumbass". Your balloon deflated yet? I know mine was and this kiddies, should have been my second red flag. The first? The fact he got so caught up in the moment he said I love you after two weeks. Did I say it back? Well, what do you think?
Like I said earlier, we settled into a routine and that was fine...for the first two weeks. Eventually I started to feel like we were that old wrinkley married couple that do the same thing over and over and over again. Not those cute old married couples that you hope to be like one day, but those boring ones that when they look at you, it's like they're begging you to kill them. The ones that have that look of desperation on their face for anyone to put them out of their misery and to do so quickly. We tried to fix it or so we thought, but now looking back it was all talk. We were so good at blowing smoke each others asses that we didn't see that we were both too stubborn to actually do what we said we were going to do.
Now kiddos, lesson number whatever, more pearls are about to be thrown your way. Are you paying attention? Here we go. One should take a break from dating when needed. Why? Because if you don't, you end up bringing in baggage from past relationships even when you think you're over it. What was ours? We both had bent over backwards so much in our last relationships that we were determinded not to ever bend again. In doing so we ended up ruining this relationship.
We were both quickly getting frustrated with this routine and were too busy arguing over how to fix it and pointing the finger at each other that nothing ever came into fruition. Now here comes the breaking point. It's about damn time blogger. You're blogs are becoming more and more long winded. Hush you, keep quiet so I wrap this bitch up! We were at his house again, this time determinded to break the monotony that had become our hang outs. We didn't, we did the same thing, but this time when I tried to do the dirty with my man, he was distracted. Before then, we had been watching Steven Colbert and I thought he was started to get into the mood. He was participating in these grown up activities when suddenly that prick, Steven Colbert, said something that sent my Ginger into a laughing attack. Mid make out and heavy petting session he had been distracted by the witty comments of that asshole Steven Colbert. Yes, my youngins, I had just been cock blocked by Steven Colbert.
After being blocked by Steven Colbert, I knew we had hit our low point and there was no coming back from that. We broke up and until our recent conversation had never looked back. Onto the moral of this story! Don't wait until it's too late to do the things you should be doing. Do them when you need to in order to avoid regrets later and for God's sake...if you're trying to get down and dirty with your partner, make sure Steven Colbert isn't on the t.v.
Ok, a little bit of a back story about this poor shmuck that came across my path. He was my first ginger. Yes, boys and girls, I dated a ginger. Oh my word, blogger! Do you still have your soul? Did he work his voodoo ginger magic on your poor pathetic brain?! Uh...no? I don't think so. I believe I still have my soul, at least I hope I do. Is there a way that you can test if your soul is still with you? You know, like a pregnacy test but instead of testing for babies, you're testing for souls? Does that last comment make me get a one way ticket to hell? Oh well, if I'm going to hell then I'm going to go in a hand basket, damn it! Oh sorry! Back to the story.
So, we met of course online and had a good connection, blah blah blah. You should know the drill by now. We met at my fail safe first date place (coffee chain) and had a good time. So good that I thought it would be a swell idea to go for a drive so we could chat some more. We did. We drove around and talked about everything from music to more deeper topics. This guy even liked rockabilly music! He even wore a pair of creepers to our first outing. Now looky here, chickadees and duders, you don't understand how long I had waited for a guy to be interested in these things. Until then I had to explain to guys what rockabilly was and even who Bettie Paige was. If I wore red lipstick and winged eyeliner most guys thought I was a chola dressing up for Christmas. This Ginger's idea of beauty was exactly what mine was. The great women of the 40's and 50's. The undeniably sexy Vargas girls, the great pin ups. Holy hell, I'm sounding like a lesbian. Anyhoo! We had a lot of crap in common. *Like what, blogger? You're fondness for women? haha! Very funny wise guy, just keep reading the freakin story.* I was so excited about this guy seeing how I hadn't had a conversation like that since Tony the Tiger. At the end of the date this Ginger looked at me and asked, "hey do you want to date?" I was shocked and excited. Why? Because this guy wasn't afraid to jump in head first without fear of the possible consequences. This was very refreshing and comforting seeing how I thought I was the only one that wasn't afraid to jump in head first.
Fast forward a couple of weeks and we were already settling into a routine. After work I would go to his place and he would cook (no, not spaghetti or hamburger helper, he's a chef. No, not a fast food, jack in the crack chef. A good chef, a brilliant one in fact). After dinner we would hang out and do...well, grown up things. By the end of week two, I thought it a good idea to it would be a good idea to invite my Ginger to an outing with some coworkers for drinks after work. We went and had a blast. We had a few drinks, shot some pool and darts and he seemed to be charming the pants off my coworkers. On one of our trips outside to have a smoke I could tell he wanted to tell me something. Now, I knew this wasn't going to be anything bad, but I had a feeling it was something big. By big, I mean the "L" bomb. How did I get this feeling from him? I guess, it was the way he was looking at me, but I kept telling myself that this was waaaaaaaaaaaaay too soon for him to be thinking this. Naturally I brushed this feeling aside and we continued on with our night. After a night filled with awesomeness, we went back to his place where I was going to stay. Now, I don't know how this conversation got brought up, but he ended up saying something to effect of "I almost dropped the 'L' bomb on you tonight". I knew that he was trying to get me to say it first, but I wasn't quite sure I wasn't ready to say something of this magnitude. I mean this is a huge thing. Once you say something, you can't take it back. After about ten minutes of us going back and forth he finally said it.
Oh my gosh blogger how did he say it? Was it romantic? Wait! Hasn't it only been two weeks? Please don't tell me you said it back.
Alrighty kiddos, are you ready? This is how he told me he loved me..."ok fine I'll say it. I love you, dumbass". Your balloon deflated yet? I know mine was and this kiddies, should have been my second red flag. The first? The fact he got so caught up in the moment he said I love you after two weeks. Did I say it back? Well, what do you think?
Like I said earlier, we settled into a routine and that was fine...for the first two weeks. Eventually I started to feel like we were that old wrinkley married couple that do the same thing over and over and over again. Not those cute old married couples that you hope to be like one day, but those boring ones that when they look at you, it's like they're begging you to kill them. The ones that have that look of desperation on their face for anyone to put them out of their misery and to do so quickly. We tried to fix it or so we thought, but now looking back it was all talk. We were so good at blowing smoke each others asses that we didn't see that we were both too stubborn to actually do what we said we were going to do.
Now kiddos, lesson number whatever, more pearls are about to be thrown your way. Are you paying attention? Here we go. One should take a break from dating when needed. Why? Because if you don't, you end up bringing in baggage from past relationships even when you think you're over it. What was ours? We both had bent over backwards so much in our last relationships that we were determinded not to ever bend again. In doing so we ended up ruining this relationship.
We were both quickly getting frustrated with this routine and were too busy arguing over how to fix it and pointing the finger at each other that nothing ever came into fruition. Now here comes the breaking point. It's about damn time blogger. You're blogs are becoming more and more long winded. Hush you, keep quiet so I wrap this bitch up! We were at his house again, this time determinded to break the monotony that had become our hang outs. We didn't, we did the same thing, but this time when I tried to do the dirty with my man, he was distracted. Before then, we had been watching Steven Colbert and I thought he was started to get into the mood. He was participating in these grown up activities when suddenly that prick, Steven Colbert, said something that sent my Ginger into a laughing attack. Mid make out and heavy petting session he had been distracted by the witty comments of that asshole Steven Colbert. Yes, my youngins, I had just been cock blocked by Steven Colbert.
After being blocked by Steven Colbert, I knew we had hit our low point and there was no coming back from that. We broke up and until our recent conversation had never looked back. Onto the moral of this story! Don't wait until it's too late to do the things you should be doing. Do them when you need to in order to avoid regrets later and for God's sake...if you're trying to get down and dirty with your partner, make sure Steven Colbert isn't on the t.v.
Tuesday, November 13, 2012
To join our not to join?
Like all things in life, everything had its pros and it's cons. When it's comes to deciding on whether or not to join a dating website it's always good to get to the root of the reason why you want to join. But blogger, isn't it obvious why I want to join? To get dates, duh! Well for most people the reasons go a little deeper than that whether they want to admit or not.
Reason #1
Not enough dating experience.
This, young grasshoppers, was my reason. I, like a dumbass, got married at 20. Yes, stupid I know, you don't have to rub it in. I married my first real boyfriend and wasted my formative flirting learning years. So after four years of being married, I was completely clueless on how to date and how to flirt. This is how I got sucked into the black abyss of online dating.
Reason #2
I want to find my soul mate.
I simply loathe this reason. People who feel this way normally join eharmoney. I'm not saying this is the wrong reason to join, just be a little realistic. Most people joining, mainly guys, join to find desperate people who will put out. Thus, bringing us to our final reason
Reason #3
To get booty
You'll find that 75% of people on these sites just want sex. Which quite frankly, I wish they would stay on Craig's list for that bullshit. Let's face it there are a lot of desperate lonely people on these sites that are looking for love. It's unfortunate that dating sites get polluted by these douches that promise the moon and the stars and all they want is nookie.
So what's my lesson for this blog post. Be honest with yourself on why you want to join and go into it with eyes wide open. Don't be naive in thinking that is going to different because you paid for your subscription. Because if people are still willing to pay for porn when there's loads out there for free, why wouldn't they pay a dating website to get laid?
Reason #1
Not enough dating experience.
This, young grasshoppers, was my reason. I, like a dumbass, got married at 20. Yes, stupid I know, you don't have to rub it in. I married my first real boyfriend and wasted my formative flirting learning years. So after four years of being married, I was completely clueless on how to date and how to flirt. This is how I got sucked into the black abyss of online dating.
Reason #2
I want to find my soul mate.
I simply loathe this reason. People who feel this way normally join eharmoney. I'm not saying this is the wrong reason to join, just be a little realistic. Most people joining, mainly guys, join to find desperate people who will put out. Thus, bringing us to our final reason
Reason #3
To get booty
You'll find that 75% of people on these sites just want sex. Which quite frankly, I wish they would stay on Craig's list for that bullshit. Let's face it there are a lot of desperate lonely people on these sites that are looking for love. It's unfortunate that dating sites get polluted by these douches that promise the moon and the stars and all they want is nookie.
So what's my lesson for this blog post. Be honest with yourself on why you want to join and go into it with eyes wide open. Don't be naive in thinking that is going to different because you paid for your subscription. Because if people are still willing to pay for porn when there's loads out there for free, why wouldn't they pay a dating website to get laid?
Fool me once, shame on me. Fool me twice, I'm a dumb mutha fucka (Good Time Charlies)
I'd ask for forgiveness for my cussing in the title, but I figure we're all adults here right? Plus there wasn't a better way for me to sum up the jist of tonights blog post. So chickadees and duders, we're going to discuss the characteristics of a Good Time Charlie and how to keep yourself from falling victim to their charms.
In the online dating world you'll come across these smooth talking bastards that completely sweep you off your feet with fun times and the promise of a good connection. They are the comedic wolf in sheeps clothing, the mirage in the desert that promises a cool drink of Fiji water, only to find out the closer you get it's only Arrowhead water. Now, these people do serve their purpose when approached correctly. For the most part if you're only looking to have fun and live in the moment without the promise of any kind of future, or definite plans (or the option to make ANY plans with them for that matter) then by all means, go have fun. I don't necessarily think these "Good Time Charlies" are intentionally bad people. They just don't have the capacity to look for long term, they don't tend to think at all for that matter. Because of this "live in the moment" attitude you'll always feel like you're on cloud nine. Like you're feet never touch the ground when you're around them. Don't confuse Good Time Charlies for the Tony the Tigers (flakes,get it? frosted flakes? nevermind) of the online dating scene. Granted the Tony the Tiger I spoke of in my last post is a combination of the two, a deadly combination I may add, but that's another post and another set of rules. Good Time Charlies are very deceivingly charming and have no clue that they are this way. GTC's are everyone's krypontite, everyone's cookie to their cookie monster. Needless to say GTC's are naturally smooth talkers and can keep you coming back for more. Eventually, one will feel like a sick son of a bitch masochist lost in a S&M wonderland in bikini bottom. Granted, yes, this can be a very fun situation...if you don't start to have any feelings for them. That's where the tight rope walk begins, my precious. It's always so easy to fall for one of these GTC's.
You might be asking...well, how do I not become a paltry victim of the GTC? Tell me blogger! I do not wish to become another notch in their belt!! Puhhhllleeassee! OK, maybe you don't sound that desperate for this little gold tid bit of knowledge, but I'll tell you how with three easy rules. Cue the infomercial music!
1.Find something you find completely disgusting or just very...very....very unattractive about them and focus in on it.
You know that mole that's on their cheek that you never really paid attention to because you were too focused on the sweet nothings they were whispering in your ear? Focus on it. Look at that one gross witch hair that's starting to grow out of it. You know what they say? As people get older they get more moles and if they already have one their cheek, eventually they'll get them all over their face. To the point where their face has now become one big mole with a witch hair coming out of it. Ok "they" don't say that, but you get my drift.
2. Never, EVER kiss them.
Once your lips touches theirs...you're screwed,blued, but without the cool tattoo. Their kiss is the equivalent of what Poison Ivy's kiss should have done to that asshat Robin in the batman movie with Uma Thurman.
3. Take everything they say with a grain of salt.
Now, most Good Time Charlies have Tony the Tiger tendencies. So, if they say they'll see you on Saturday, don't keep your schedule cleared for them. Keep playing the field because more than likey they're doing the same.
Holy hell, blogger! What the hell crawled up your butt today? Why so harsh on the Good Time Charlies? Well, I'm not trying to be harsh. Just completely honest, my lovelies. So what if a GTC Tony the Tiger kinda hurt me a little bit? That has nothing to do with me venting today. This is merely a blogpost warning my zero readers of the possible dangers of the GTC's. They are not malicious people. I REPEAT, I'M NOT SAYING THEY ARE MALICIOUS PEOPLE. Just blissfully ignorant to the power they clutch in their adorable little panda bear paw. Uh...why do they have panda bear paws? Because Panda's are freaking adorable, that last sentence didn't have to make sense, ok?!
Anyhoo, chickadee's and duders, the lesson for tonight beware of the Good Time Charlie. Do as their name suggest, have a good time and don't get emotionally invested. Otherwise you'll end up blogging about them in your forever lazy wanting to punch yourelf in the weiner or in my case my ovary for getting emotionally attached. Do as the wise Ronnie from the Jersey Shore said, "Never fall in love at the Jersey Shore". Just put the Good Time Charlie in place of the Jersey Shore? Whatever! You know what I mean. Until next time, kiddos!
In the online dating world you'll come across these smooth talking bastards that completely sweep you off your feet with fun times and the promise of a good connection. They are the comedic wolf in sheeps clothing, the mirage in the desert that promises a cool drink of Fiji water, only to find out the closer you get it's only Arrowhead water. Now, these people do serve their purpose when approached correctly. For the most part if you're only looking to have fun and live in the moment without the promise of any kind of future, or definite plans (or the option to make ANY plans with them for that matter) then by all means, go have fun. I don't necessarily think these "Good Time Charlies" are intentionally bad people. They just don't have the capacity to look for long term, they don't tend to think at all for that matter. Because of this "live in the moment" attitude you'll always feel like you're on cloud nine. Like you're feet never touch the ground when you're around them. Don't confuse Good Time Charlies for the Tony the Tigers (flakes,get it? frosted flakes? nevermind) of the online dating scene. Granted the Tony the Tiger I spoke of in my last post is a combination of the two, a deadly combination I may add, but that's another post and another set of rules. Good Time Charlies are very deceivingly charming and have no clue that they are this way. GTC's are everyone's krypontite, everyone's cookie to their cookie monster. Needless to say GTC's are naturally smooth talkers and can keep you coming back for more. Eventually, one will feel like a sick son of a bitch masochist lost in a S&M wonderland in bikini bottom. Granted, yes, this can be a very fun situation...if you don't start to have any feelings for them. That's where the tight rope walk begins, my precious. It's always so easy to fall for one of these GTC's.
You might be asking...well, how do I not become a paltry victim of the GTC? Tell me blogger! I do not wish to become another notch in their belt!! Puhhhllleeassee! OK, maybe you don't sound that desperate for this little gold tid bit of knowledge, but I'll tell you how with three easy rules. Cue the infomercial music!
1.Find something you find completely disgusting or just very...very....very unattractive about them and focus in on it.
You know that mole that's on their cheek that you never really paid attention to because you were too focused on the sweet nothings they were whispering in your ear? Focus on it. Look at that one gross witch hair that's starting to grow out of it. You know what they say? As people get older they get more moles and if they already have one their cheek, eventually they'll get them all over their face. To the point where their face has now become one big mole with a witch hair coming out of it. Ok "they" don't say that, but you get my drift.
2. Never, EVER kiss them.
Once your lips touches theirs...you're screwed,blued, but without the cool tattoo. Their kiss is the equivalent of what Poison Ivy's kiss should have done to that asshat Robin in the batman movie with Uma Thurman.
3. Take everything they say with a grain of salt.
Now, most Good Time Charlies have Tony the Tiger tendencies. So, if they say they'll see you on Saturday, don't keep your schedule cleared for them. Keep playing the field because more than likey they're doing the same.
Holy hell, blogger! What the hell crawled up your butt today? Why so harsh on the Good Time Charlies? Well, I'm not trying to be harsh. Just completely honest, my lovelies. So what if a GTC Tony the Tiger kinda hurt me a little bit? That has nothing to do with me venting today. This is merely a blogpost warning my zero readers of the possible dangers of the GTC's. They are not malicious people. I REPEAT, I'M NOT SAYING THEY ARE MALICIOUS PEOPLE. Just blissfully ignorant to the power they clutch in their adorable little panda bear paw. Uh...why do they have panda bear paws? Because Panda's are freaking adorable, that last sentence didn't have to make sense, ok?!
Anyhoo, chickadee's and duders, the lesson for tonight beware of the Good Time Charlie. Do as their name suggest, have a good time and don't get emotionally invested. Otherwise you'll end up blogging about them in your forever lazy wanting to punch yourelf in the weiner or in my case my ovary for getting emotionally attached. Do as the wise Ronnie from the Jersey Shore said, "Never fall in love at the Jersey Shore". Just put the Good Time Charlie in place of the Jersey Shore? Whatever! You know what I mean. Until next time, kiddos!
Saturday, November 10, 2012
The Ever Lovable Tony the Tiger (flakes)
Now, I'm still struggling with if I want to even publish this post considering the man I'm about to talk about is still very much in my life. I think he knows that I'm going to write about him and secretly he's preparing himself for what he thinks is going to be a complete verbal ass whooping on him, because now he does read my blog. Little does he know that ,yes, our story thus far is not the best, but I still very much keep him in high regard. He's still very much the little love letter I carry with me (a cookie to who ever knows what song that came from). He is the closest that has ever come to me finding my kindred spirit. I guess, that's why I've been going back and forth with this next blog post my young kudasais. Despite my hesitation with this issue, I guess you all figured what my decision was. After all, I am on here giving a very rambled introduction of what this post is going to be about. Enough said, on to the story.
I should have known that Tony the Tiger (this is what I'm going to call him) was a flake from the start. We met on an online dating website. Do I really need to say where I meet these guys? I think from here on out I'm just going to assume you will know where I meet these guys. OK, focus, back to the story. We did the usual. Exchanged emails back and forth and eventually exchanged phone numbers. We had an amazing conversation that I still think about from time to time. I know what you're thinking. But you always say you have great conversations with these guys. What makes this one different? Well, I was actually myself when talking to him. I could be full on dork goof ball and he didn't seem to mind. He enjoyed it actually, which to me, was a pleasant surprise. He did funny voices and accents that made me laugh so hard my stomach was sore as well as my face. The entire conversation was amusing, to say the least, and I felt that someone welcomed my sense of humor (seeing that his was similar to mine). After talking on the phone for about four hours, we finally called it a night, but not before making plans to meet. Nothing out of the ordinary, right? Not quite. I didn't hear from him afterwards. Not even on the day of our meet up. I called him that day and asked him if we were even still going to meet up and this is where his version of the story and mine differ. I clearly remember getting ready and thinking to myself that this was going to be incredibly awkward, seeing how we haven't spoken to each other since that night. I was no longer sure if I wanted to waste my time shaving my legs for this date. I, of course, not wanting to waste another good razor on a possible Charming Houdini Copperfield called him and asked if this was even a good idea. He sounded, to me, a little relieved that I wasn't too keen on the idea of meeting him anymore. We decided not to meet. We kept in touch here and there via facebook, but never had another phone conversation.
Fast forward to a year or two later. Like I said, we kept in touch very little through facebook, but nothing like that first conversation we had that night until he posted something on facebook asking if anyone knew of places that were hiring. No, he wasn't a jobless hack, he was merely looking for a change. I, at the time, was working at an auto auction company that was hiring. This was my excuse to get in touch with him again and it worked. I told him I would call him after work to give him the details of what I did. All through my work day I was a bit nervous. I wondered if this conversation would be strictly business and cold or would it be like it was that night? The time could not go by fast enough. The day dragged, like that old pervy man's dog legs from Family guy. At 5 o'clock I rushed out to my car and called Tony the Tiger. I nervously counted the rings on the other end until he answered.
The start of the conversation was curtious. Filled with the obligatory, how have you been? I've been good. So, what's new? After that, I gave him the details about the job and then...it was continued with the familiar banter I had missed since that night. We talked for a couple of hours. About what? I don't even remember. All I remember is feeling like, I hope he sticks around this time.
We continued to have wonderful conversations by phone and skype. Remember I had never met this guy before and the closest we had ever come to meeting each other was chatting through webcams. He was completely handsome. I knew the first time seeing him on my computer screen (how lame is this) I was a goner. His smile was completely captivating. The first night of skype chatting was awesome. We skyped until the wee hours of the morning. Eventually we decide to meet and actually did.
The first meeting went better than I had hoped. It didn't last as long as I would have liked seeing he had plans with his nephew, but it was good. After a few meet ups and more chatting, we ended up dating. All of this probably makes you think that it should be all good in the hood. But as time went on his flakey-ness came through. It all started the night I tried to define the relationship, which should have been a huge red flag for me. Hind site is always such a bitch.
We had been hanging out almost every other day for a while and I knew we were on the same page emotionally. One day, I was asked out by some random guy and I had already turned him down because I was really swooning over Tony the Tiger, but this gave me the just cause to define the relationship. That night, I was going to bring it up. I, of course, was shitting bricks. I didn't want to scare him off, but I thought it was about time to have this conversation. So...I brought it up. I didn't get the response I was looking for. He stared at me blankly for what seemed like forever and just when I was about to throw my hands up in the air and give up, he responded. What did he respond with? I'm sorry but I told you I was emotionally retarded. Which, yes, he did, but come on! You have this girl you're clearly into in front of you telling you that she got asked out by another dude, but doesn't want to go because she'd rather be with you! This should have been my que to book it the hell out this situation, but like a complete idiot I stayed.
Now, ladies, listen up. Another situation where I'm going to hand you some pearls. If a guys tells you something like, I'm emotionally stunted or I just don't know what I want or I don't want a girlfriend, I just want to have fun, listen to him! He's not lying or trying to play hard to get. He's telling you the truth, listen to him, believe him and run.
Eventually it got to the point where we were hanging out once a week if that and only for a couple of hours because he had to go to work the next day. I rarely saw him on his day off and if we made plans, something would come up and said plans would fall through. I confronted him about it and also about him not being affectionate whatsoever. It started to feel like I was hanging out with a good buddy instead of a significant other. He said he would try, which would only last a couple of hours then things would go back to the way they were before. I couldn't understand how someone who understood me completely, could be so distant and flakey.
OK enough with the back story. I bet you want to know what was my breaking point. Well, after numerous excuses as to why we couldn't hang out, he eventually had a weekend off. Which was like hell freezing over for him because having a weekend off didn't come around often. My bestie came down from Austin and we had planned to meet at a bar. I invited Tony the Tiger and he agreed to go with us. I waited around for him, wondering what the hell was going on seeing how it was getting later and later. I was at the point where I just wanted him to hurry up and call me to let me know he was going to flake out on me yet again. He didn't and he finally made his way to my house close to ten and I felt horrible that I had kept my friend from Austin waiting all this time. We eventually made it to the bar and were starting to have a good time. So good of a time that I forgot about how late he had been getting to my place and that he kept my bestie waiting so long. Now, Tony the Tiger has since stopped trying to be affectionate and I was making my peace with that untill... some random bitch came up and asked if I could introduce them. I told her that him and I were together and she laughed. She proceeded to tell me that she was sorry, but she didn't think we were together because our body language said otherwise. I knew exactly what she meant. I tried as hard as I could not to knock her out for being such a bitch and succeeded in not becoming violent. Needless to say, I was embarrassed and upset that no one could tell we were a couple. Like we needed a huge neon sign saying it because there was no way in hell you could what we were to each other. Stubbornly he refused to show any sort of affection to me and now I was paying the price by having some random drunk hookers ask about him. Now, kiddos, I was not asking this man to be all over me, but...shit! At least hold my hand, give little touches here and there.
After getting to my house, where his car was, I asked him to text me when he got home and of course he said he wouldn't. He said this in a joking fashion as if I would be fooled into thinking that he would, but I knew better. He took this as me telling him what to do, which is not the case. The next day, we spoke and he told me of plans he made with his friends to go kayaking and of course those plans he didn't flake out which sent me reeling. I was completely flabergasted at how he could keep plans with them but not with me. Like I was just someone he hung out with when there was nothing better to do. So...I broke up with him. I had-had enough. We didn't speak to each other for a couple of days. Then he texted.
What did he text? Come on blogger! What the hell did he text you? Did he appologize and you two made up and now live happily ever after? Sadly, no. Sorry kiddos, but this story doesn't have the cliche happy ending. He texted something about sweater vests, acting like nothing had ever happened. Completely dismissing what had happened just a couple of days before. This led to another event of me being absolutely livid. In a nutshell I told him to go kick rocks and that to go watch something on elephants and whales because that was the only time he wasn't emotionally retarded. (for some reason he only showed any hint of "girly" emotion when watching documentaries on elephants and whales. He's an odd bird) And that was that. We didn't talk for a while after that.
So, you might be wondering how he is still in my life? Well, I missed him. Not just him but his friendship and contacted him. We've since had a heart to heart and I guess things are ok now. We've hung out a couple of times, but I try not to put too much stock into it and until recently have done good at not feeling like I want to try something with him again.
Wait! What? What happened recently that makes you want to try things again?
I took him out for his unbirthday and had a wonderful time. Made me wish that he wasn't such a flake, then...I kissed him. I know, I know. What the hell are you thinking? Where is this going to go now? Truth, is...I don't know. I don't even know what's going to happen when he reads this (because his curiousity is going to get the better of him). I bet you're thinking that this is my "hail mary" pass to him, but it's not. I've learned my lesson with Tony the Tiger. There's no point in chasing after a flake or hoping that they'll change. No one is going to change unless they want to. If he wants me, he knows where to find me. So, my young whipper snappers, don't go chasing after flakes. You'll only end up confused, frustrated and upset. If someone tells you they're a certain way, listen to them. Nine times out of ten, they're telling the truth.
I should have known that Tony the Tiger (this is what I'm going to call him) was a flake from the start. We met on an online dating website. Do I really need to say where I meet these guys? I think from here on out I'm just going to assume you will know where I meet these guys. OK, focus, back to the story. We did the usual. Exchanged emails back and forth and eventually exchanged phone numbers. We had an amazing conversation that I still think about from time to time. I know what you're thinking. But you always say you have great conversations with these guys. What makes this one different? Well, I was actually myself when talking to him. I could be full on dork goof ball and he didn't seem to mind. He enjoyed it actually, which to me, was a pleasant surprise. He did funny voices and accents that made me laugh so hard my stomach was sore as well as my face. The entire conversation was amusing, to say the least, and I felt that someone welcomed my sense of humor (seeing that his was similar to mine). After talking on the phone for about four hours, we finally called it a night, but not before making plans to meet. Nothing out of the ordinary, right? Not quite. I didn't hear from him afterwards. Not even on the day of our meet up. I called him that day and asked him if we were even still going to meet up and this is where his version of the story and mine differ. I clearly remember getting ready and thinking to myself that this was going to be incredibly awkward, seeing how we haven't spoken to each other since that night. I was no longer sure if I wanted to waste my time shaving my legs for this date. I, of course, not wanting to waste another good razor on a possible Charming Houdini Copperfield called him and asked if this was even a good idea. He sounded, to me, a little relieved that I wasn't too keen on the idea of meeting him anymore. We decided not to meet. We kept in touch here and there via facebook, but never had another phone conversation.
Fast forward to a year or two later. Like I said, we kept in touch very little through facebook, but nothing like that first conversation we had that night until he posted something on facebook asking if anyone knew of places that were hiring. No, he wasn't a jobless hack, he was merely looking for a change. I, at the time, was working at an auto auction company that was hiring. This was my excuse to get in touch with him again and it worked. I told him I would call him after work to give him the details of what I did. All through my work day I was a bit nervous. I wondered if this conversation would be strictly business and cold or would it be like it was that night? The time could not go by fast enough. The day dragged, like that old pervy man's dog legs from Family guy. At 5 o'clock I rushed out to my car and called Tony the Tiger. I nervously counted the rings on the other end until he answered.
The start of the conversation was curtious. Filled with the obligatory, how have you been? I've been good. So, what's new? After that, I gave him the details about the job and then...it was continued with the familiar banter I had missed since that night. We talked for a couple of hours. About what? I don't even remember. All I remember is feeling like, I hope he sticks around this time.
We continued to have wonderful conversations by phone and skype. Remember I had never met this guy before and the closest we had ever come to meeting each other was chatting through webcams. He was completely handsome. I knew the first time seeing him on my computer screen (how lame is this) I was a goner. His smile was completely captivating. The first night of skype chatting was awesome. We skyped until the wee hours of the morning. Eventually we decide to meet and actually did.
The first meeting went better than I had hoped. It didn't last as long as I would have liked seeing he had plans with his nephew, but it was good. After a few meet ups and more chatting, we ended up dating. All of this probably makes you think that it should be all good in the hood. But as time went on his flakey-ness came through. It all started the night I tried to define the relationship, which should have been a huge red flag for me. Hind site is always such a bitch.
We had been hanging out almost every other day for a while and I knew we were on the same page emotionally. One day, I was asked out by some random guy and I had already turned him down because I was really swooning over Tony the Tiger, but this gave me the just cause to define the relationship. That night, I was going to bring it up. I, of course, was shitting bricks. I didn't want to scare him off, but I thought it was about time to have this conversation. So...I brought it up. I didn't get the response I was looking for. He stared at me blankly for what seemed like forever and just when I was about to throw my hands up in the air and give up, he responded. What did he respond with? I'm sorry but I told you I was emotionally retarded. Which, yes, he did, but come on! You have this girl you're clearly into in front of you telling you that she got asked out by another dude, but doesn't want to go because she'd rather be with you! This should have been my que to book it the hell out this situation, but like a complete idiot I stayed.
Now, ladies, listen up. Another situation where I'm going to hand you some pearls. If a guys tells you something like, I'm emotionally stunted or I just don't know what I want or I don't want a girlfriend, I just want to have fun, listen to him! He's not lying or trying to play hard to get. He's telling you the truth, listen to him, believe him and run.
Eventually it got to the point where we were hanging out once a week if that and only for a couple of hours because he had to go to work the next day. I rarely saw him on his day off and if we made plans, something would come up and said plans would fall through. I confronted him about it and also about him not being affectionate whatsoever. It started to feel like I was hanging out with a good buddy instead of a significant other. He said he would try, which would only last a couple of hours then things would go back to the way they were before. I couldn't understand how someone who understood me completely, could be so distant and flakey.
OK enough with the back story. I bet you want to know what was my breaking point. Well, after numerous excuses as to why we couldn't hang out, he eventually had a weekend off. Which was like hell freezing over for him because having a weekend off didn't come around often. My bestie came down from Austin and we had planned to meet at a bar. I invited Tony the Tiger and he agreed to go with us. I waited around for him, wondering what the hell was going on seeing how it was getting later and later. I was at the point where I just wanted him to hurry up and call me to let me know he was going to flake out on me yet again. He didn't and he finally made his way to my house close to ten and I felt horrible that I had kept my friend from Austin waiting all this time. We eventually made it to the bar and were starting to have a good time. So good of a time that I forgot about how late he had been getting to my place and that he kept my bestie waiting so long. Now, Tony the Tiger has since stopped trying to be affectionate and I was making my peace with that untill... some random bitch came up and asked if I could introduce them. I told her that him and I were together and she laughed. She proceeded to tell me that she was sorry, but she didn't think we were together because our body language said otherwise. I knew exactly what she meant. I tried as hard as I could not to knock her out for being such a bitch and succeeded in not becoming violent. Needless to say, I was embarrassed and upset that no one could tell we were a couple. Like we needed a huge neon sign saying it because there was no way in hell you could what we were to each other. Stubbornly he refused to show any sort of affection to me and now I was paying the price by having some random drunk hookers ask about him. Now, kiddos, I was not asking this man to be all over me, but...shit! At least hold my hand, give little touches here and there.
After getting to my house, where his car was, I asked him to text me when he got home and of course he said he wouldn't. He said this in a joking fashion as if I would be fooled into thinking that he would, but I knew better. He took this as me telling him what to do, which is not the case. The next day, we spoke and he told me of plans he made with his friends to go kayaking and of course those plans he didn't flake out which sent me reeling. I was completely flabergasted at how he could keep plans with them but not with me. Like I was just someone he hung out with when there was nothing better to do. So...I broke up with him. I had-had enough. We didn't speak to each other for a couple of days. Then he texted.
What did he text? Come on blogger! What the hell did he text you? Did he appologize and you two made up and now live happily ever after? Sadly, no. Sorry kiddos, but this story doesn't have the cliche happy ending. He texted something about sweater vests, acting like nothing had ever happened. Completely dismissing what had happened just a couple of days before. This led to another event of me being absolutely livid. In a nutshell I told him to go kick rocks and that to go watch something on elephants and whales because that was the only time he wasn't emotionally retarded. (for some reason he only showed any hint of "girly" emotion when watching documentaries on elephants and whales. He's an odd bird) And that was that. We didn't talk for a while after that.
So, you might be wondering how he is still in my life? Well, I missed him. Not just him but his friendship and contacted him. We've since had a heart to heart and I guess things are ok now. We've hung out a couple of times, but I try not to put too much stock into it and until recently have done good at not feeling like I want to try something with him again.
Wait! What? What happened recently that makes you want to try things again?
I took him out for his unbirthday and had a wonderful time. Made me wish that he wasn't such a flake, then...I kissed him. I know, I know. What the hell are you thinking? Where is this going to go now? Truth, is...I don't know. I don't even know what's going to happen when he reads this (because his curiousity is going to get the better of him). I bet you're thinking that this is my "hail mary" pass to him, but it's not. I've learned my lesson with Tony the Tiger. There's no point in chasing after a flake or hoping that they'll change. No one is going to change unless they want to. If he wants me, he knows where to find me. So, my young whipper snappers, don't go chasing after flakes. You'll only end up confused, frustrated and upset. If someone tells you they're a certain way, listen to them. Nine times out of ten, they're telling the truth.
Houdini's and David Copperfields
Hello, my pets! I bet you're scratching your head and wondering, what the hell is that title about? Why is this crazy fluffy girl talking about magicians? Well, of course I'll have a story to justify my title.
After a few peculiar months of being on that free dating website, I met someone, whom I thought had an amazing chemistry with (online of course). How this started you may be thinking? We of course saw each others profiles and did the coy, oh you looked at my profile? Well, I'm going to look at yours and maybe you'll write to me. Now, I know how stupid this sounds, but unfortunately this is how the online dating world works. People do this kind of bullshit all the time. I'll look at your profile a couple of times in hopes that you'll get the hint and email me. Am I guilty of such pathetic actions? Sad to say, my lovely noobs, that I am. Anyhoo! This blog post isn't about how I stupidly got sucked into the rabbit hole of twitterpated actions to attract the opposite sex online.
Back to the story! I met this charming, witty and extremely attractive specimen, with whom I instantly hit it off with. I use the term, met, loosely, because honestly, you're technically not meeting them, just conversing. He was as close to a "ten" I had ever been in my life (up until that point). The first few emails were very entertaining and insightful. I looked forward to signing into the website and I would anxiously hold my breath in hopes of getting a message from my Charming Houdini Copperfield.
After the dictated amount of emails passed back and forth he gave me his number and asked me to text him. We texted. Continued the great conversation when, he, broke the rule of the online dating site etiquette. What rule? You may be wondering right about now. Apparently, there are many unsaid rules, etiquette if you will, of how long one has to wait before calling someone they are interested in. He didn't wait this time that apparently is so crucial to some. I was completely in shocked, but also excited by this online dating James Dean rebel. Quickly into the conversation, he asked me to meet. I, of course even more quickly than he had asked, suggested coffee. If you read my second post, you'll understand why I suggested coffee. Needless to say, we set a date and time to meet up at our local coffee shop chain.
A couple of days before we were suppose to meet, I hadn't heard from my Charming Houdini Copperfield. Which was strange, because we had been texting and chatting everyday up until that point. In hind site, I now can see some of the red flags that were screaming at me to run because this guy was about to pull a David Copperfield on me. The day of the date he texted and called while I was scrounging my closet for yet again the best date attire I could find. He apologized for not being in touch and gave me some lame excuse. I don't recall the actual excuse he gave and I don't think it's really relevant to this blog post anyhow.
So, now kiddies, we're at the point to the actual date! About damn time, huh? The date went... swimmingly. Okay, maybe "swimmingly" doesn't quite sum up the night. It was as close to perfect as a date one could come without sounding like a cliche hallmark movie. It was almost like being with a man's man from the 50's where chivalry isn't dead, but without all the sexiest attitude. He held open doors , pulled out my chair, even stood up when I had to go to the ladies room. All qualities to swoon over, right? We kept each other laughing and smiling with hardly any effort. He made every effort to keep touching my hands and seemed to be into me. We ended up sitting outside the coffee shop chain far past the time it had closed just enjoying the company. It wasn't until we saw a nearby crack head scurry past us that we realized how late it actually was.
I know, I know. Crackhead? Geeze! Where the hell were you? It doesn't matter where we were! The date was going freaking fantastic! Now stay focus before you lose the moral to this story!
He walked me to my car and of course it was that awkward moment where you start to spazz out a little (all in your head of course). Your mind starts to race with thoughts of, is he going to kiss me? Should I go in for the kiss? Please God, don't make me look like a complete asshat and not read the signals that he's throwing at me correctly. Then it happened. Just like in the movies. He gently grabbed my chin, like they do in the movies, and leaned in for a kiss. It was, lack for a better word, perfect. It was just the right amount of lip, no tongue and not too hard. When he pulled away, he shot this incredibly sexy half smile and asked me to text him when I got home so he would know I got there okay. I was on cloud nine. All the way home, I was blushing and smiling like George Bush when he hears a dirty joke.
Fast forward four days and I have yet to hear from my Charming Houndini Copperfield. I restrained from texting him right after the date, because I didn't want to seem "clingy". After day two of not hearing from him, my mind started to become frantic with thoughts of what I could have possibly done wrong. Did I talk too much? Was I too much of a dork? I mean, he did compliment me continuously throughout the date? What the hell? Then by day three, I was just pissed and was too stubborn to call him and find out what the dealio was. By day four, I was confused and a still angry, but I figured I would call Mr. Charming Houdini Copperfield and find out what the hell his problem was.
The phone rang....and rang....and rang. No answer. I left a message, trying to sound as cool as possible, but I probably just sounded like Carrie in stalker mode. After another day of him not returning my call (I only called once people, I do have restraint), I sent him a text, hoping that would be an easier, less confrontational way, for him to reply back. Did he reply back? OF COURSE NOT!! That's why the title of this blog post is called "Houdinis and David Copperfields"! He completely disappeared and till this day I have no idea what went so horribly wrong. So whenever someone has one of these great first dates and then the other person disappears like how David Copperfield made the statue of liberty disappear (ahh you get it now, kiddos? Get why I titled this blog the way I did?). Tell them they're not the only one this has happened to. Somewhere out there, some awkward dorky girl who has way too much experience in online dating, has been through it too. Hopefully, they'll find some comfort in that without having to eat half a pound of chocolate while watching Hallmark movies. (Doubtful)
After a few peculiar months of being on that free dating website, I met someone, whom I thought had an amazing chemistry with (online of course). How this started you may be thinking? We of course saw each others profiles and did the coy, oh you looked at my profile? Well, I'm going to look at yours and maybe you'll write to me. Now, I know how stupid this sounds, but unfortunately this is how the online dating world works. People do this kind of bullshit all the time. I'll look at your profile a couple of times in hopes that you'll get the hint and email me. Am I guilty of such pathetic actions? Sad to say, my lovely noobs, that I am. Anyhoo! This blog post isn't about how I stupidly got sucked into the rabbit hole of twitterpated actions to attract the opposite sex online.
Back to the story! I met this charming, witty and extremely attractive specimen, with whom I instantly hit it off with. I use the term, met, loosely, because honestly, you're technically not meeting them, just conversing. He was as close to a "ten" I had ever been in my life (up until that point). The first few emails were very entertaining and insightful. I looked forward to signing into the website and I would anxiously hold my breath in hopes of getting a message from my Charming Houdini Copperfield.
After the dictated amount of emails passed back and forth he gave me his number and asked me to text him. We texted. Continued the great conversation when, he, broke the rule of the online dating site etiquette. What rule? You may be wondering right about now. Apparently, there are many unsaid rules, etiquette if you will, of how long one has to wait before calling someone they are interested in. He didn't wait this time that apparently is so crucial to some. I was completely in shocked, but also excited by this online dating James Dean rebel. Quickly into the conversation, he asked me to meet. I, of course even more quickly than he had asked, suggested coffee. If you read my second post, you'll understand why I suggested coffee. Needless to say, we set a date and time to meet up at our local coffee shop chain.
A couple of days before we were suppose to meet, I hadn't heard from my Charming Houdini Copperfield. Which was strange, because we had been texting and chatting everyday up until that point. In hind site, I now can see some of the red flags that were screaming at me to run because this guy was about to pull a David Copperfield on me. The day of the date he texted and called while I was scrounging my closet for yet again the best date attire I could find. He apologized for not being in touch and gave me some lame excuse. I don't recall the actual excuse he gave and I don't think it's really relevant to this blog post anyhow.
So, now kiddies, we're at the point to the actual date! About damn time, huh? The date went... swimmingly. Okay, maybe "swimmingly" doesn't quite sum up the night. It was as close to perfect as a date one could come without sounding like a cliche hallmark movie. It was almost like being with a man's man from the 50's where chivalry isn't dead, but without all the sexiest attitude. He held open doors , pulled out my chair, even stood up when I had to go to the ladies room. All qualities to swoon over, right? We kept each other laughing and smiling with hardly any effort. He made every effort to keep touching my hands and seemed to be into me. We ended up sitting outside the coffee shop chain far past the time it had closed just enjoying the company. It wasn't until we saw a nearby crack head scurry past us that we realized how late it actually was.
I know, I know. Crackhead? Geeze! Where the hell were you? It doesn't matter where we were! The date was going freaking fantastic! Now stay focus before you lose the moral to this story!
He walked me to my car and of course it was that awkward moment where you start to spazz out a little (all in your head of course). Your mind starts to race with thoughts of, is he going to kiss me? Should I go in for the kiss? Please God, don't make me look like a complete asshat and not read the signals that he's throwing at me correctly. Then it happened. Just like in the movies. He gently grabbed my chin, like they do in the movies, and leaned in for a kiss. It was, lack for a better word, perfect. It was just the right amount of lip, no tongue and not too hard. When he pulled away, he shot this incredibly sexy half smile and asked me to text him when I got home so he would know I got there okay. I was on cloud nine. All the way home, I was blushing and smiling like George Bush when he hears a dirty joke.
Fast forward four days and I have yet to hear from my Charming Houndini Copperfield. I restrained from texting him right after the date, because I didn't want to seem "clingy". After day two of not hearing from him, my mind started to become frantic with thoughts of what I could have possibly done wrong. Did I talk too much? Was I too much of a dork? I mean, he did compliment me continuously throughout the date? What the hell? Then by day three, I was just pissed and was too stubborn to call him and find out what the dealio was. By day four, I was confused and a still angry, but I figured I would call Mr. Charming Houdini Copperfield and find out what the hell his problem was.
The phone rang....and rang....and rang. No answer. I left a message, trying to sound as cool as possible, but I probably just sounded like Carrie in stalker mode. After another day of him not returning my call (I only called once people, I do have restraint), I sent him a text, hoping that would be an easier, less confrontational way, for him to reply back. Did he reply back? OF COURSE NOT!! That's why the title of this blog post is called "Houdinis and David Copperfields"! He completely disappeared and till this day I have no idea what went so horribly wrong. So whenever someone has one of these great first dates and then the other person disappears like how David Copperfield made the statue of liberty disappear (ahh you get it now, kiddos? Get why I titled this blog the way I did?). Tell them they're not the only one this has happened to. Somewhere out there, some awkward dorky girl who has way too much experience in online dating, has been through it too. Hopefully, they'll find some comfort in that without having to eat half a pound of chocolate while watching Hallmark movies. (Doubtful)
Friday, November 9, 2012
The downfall of the word "curvy"
What most people will find once they enter the online dating circus is that you need to fill in your "stats". Of course, this sounds very simple. You start out with your hair and eye color, then your height...then the damn site will ask you for your "body type". Depending on what site you're on, it will give you a limited number of choices. Apparently dating websites only think there are six different types of bodies in the world. Let's see now, there's "average", "slim", "athletic", "jacked", "curvy", and a "few extra". This my friends, is where the problems lies. Not with any of the other body types, although "jacked" screams Ed Hardy douche bag, but I digress.
Now, most people will describe themselves as "average" or "athletic". Well, most guys will. Girls on the other hand are infamous for misleading men with the words they choose to describe their bodies. Especially the girls that describe themselves as "curvy".
Are you paying attention, kiddos? I'm about to give you some pearls here. (If you don't know what that means, you should stop reading now. That means I'm going to give you some pearls of wisdom).
Back to my rant. You have these women that say they are "curvy", when in fact curvy was about 75-100lbs ago. Granted, I like to call myself fluffy because I don't have the boobs to call myself curvy, but I do have the hips, butt, and not huge waist to do so. Why do I get irritated with these girls calling themselves "curvy"? Well, because guys now associate curvy with fat and obese. When that is not the case. Curvy is Marilyn Monroe, not the mother from Here Comes Honey BooBoo.
How can you tell if you come across one of these imposters of the curvy description? By their pictures! Look at the angles they use. Rule of thumb, my noobs, the higher the angle the bigger the person. If they can't take a picture straight on, they probably have a few extra pounds.
I know I'm sounding really harsh, but this does irritate me. You don't know how many times I've been told, "Oh, I thought you were going to be huge because you said you were curvy" or "I'm sorry I'm not into big women". Now I'm not saying that women above the scale of curvy are hideous, because they are not. There are many big beautiful women that are simply gorgeous and there are many men out there that love a big woman. Granted many won't admit it, because society dictates that as unacceptable, but that's another topic to blog about.
I guess my general point to this blog post is, don't be ashamed of saying what you're actual body type is. Embrace it, own it and please ladies stop lying about it! You too men, a lot of you are not "jacked" but puffy. But again, that's another topic for a different blog post.
Now, most people will describe themselves as "average" or "athletic". Well, most guys will. Girls on the other hand are infamous for misleading men with the words they choose to describe their bodies. Especially the girls that describe themselves as "curvy".
Are you paying attention, kiddos? I'm about to give you some pearls here. (If you don't know what that means, you should stop reading now. That means I'm going to give you some pearls of wisdom).
Back to my rant. You have these women that say they are "curvy", when in fact curvy was about 75-100lbs ago. Granted, I like to call myself fluffy because I don't have the boobs to call myself curvy, but I do have the hips, butt, and not huge waist to do so. Why do I get irritated with these girls calling themselves "curvy"? Well, because guys now associate curvy with fat and obese. When that is not the case. Curvy is Marilyn Monroe, not the mother from Here Comes Honey BooBoo.
How can you tell if you come across one of these imposters of the curvy description? By their pictures! Look at the angles they use. Rule of thumb, my noobs, the higher the angle the bigger the person. If they can't take a picture straight on, they probably have a few extra pounds.
I know I'm sounding really harsh, but this does irritate me. You don't know how many times I've been told, "Oh, I thought you were going to be huge because you said you were curvy" or "I'm sorry I'm not into big women". Now I'm not saying that women above the scale of curvy are hideous, because they are not. There are many big beautiful women that are simply gorgeous and there are many men out there that love a big woman. Granted many won't admit it, because society dictates that as unacceptable, but that's another topic to blog about.
I guess my general point to this blog post is, don't be ashamed of saying what you're actual body type is. Embrace it, own it and please ladies stop lying about it! You too men, a lot of you are not "jacked" but puffy. But again, that's another topic for a different blog post.
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