Posts
Ok. I got back on the internet and no one is there. They have all left. No winks or emails or anything.
I threw out to the universe that I am done dating and what do I get? Agreement.
Trying to be proactive I winked at mutiple guys, even emailed a couple. One said in his profile that he loved his job because he got to save the world. I thought to myself "Yes, maybe he is in Green Peace!" So I carefully crafted a breezy email:
Hi, I read your profile and am dying to know what you do to save the world. Most importantly, does it involve tights or a cape?
His response to what I believed was a witty opening:
If you really must know, I difuse Bombs.
Oh.
Wow. You really do save the world then.
And without a sense of humor it must seem. Nothing more from He-Man.
Another dude, 28, emailed asking how my week is going and if I have any fun plans coming up. I responded, but my heart isn'y into it. I want to stamp my feet and cry.... Why don't boys like me anymore?
Tuesday, November 13, 2012
Another Run Down Memory Lane
Something about the change in weather always makes me nostalgic. I have been dreaming about long lost relationships, my parent's house, trips from years ago. Songs come on the radio and I am transported into that time, I can see and smell the memories. I have always been this way, but this year it feels like an assault.
Friday night, my only remaining friend from high school was in town for her mom's 60th birthday. Jane has always been my crazy friend but close, though even in high school we never got together very often. Over the years it has been less and less, but we always seem to pick things back up where we left off in the short times we saw each other. I was at her first wedding 10 years ago and will be at her second one in January. I love her like my crazy cousins.
Apparently, Jane has been feeling the nostalgia too. After over a decade away from Arizona she is planning to uproot her life and head home. I worry for her, AZ isn't as eclectic as she's grown accustomed to in San Diego.
In Casa Grande there is slim pickings when it comes to night life. We chose a mostly deserted dive and ran into my old estranged DJ friend. Flashback to weird high school through 20's memories:
At 16, the most popular place to work in town was Dairy Queen. My sister worked there with all her friends so it seemed like a natural job for me. You got to spend time with your buddies and go out to parties together. It was a strange tribe. More so, were the non-Dairy Queen regulars. Friends who would stop in and mingle. One day I was cleaning the counter when DJ walked in. I had seen him at school, some of my friends had had a thing for him freshman year. He had been untouchable with a steady girlfriend. Long careless hair, penetrating blue eyes, grunge style clothes, notorious for parties. I had never talked to him before, and here he was walking toward the counter. He wanted a "blue thing". (Blue Raspberry Mr. Misty, for the laymen) He didn't get charged, the gang told me.
I started hanging out with the Dairy Queen group, and DJ. When I was dating the guy who was my "first" I was invited to DJ's house only to find my boyfriend had taken off to a party. My shoulders sagged, because I had lied to my parents to buy an extra two hours before having to get home and would now be early. DJ insisted I stay, have a beer and proceeded to teach me how to flick bottle caps, a skill I used frequently for years.
DJ's little sister Cara was very serious until I got to know her. She was a hard ass who thought I was too prim, until she got to know me. We became really close and I would stay over at their house often, DJ taking us to parties and home. One night after many beers, DJ and I were alone on the couch talking and he kissed me. So sweetly. Just kissed, and held each other until we fell asleep. Cara found us the next day full of questions, but DJ became detached and told me he didn't want to date me. I was too young. A whole 18 months younger. We tried to be friends, even got ice cream together a week later, but I was smitten and he didn't want that. Yet every time we were out at parties he would watch and smile.
A couple months later at a desert party he saw me kiss a new guy I had been dating two days and chewed me out. Oh high school! How we can be so silly and immature. DJ and I were at odds, Cara thought it was hilarious. We saw each other through our social group but DJ kept his distance and I dated yet another asshole who would later cheat on me. Then slam me between a door. And threaten me, and slam me on the concrete. DJ was the person I called. When our friend and Cara's boyfriend overdosed, we leaned on each other to try to be there for her.
When I moved away DJ would come visit me. It was always platonic, watch a movie or go out. We became friends, best friends. No matter where he was he would call to check in on me. At 19 I had my nervous breakdown, quit college, was working at a strip club waiting tables 6-7 nights a week, watched a friend die in a motorcycle accident... and DJ was right there. A vacation was needed, so he drove me to Rocky Point. The first night we sat on the beach drinking and talking, I cried about my life and he such a good friend listening. He would even stand at the end of the bar while I got drinks so boys could flirt with me.
The next day at lunch, a group of Air Force Guys sat next to us and one asked me if I would like to try his Orgasm (shot). DJ laughed as I downed the whole thing. DJ played hackey sack with some of the guys on the beach while I flirted with what was to become Air Force Guy. On the way back AFG mentioned how cool DJ was about sharing his girlfriend. "He's not my boyfriend. He's just my best friend." Later that night DJ mingled and had fun while I made out with AFG, then carried my drunk ass back to the hotel. We listened to Shaggy the whole trip. When I went to NM to visit AFG months later, DJ was working 100 miles away but came to see us. We did a swing dance at the military bar in front of everyone.
DJ would surface here and there for years. Once in a blue moon he would kiss me simply, right before I wouldn't see him again for months, but we would go back to just being friends. Once we made out like teenagers.
I was 23 when DJ's best friend died cleaning a gun. This guy was like his brother. He asked me to come to the funeral, and though DJ wanted me sitting upfront with him, I had only known his friend at a distance so I stood in the back. I went with him to the after wake, held him when he finally cried in my car. It was that night that we finally changed. DJ wouldn't let me rest in the background while he partied with people who had been an every day part of his life with his newly lost brother. He wouldn't let go of my hand. Then he just held on to me, or hugged me, and finally was just wrapped around me while everything else went on.
I stayed the night in his bed. He kissed me, wanted me, and oh just to make him feel better I wanted to give in to seven years of him never before wanting me this way...... But I knew it was grief. I was his friend, and I would give him anything, but I wouldn't lose him over something so stupid.
We became inseparable. Talking all the time, seeing each other all the time, until one night I had been out drinking early and was sobering up by 10pm. Not exactly sober, but close enough (at that idiotic time of my life) to drive to Casa Grande and finally have sex with DJ. I drove my roommate's car to the bar he worked at and the smile he gave when he saw me was like the sun coming out at night. When we slept together, it was a perfect fit. I was so happy to have my best friend. To have all of him. One night during, I was just so full I said it. I said I loved him. Which was so true. There were so many different kinds of love and I felt he was family (checking in on my dad when I wasn't around because he liked my dad), friend (all the years and things we had gone through), and as a lover. I think I scared the shit out of him.
Sometime later, at the bar where he worked DJ was so drunk one night. I was in my dance clothes after teaching for three hours. He started yelling at me that he loved me. This wasn't right. Where was my friend? Where was the person who shielded me, took me from parties before a fight or cops happened, who lovingly kept his distance for seven years because it was never the right time for us? A few days pass, DJ planned to come up to Tempe and I was making dinner. I have since learned that if I try to cook and be domestic my relationships end shortly thereafter. He never showed. He never called. He didn't answer his phone. For TWO days. I couldn't call Cara because she was in boot camp. I didn't know how to get a hold of his mom. So I waited. And got pissed.
Sitting with my roommate, I decided to call the bar. I asked if DJ was there and the bartender told me to hold on. I threw the phone at my roommate. She told DJ I had left some things at his place and she was coming to get them tomorrow night, then hung up. We had been dating less than three months. Seven years of friendship was fucked in less than a quarter of a year. I went to get my stuff, and he had the puppy dog eyes. Some shit had happened regarding his 2nd DUI, he was worried about driving to Tempe, had left his phone at his moms... I told him to stop the excuses. If he had wanted to see me, contact me, he would have come hell or high water. I could have helped him. He cried. I told him he needed to start being a man.
We were never the same again. I would see him around town, he would watch like all those years ago at parties. Then he stopped. He had a girlfriend who didn't like the looks of me when I came to say hi. He ignored me. I would get a phone call once in awhile wanting to know how I have been. I missed my friend... He called when he heard my dad died, but didn't come to the funeral.
He has a daughter now with the girlfriend who didn't care for me, has been sober 5 years, and owns his own company which is doing really well. I started ignoring his voice mails, twice a year, after yelling at him one night 4 years ago at a wedding that he couldn't be my friend anymore even though I missed him. It was the most embarrassing night of my life for soooooo many reasons- the night of not being able to walk, talk or see, a WHOLE separate story.
So, back to Friday night and seeing him again. It was strange to see this person who will forever be a part of me, but I can no longer share any closeness. Looking into his eyes, the kind that look like they know what you are thinking, I wanted to go back to high school and flick beer caps with him. I gave him a hug, then went to get a drink with Jane and her fiance'. We found a little table to sit at and not five minutes later
"Girl, you're my angel, you're my darling angel
Closer than my peeps you are to me, baby
Shorty, you're my angel, you're my darling angel
Girl, you're my friend when I'm in need, lady
Life is one big party when you're still young
But who's gonna have your back when it's all done
It's all good when you're little, you have pure fun
Can't be a fool, son, what about the long run
Looking back Shorty always mention
Said me not giving her much attention
She was there through my incarceration
I want to show the nation my appreciation
Girl, you're my angel, you're my darling angel
Closer than my peeps you are to me, baby
Shorty, you're my angel, you're my darling angel
Girl, you're my friend when I'm in need, lady
You're a queen and so you should be treated
Though you never get the lovin' that you needed
Could have left, but I called and you heeded
Begged and I pleaded, mission completed
Mama said that I and I dissed the program
Not the type to mess around with her emotion
But the feeling that I have for you is so strong
Been together so long and this could never be wrong
Girl, you're my angel, you're my darling angel
Closer than my peeps you are to me, baby
Shorty, you're my angel, you're my darling angel
Girl, you're my friend when I'm in need, lady
Uh, uh
Girl, in spite of my behavior, said I'm your savior
(You must be sent from up above)
And you appear to me so tender, say girl I surrender
(Thanks for giving me your love)"
He remembered.
Maybe one day we will get to be friends again.
Friday night, my only remaining friend from high school was in town for her mom's 60th birthday. Jane has always been my crazy friend but close, though even in high school we never got together very often. Over the years it has been less and less, but we always seem to pick things back up where we left off in the short times we saw each other. I was at her first wedding 10 years ago and will be at her second one in January. I love her like my crazy cousins.
Apparently, Jane has been feeling the nostalgia too. After over a decade away from Arizona she is planning to uproot her life and head home. I worry for her, AZ isn't as eclectic as she's grown accustomed to in San Diego.
In Casa Grande there is slim pickings when it comes to night life. We chose a mostly deserted dive and ran into my old estranged DJ friend. Flashback to weird high school through 20's memories:
At 16, the most popular place to work in town was Dairy Queen. My sister worked there with all her friends so it seemed like a natural job for me. You got to spend time with your buddies and go out to parties together. It was a strange tribe. More so, were the non-Dairy Queen regulars. Friends who would stop in and mingle. One day I was cleaning the counter when DJ walked in. I had seen him at school, some of my friends had had a thing for him freshman year. He had been untouchable with a steady girlfriend. Long careless hair, penetrating blue eyes, grunge style clothes, notorious for parties. I had never talked to him before, and here he was walking toward the counter. He wanted a "blue thing". (Blue Raspberry Mr. Misty, for the laymen) He didn't get charged, the gang told me.
I started hanging out with the Dairy Queen group, and DJ. When I was dating the guy who was my "first" I was invited to DJ's house only to find my boyfriend had taken off to a party. My shoulders sagged, because I had lied to my parents to buy an extra two hours before having to get home and would now be early. DJ insisted I stay, have a beer and proceeded to teach me how to flick bottle caps, a skill I used frequently for years.
DJ's little sister Cara was very serious until I got to know her. She was a hard ass who thought I was too prim, until she got to know me. We became really close and I would stay over at their house often, DJ taking us to parties and home. One night after many beers, DJ and I were alone on the couch talking and he kissed me. So sweetly. Just kissed, and held each other until we fell asleep. Cara found us the next day full of questions, but DJ became detached and told me he didn't want to date me. I was too young. A whole 18 months younger. We tried to be friends, even got ice cream together a week later, but I was smitten and he didn't want that. Yet every time we were out at parties he would watch and smile.
A couple months later at a desert party he saw me kiss a new guy I had been dating two days and chewed me out. Oh high school! How we can be so silly and immature. DJ and I were at odds, Cara thought it was hilarious. We saw each other through our social group but DJ kept his distance and I dated yet another asshole who would later cheat on me. Then slam me between a door. And threaten me, and slam me on the concrete. DJ was the person I called. When our friend and Cara's boyfriend overdosed, we leaned on each other to try to be there for her.
When I moved away DJ would come visit me. It was always platonic, watch a movie or go out. We became friends, best friends. No matter where he was he would call to check in on me. At 19 I had my nervous breakdown, quit college, was working at a strip club waiting tables 6-7 nights a week, watched a friend die in a motorcycle accident... and DJ was right there. A vacation was needed, so he drove me to Rocky Point. The first night we sat on the beach drinking and talking, I cried about my life and he such a good friend listening. He would even stand at the end of the bar while I got drinks so boys could flirt with me.
The next day at lunch, a group of Air Force Guys sat next to us and one asked me if I would like to try his Orgasm (shot). DJ laughed as I downed the whole thing. DJ played hackey sack with some of the guys on the beach while I flirted with what was to become Air Force Guy. On the way back AFG mentioned how cool DJ was about sharing his girlfriend. "He's not my boyfriend. He's just my best friend." Later that night DJ mingled and had fun while I made out with AFG, then carried my drunk ass back to the hotel. We listened to Shaggy the whole trip. When I went to NM to visit AFG months later, DJ was working 100 miles away but came to see us. We did a swing dance at the military bar in front of everyone.
DJ would surface here and there for years. Once in a blue moon he would kiss me simply, right before I wouldn't see him again for months, but we would go back to just being friends. Once we made out like teenagers.
I was 23 when DJ's best friend died cleaning a gun. This guy was like his brother. He asked me to come to the funeral, and though DJ wanted me sitting upfront with him, I had only known his friend at a distance so I stood in the back. I went with him to the after wake, held him when he finally cried in my car. It was that night that we finally changed. DJ wouldn't let me rest in the background while he partied with people who had been an every day part of his life with his newly lost brother. He wouldn't let go of my hand. Then he just held on to me, or hugged me, and finally was just wrapped around me while everything else went on.
I stayed the night in his bed. He kissed me, wanted me, and oh just to make him feel better I wanted to give in to seven years of him never before wanting me this way...... But I knew it was grief. I was his friend, and I would give him anything, but I wouldn't lose him over something so stupid.
We became inseparable. Talking all the time, seeing each other all the time, until one night I had been out drinking early and was sobering up by 10pm. Not exactly sober, but close enough (at that idiotic time of my life) to drive to Casa Grande and finally have sex with DJ. I drove my roommate's car to the bar he worked at and the smile he gave when he saw me was like the sun coming out at night. When we slept together, it was a perfect fit. I was so happy to have my best friend. To have all of him. One night during, I was just so full I said it. I said I loved him. Which was so true. There were so many different kinds of love and I felt he was family (checking in on my dad when I wasn't around because he liked my dad), friend (all the years and things we had gone through), and as a lover. I think I scared the shit out of him.
Sometime later, at the bar where he worked DJ was so drunk one night. I was in my dance clothes after teaching for three hours. He started yelling at me that he loved me. This wasn't right. Where was my friend? Where was the person who shielded me, took me from parties before a fight or cops happened, who lovingly kept his distance for seven years because it was never the right time for us? A few days pass, DJ planned to come up to Tempe and I was making dinner. I have since learned that if I try to cook and be domestic my relationships end shortly thereafter. He never showed. He never called. He didn't answer his phone. For TWO days. I couldn't call Cara because she was in boot camp. I didn't know how to get a hold of his mom. So I waited. And got pissed.
Sitting with my roommate, I decided to call the bar. I asked if DJ was there and the bartender told me to hold on. I threw the phone at my roommate. She told DJ I had left some things at his place and she was coming to get them tomorrow night, then hung up. We had been dating less than three months. Seven years of friendship was fucked in less than a quarter of a year. I went to get my stuff, and he had the puppy dog eyes. Some shit had happened regarding his 2nd DUI, he was worried about driving to Tempe, had left his phone at his moms... I told him to stop the excuses. If he had wanted to see me, contact me, he would have come hell or high water. I could have helped him. He cried. I told him he needed to start being a man.
We were never the same again. I would see him around town, he would watch like all those years ago at parties. Then he stopped. He had a girlfriend who didn't like the looks of me when I came to say hi. He ignored me. I would get a phone call once in awhile wanting to know how I have been. I missed my friend... He called when he heard my dad died, but didn't come to the funeral.
He has a daughter now with the girlfriend who didn't care for me, has been sober 5 years, and owns his own company which is doing really well. I started ignoring his voice mails, twice a year, after yelling at him one night 4 years ago at a wedding that he couldn't be my friend anymore even though I missed him. It was the most embarrassing night of my life for soooooo many reasons- the night of not being able to walk, talk or see, a WHOLE separate story.
So, back to Friday night and seeing him again. It was strange to see this person who will forever be a part of me, but I can no longer share any closeness. Looking into his eyes, the kind that look like they know what you are thinking, I wanted to go back to high school and flick beer caps with him. I gave him a hug, then went to get a drink with Jane and her fiance'. We found a little table to sit at and not five minutes later
"Girl, you're my angel, you're my darling angel
Closer than my peeps you are to me, baby
Shorty, you're my angel, you're my darling angel
Girl, you're my friend when I'm in need, lady
Life is one big party when you're still young
But who's gonna have your back when it's all done
It's all good when you're little, you have pure fun
Can't be a fool, son, what about the long run
Looking back Shorty always mention
Said me not giving her much attention
She was there through my incarceration
I want to show the nation my appreciation
Girl, you're my angel, you're my darling angel
Closer than my peeps you are to me, baby
Shorty, you're my angel, you're my darling angel
Girl, you're my friend when I'm in need, lady
You're a queen and so you should be treated
Though you never get the lovin' that you needed
Could have left, but I called and you heeded
Begged and I pleaded, mission completed
Mama said that I and I dissed the program
Not the type to mess around with her emotion
But the feeling that I have for you is so strong
Been together so long and this could never be wrong
Girl, you're my angel, you're my darling angel
Closer than my peeps you are to me, baby
Shorty, you're my angel, you're my darling angel
Girl, you're my friend when I'm in need, lady
Uh, uh
Girl, in spite of my behavior, said I'm your savior
(You must be sent from up above)
And you appear to me so tender, say girl I surrender
(Thanks for giving me your love)"
He remembered.
Maybe one day we will get to be friends again.
Monday, November 5, 2012
The Mustache Man
OK, still here. Still losing it. Fast approaching 1 year anniversary of no sex. Slightly dying inside. It should shame me saying that a whole sex-free year is a record, but it doesn't. I'm that sick. Fast approaching zombie mode... must have sex... must have SEX...
I have spent more time talking to Kelly who came up with a business plan for us:
Kelly: We should open up a store and target women in their thirties. Our campaign can be "Don't want to be a ho no mo? Come to Vibrators 'R' Us, and get your groove on with yourself. Satisfaction guaranteed and no risk of STD's!
We could be millionaires. Let's just buy a bunch of vibrators and do it, screw corporate America. LOL
Me: OMG! I am laughing so fucking hard right now!! We need a business plan!
Kelly: No we don't. We need vibrators... I thought of a new name "Good Vibrations" Hahahahaha!
Me: We could sell them out of the back of my car in front of Weight Watchers and fro yo places!
It was the best text of my life! Just imagining Kelly scrunching up her nose cackling in her car between meetings. Too perfect! I had to share with the poor Mormon kid sitting next to me and Anastasia at work.
Kelly recently got out of a relationship that she doesn't want me write about, but it really messed her up. In an effort to hang out more we met at Nordstrom on Sunday to find her shoes. Neither of us enjoy shopping. After an hour in Nordstrom I realized why she didn't like it. Hot Australian with perfect suit and dashing silver hair waited on us. I talked to him like a co-commiserate, Kelly asked for MORE shoes.
As we left, Kelly reserving a 24 hour hold on shoes she said she wouldn't buy, I told Aussie guy we'd be back in an hour. He crinkled when he smiled. Kelly said he was flirting with me. Uh-uh.
As we strolled in and out of a few shops where we didn't have the money to buy anything I stopped dead in the middle of the mall. From within a new shop stood a man. A tall man in a suit vest that matched his pants. With a tie, and shirt sleeves rolled up. He had dark hair combed back in a 1930's style. So elegant. Debonair, I dare say. This man had a handle bar mustache and I wanted to jump his bones immediately.
Kelly paused with me and started to walk toward the store, as if I had seen something I wanted to buy. Could I buy that? I stopped her, whispering about the call of the hot guy with inexplicable mustache. "The mustache guy?" she laughed incredulous at my reaction. And normally I would have to agree, I find mustaches pretty creepy, but...
The Mustache Man and his cohort noticed us standing there staring and I had to make a decision. Go in and make some inane inquiry about his wares or walk away. I glanced up and looked at the sign. It was a freakin' shave shop! I have no men in my life, and you shouldn't really mention men if your life while attempting to pick up a mustached gentleman, so there was really no reason I should be entranced by that store unless I was a sex deprived 30 year old eejit. I walked away.
Kelly thought it was hilarious and many a "mustache ride" jokes followed. But I had felt drawn to that classy looking man. It made me want to put on my new boots and a dress and walk in there saying something like "Oh! My brother in law would simply adore this for his birthday!" while pointing at something with my bare LEFT hand. Instantly I remembered I need to stop biting my fingernails again.
When we walked past later after lunch on the way to reclaim Kelly's 24 hour hold shoes, I slowed my pace and checked out Mustache Man with a customer. I asked Kelly if she thought the mustache was real.
"I don't know, but judging from the thick 5 o'clock shadow he has going on I'd say he has a big dong. 'Cause you know if it's thick there, it is everywhere!" I laughed hysterically, she is getting too good with her naughty rhymes.
But I kept thinking about that Man....
I even mentioned, somewhat casually to my co-worker with goatee that he could maybe do some reconnaissance at the mall for me.... Anastasia tamped that one down.
So, the zombie is definitely out. I just keep reciting to myself that "I don't wanna be a ho no mo..."
I have spent more time talking to Kelly who came up with a business plan for us:
Kelly: We should open up a store and target women in their thirties. Our campaign can be "Don't want to be a ho no mo? Come to Vibrators 'R' Us, and get your groove on with yourself. Satisfaction guaranteed and no risk of STD's!
We could be millionaires. Let's just buy a bunch of vibrators and do it, screw corporate America. LOL
Me: OMG! I am laughing so fucking hard right now!! We need a business plan!
Kelly: No we don't. We need vibrators... I thought of a new name "Good Vibrations" Hahahahaha!
Me: We could sell them out of the back of my car in front of Weight Watchers and fro yo places!
It was the best text of my life! Just imagining Kelly scrunching up her nose cackling in her car between meetings. Too perfect! I had to share with the poor Mormon kid sitting next to me and Anastasia at work.
Kelly recently got out of a relationship that she doesn't want me write about, but it really messed her up. In an effort to hang out more we met at Nordstrom on Sunday to find her shoes. Neither of us enjoy shopping. After an hour in Nordstrom I realized why she didn't like it. Hot Australian with perfect suit and dashing silver hair waited on us. I talked to him like a co-commiserate, Kelly asked for MORE shoes.
As we left, Kelly reserving a 24 hour hold on shoes she said she wouldn't buy, I told Aussie guy we'd be back in an hour. He crinkled when he smiled. Kelly said he was flirting with me. Uh-uh.
As we strolled in and out of a few shops where we didn't have the money to buy anything I stopped dead in the middle of the mall. From within a new shop stood a man. A tall man in a suit vest that matched his pants. With a tie, and shirt sleeves rolled up. He had dark hair combed back in a 1930's style. So elegant. Debonair, I dare say. This man had a handle bar mustache and I wanted to jump his bones immediately.
Kelly paused with me and started to walk toward the store, as if I had seen something I wanted to buy. Could I buy that? I stopped her, whispering about the call of the hot guy with inexplicable mustache. "The mustache guy?" she laughed incredulous at my reaction. And normally I would have to agree, I find mustaches pretty creepy, but...
The Mustache Man and his cohort noticed us standing there staring and I had to make a decision. Go in and make some inane inquiry about his wares or walk away. I glanced up and looked at the sign. It was a freakin' shave shop! I have no men in my life, and you shouldn't really mention men if your life while attempting to pick up a mustached gentleman, so there was really no reason I should be entranced by that store unless I was a sex deprived 30 year old eejit. I walked away.
Kelly thought it was hilarious and many a "mustache ride" jokes followed. But I had felt drawn to that classy looking man. It made me want to put on my new boots and a dress and walk in there saying something like "Oh! My brother in law would simply adore this for his birthday!" while pointing at something with my bare LEFT hand. Instantly I remembered I need to stop biting my fingernails again.
When we walked past later after lunch on the way to reclaim Kelly's 24 hour hold shoes, I slowed my pace and checked out Mustache Man with a customer. I asked Kelly if she thought the mustache was real.
"I don't know, but judging from the thick 5 o'clock shadow he has going on I'd say he has a big dong. 'Cause you know if it's thick there, it is everywhere!" I laughed hysterically, she is getting too good with her naughty rhymes.
But I kept thinking about that Man....
I even mentioned, somewhat casually to my co-worker with goatee that he could maybe do some reconnaissance at the mall for me.... Anastasia tamped that one down.
So, the zombie is definitely out. I just keep reciting to myself that "I don't wanna be a ho no mo..."
It just goes to show... They ARE everywhere!
A long time ago (well, a couple weeks actually) in a galaxy far, far away (across the cube from me)...
Anastasia stands up and demands my attention. She wanted my opinion on a rather irritating male experience she had just encountered. I stood up immediately and ignored the work on my desk.
Apparently, she had this man friend, I use the term "man" loosely, who had recently become available again. He had a child around the same age as hers and they had breakfast one morning. I, of course, had to finger quote breakfast to make the nearby boy co-workers giggle. Well, afterward this friend had asked Anastasia out for drinks later in the week. Even though he seemed somewhat self-focused and collects records and had to live downtown to be where the "hipsters" are...
She thought "Why not?" The Force was not with her, my friend.
All week she heard nothing from him. At all. No plans to be made, not a hi, not a how's it going. Nada. On Saturday, when they were supposed to meet Anastasia's plans changed around some and she texted him to see if later in the evening would work. His response:
Dude: I have to work late and not sure I can meet. Stay tuned...
She tuned in on making some alternate plans. Hasn't heard from the guy since the incident a couple days prior...
Her question was: Was she stood up, or just merely blown off.
My answer: Both. And by an asshole, so technically she was lucky.
This seemed to be the guy's MO. When he was available he would want to hang out and then blow her off when he got with someone else. She was willing to have drinks to see if he had changed, despite her better judgement that assholes NEVER change.
All was quiet until last week. The guy had surfaced again and was texting her. Wanting to know what her plans were for Friday. Anastasia was blunt- she had a date. This immature "man" had to pipe in how he had just met someone, and she was the most wonderful person ever and soooooooo beautiful. He even sent Anastasia a picture of this new girl. Really? Are we in junior high? My love life is better than yours, neener-neener-neener! It was such a remarkable way to display his douchieness. While this brought home Anastasia's belief the guy was an asshole she still could not believe his stupidity.
It gets better. She rants again about his record collection. This 40 year old man, started a record collection and purposefully talks about bands no one cares about because he needs some cool hobby to make him seem hip. Not only does he refuse to shut up about these records, he says it with a Bostonian accent.
"Is he from back East?" I ask.
"New York, about half his life ago and before you ask, no. He doesn't say any other words with any type of accent. He spells it r-e-"
"Wait! He spells it? He has TEXTED it to you as a funny mispronounced word?"
"Yep. R-e-c-i-d-d-s. It is on purpose." She is nodding with this look like she's talking about a suicidal maniac. I am shaking my head in disbelief with the same astounded expression. Then I laugh hysterically. This guy is essence of douche!
"I am disappointed in you, Anastasia. How could you even consider going for drinks with this guy!" Although, I have been there more times than I like to admit.
This morning I came into work and Anastasia popped up over my wall wanting to know if I'd gotten her Facebook message. I shake my head. She hands me her phone like it is the Holy Grail, eyes twinkling. I had to read the texts that the guy sent her while she was on her date Friday.
Friday 10:42pm
How was your date?
Anastasia stands up and demands my attention. She wanted my opinion on a rather irritating male experience she had just encountered. I stood up immediately and ignored the work on my desk.
Apparently, she had this man friend, I use the term "man" loosely, who had recently become available again. He had a child around the same age as hers and they had breakfast one morning. I, of course, had to finger quote breakfast to make the nearby boy co-workers giggle. Well, afterward this friend had asked Anastasia out for drinks later in the week. Even though he seemed somewhat self-focused and collects records and had to live downtown to be where the "hipsters" are...
She thought "Why not?" The Force was not with her, my friend.
All week she heard nothing from him. At all. No plans to be made, not a hi, not a how's it going. Nada. On Saturday, when they were supposed to meet Anastasia's plans changed around some and she texted him to see if later in the evening would work. His response:
Dude: I have to work late and not sure I can meet. Stay tuned...
She tuned in on making some alternate plans. Hasn't heard from the guy since the incident a couple days prior...
Her question was: Was she stood up, or just merely blown off.
My answer: Both. And by an asshole, so technically she was lucky.
This seemed to be the guy's MO. When he was available he would want to hang out and then blow her off when he got with someone else. She was willing to have drinks to see if he had changed, despite her better judgement that assholes NEVER change.
All was quiet until last week. The guy had surfaced again and was texting her. Wanting to know what her plans were for Friday. Anastasia was blunt- she had a date. This immature "man" had to pipe in how he had just met someone, and she was the most wonderful person ever and soooooooo beautiful. He even sent Anastasia a picture of this new girl. Really? Are we in junior high? My love life is better than yours, neener-neener-neener! It was such a remarkable way to display his douchieness. While this brought home Anastasia's belief the guy was an asshole she still could not believe his stupidity.
It gets better. She rants again about his record collection. This 40 year old man, started a record collection and purposefully talks about bands no one cares about because he needs some cool hobby to make him seem hip. Not only does he refuse to shut up about these records, he says it with a Bostonian accent.
"Is he from back East?" I ask.
"New York, about half his life ago and before you ask, no. He doesn't say any other words with any type of accent. He spells it r-e-"
"Wait! He spells it? He has TEXTED it to you as a funny mispronounced word?"
"Yep. R-e-c-i-d-d-s. It is on purpose." She is nodding with this look like she's talking about a suicidal maniac. I am shaking my head in disbelief with the same astounded expression. Then I laugh hysterically. This guy is essence of douche!
"I am disappointed in you, Anastasia. How could you even consider going for drinks with this guy!" Although, I have been there more times than I like to admit.
This morning I came into work and Anastasia popped up over my wall wanting to know if I'd gotten her Facebook message. I shake my head. She hands me her phone like it is the Holy Grail, eyes twinkling. I had to read the texts that the guy sent her while she was on her date Friday.
Friday 10:42pm
How was your date?
Friday 10:54pm
I know this sounds shitty. But I am no longer in a relationship. I’m not feeling too good right now, but if you’d like to not sleep at home tonight, you can come on over.
My eyes are huge and I just stare up at her.
Friday 10:54pm
I don’t think you are cheap or anything. Far from it. I’d appreciate the company if you are up for it.
"What!" I break out laughing. This guy asks her how her date is going and then when there is no response 12 minutes later he thinks it is acceptable to booty-call her because he's broken hearted?
She shared this with her date, who has been a friend of hers for a while.
Her date's response (but not sent): This is Dale. We are on our date. I suggest you jerk off and go to bed, douche bag.
I am laughing and doing a little dance. Oh, she should have sent it!!!
Saturday 8:01am
I’m sorry about last night. She let me go and I was spiraling. Hope all went well. Text me later if you’d like.
"Didn't he just meet her? How do you break up and spiral down in under a week? This guy is an idiot!" Maybe he sent new girl a text about his recidds and she bolted.
I ask this over and over again, but really! WHAT IS WRONG WITH MEN?!?
When did they ALL go over to the Dark Side?
Tuesday, October 30, 2012
All The Single Ladies!
After less than a week trying to date I threw in the towel again after the Cop. What does this say about my endurance? Pah!
But really, what is wrong with men these days? They boast on their profiles about how much they love to camp, watch sports and are looking for a "drama-free" woman to share their lives with. Didn't they stop to think that any woman would be much more drama-free if she wasn't bitching at him about how much money he spent on yet another camp stove thingy or if he paid attention to her during dinner instead of watching the game, texting about the game, Facebooking about the game, and checking his fantasy football/golf/baseball/hockey/soccer/basketball league? It doesn't take a rocket scientist...
At work I haven't been working all that much as I have been organizing an all girls outing to the Dirty Girl Mud Run in support of the Breast Cancer Research Institute. I hate my job, so this makes going to work more fun. Well, tolerable anyway. I have raised over $350 to help girl's get money to go, and it will be entertaining to see all of us computer lazy gals get dirty. I'm already planning the next 5k! Me, who hates exercise and prefers beer.. (well they have a beer garden for after, I do my research.)
This got me thinking while talking to Anastasia. What more could I do while working at this lame company? It came to me via Beyonce. Before long, I was making silent plans to start a Single Ladies Club. Not so we could all get together, go out and meet males, but so we could get together, go out and maybe discover what the hell we're all doing wrong. And it would be fun. And it would help me get out of the house more often. AND if I can get back into the swing of marketing and small talk I can get the hell out of my current job! Now put your hands up! Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh!
The power of feeling good about being me is what I need. If there is no Mr. Right out there, I at least want to have a good time for the next 30 some odd years of my life. I want to make friends, find a job I love (at minimum don't dream will burst in to flame so I don't have to go in), and make some dough to travel with. Maybe I'll move to Georgia with Ange if she gets the regional position there. Maybe I'll move to Oregon. Maybe I will never move, but finally find happiness. I'm told here are all different kinds so it is probably time to start experimenting!
"I got gloss on my lips, a man on my hips
Got me tighter in my Dereon jeans
Acting up, drink in my cup
I can care less what you think
I need no permission, did I mention
Don't pay him any attention
'Cause you had your turn, and now you gonna learn
What it really feels like to miss me
'Cause if you liked it, then you should have put a ring on it
If you liked it, then you shoulda put a ring on it
Don't be mad once you see that he want it
'Cause if you liked it, then you shoulda put a ring on it
Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh"
Yes, I sang and typed. The dogs were very amused.
But really, what is wrong with men these days? They boast on their profiles about how much they love to camp, watch sports and are looking for a "drama-free" woman to share their lives with. Didn't they stop to think that any woman would be much more drama-free if she wasn't bitching at him about how much money he spent on yet another camp stove thingy or if he paid attention to her during dinner instead of watching the game, texting about the game, Facebooking about the game, and checking his fantasy football/golf/baseball/hockey/soccer/basketball league? It doesn't take a rocket scientist...
At work I haven't been working all that much as I have been organizing an all girls outing to the Dirty Girl Mud Run in support of the Breast Cancer Research Institute. I hate my job, so this makes going to work more fun. Well, tolerable anyway. I have raised over $350 to help girl's get money to go, and it will be entertaining to see all of us computer lazy gals get dirty. I'm already planning the next 5k! Me, who hates exercise and prefers beer.. (well they have a beer garden for after, I do my research.)
This got me thinking while talking to Anastasia. What more could I do while working at this lame company? It came to me via Beyonce. Before long, I was making silent plans to start a Single Ladies Club. Not so we could all get together, go out and meet males, but so we could get together, go out and maybe discover what the hell we're all doing wrong. And it would be fun. And it would help me get out of the house more often. AND if I can get back into the swing of marketing and small talk I can get the hell out of my current job! Now put your hands up! Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh!
The power of feeling good about being me is what I need. If there is no Mr. Right out there, I at least want to have a good time for the next 30 some odd years of my life. I want to make friends, find a job I love (at minimum don't dream will burst in to flame so I don't have to go in), and make some dough to travel with. Maybe I'll move to Georgia with Ange if she gets the regional position there. Maybe I'll move to Oregon. Maybe I will never move, but finally find happiness. I'm told here are all different kinds so it is probably time to start experimenting!
"I got gloss on my lips, a man on my hips
Got me tighter in my Dereon jeans
Acting up, drink in my cup
I can care less what you think
I need no permission, did I mention
Don't pay him any attention
'Cause you had your turn, and now you gonna learn
What it really feels like to miss me
'Cause if you liked it, then you should have put a ring on it
If you liked it, then you shoulda put a ring on it
Don't be mad once you see that he want it
'Cause if you liked it, then you shoulda put a ring on it
Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh"
Yes, I sang and typed. The dogs were very amused.
Saturday, October 27, 2012
Meeting the Cop
So, after my brief reprisal of Match.com I emailed back and forth with the Cop. We agreed to meet on Sunday when I was down home cleaning offices and would look like a bum. I re-read some of the Work Guy stuff which made me realize how fucking crazy I had been at that time and felt relief that I no longer had that "find someone now who will love you, marry you and give you babies" deal looming over my head.
After some debate I agreed to meet him at his house. A big Internet no-no. He suggested it and I refused. He claimed he wasn't a psycho and I reminded him that I read nerdily and the cop who always says he isn't a psycho killer usually ends up the psycho killer. I texted my mom his pic so she would know where to send the ambulance should I go missing.
In person, he is taller than me which is a plus. He decorates for Halloween like my Aunt Charlotte on crack, a plus I think. Has fish, knows all about them. Likes Harry Potter, huge plus. Builds Lego cities, nerdy but I can relate. Has a clean house, plus considering I don't. Was NYPD. Got a Purple Heart for a tour in the Middle East (which I assume is close to Mordor). He seems like a good guy....
Bad parts: I admit I don't like guns. Promptly shows me all his guns because for some odd reason men think that if you just hold one you'll not envision all the death and destruction they have the potential to create. Oh, you don't like guns, let's go shoot some to make you feel better! He's a Republican. There really shouldn't need to be any follow up to that one...
We both admit we are nervous but the two hour meet up goes nicely. We waive good bye, I fear I might shake his hand but make it to my car without that error. On my way to cleaning he texts me "Honest First Impressions?" What am I to say. He was cute and nice. I say that and he follows up with pretty much the same. I am on fire!
Then he wants me to come back so he can kiss me. Ummm... No. I have known him for 24 hours and had a lovely meet up at his home. I am not ready for first kissing after my sweaty cleaning job. He is persistent. I am jokey. My back hurts from trying to keep it light.
Cop texts that he really likes me. While that is sweet, he barely knows me so I don't think he has had time to develop any type of feelings. I mean, I liked meeting him, but don't know if I like him, like him. I sound like a fucking grade schooler. I decide to let it roll and see where this goes. Then he continues texting about how he wants to know if he can let down his walls. Umm... What? Not seeing any walls. He says he has been hurt a lot in the past. Dude may need some walls. Really wants to get married and have kids. Known you incredibly short amount of time.... Please stop sharing. Must wait until after the 5th date to have sex. We haven't even hugged yet!
The next day he texts me that he wants me to know he isn't a serial dater, he likes me, will just be seeing me and wants to see where this goes. It is phrased like he wants to go steady and I begin my freak out. 1 day of communication and he wants me to know he's exclusive. Chloe urges me not to blow him off. Maybe he is sensitive, which would be a good thing. Maybe he is making himself clear about his expectations and loyalty. Maybe he is trying to be as honest and straight forward as possible.
I come back with "Maybe he is bat shit crazy." Chloe shakes her head and demands I relax until after we have had another date and can clear the air. More texts from Cop on how he really likes me. Do I want to dress up in matching costumes for a party on Saturday? Eh, no. We could do something else? Tell him about hot yoga. He tells me I probably look beautiful after yoga, tell him he compliments me so much I may get a big head, responds that thinking of me sweaty after yoga is giving him a big head... I can't help but feel uncomfortable.
Ange comes over on Tuesday, Cop keeps texting me even though he knows I am hanging out with her. His night is busy. I suggest he throw everyone in jail. He would rather handcuff me. Umm? Yes, too soon for that type of banter. I tell her all the same stuff I shared at work with Chloe and she tries to get me to look on the bright side too. Doesn't every girl want to hear how much a guy likes her after the first date? Sure... but there is something off. I try to bury it, but it gnaws on my back like a rabid monkey.
Thursday we had agreed to meet for dinner. We discussed the types of food I like but he claimed he didn't know any places around Chandler to eat and we could go where I wanted. I hate that. Please provide some input, some suggestion. Did men forget that they should attempt to plan dates in the beginning? Do they want to put in no effort other than paying?
So we meet at a pizza place for dinner and drinks. I awkwardly hug him and try to smile. I feel at ease even though he is staring at me like he knows some secret. Where he plans on stashing my body? I don't know.
Let me make this short and sweet. Unlike our date.
He takes forever to order. I am starving and pounce on the waitress for a beer and salad. I tell him I don't like meat on pizza. Instead of asking why, he tells me why pizza is meant to have meat on it. We talk about him. I ask questions about his life, work, family, past relationships. Conversation starters which are designed to be volleyed back and forth. He doesn't ask about me. I try to tell him stories, but he interrupts with his own. Example, he has fish. When I start telling him about my disastrous attempts with fish (they die, I cry with heartbreak) he inserts all the things I did wrong, why the fish were destined to die, details about how the fish would have grown, their life spans, wanting to know the exact breed or whatever, before I ever got the entire story out. I started to get irritated.
Out by the car, we have a couple cigarettes and talk more. We discuss education. He corrects the way I say elementary, while placing the wrong emphasis on the word. I admit I use the slang in saying the word elemtry, kind of like a lot of people say probly instead of probably. But really I was trying to make a point in the CG educational system, which he disagreed with and tried to prove me wrong at every sentence coming out of my mouth. I got a little heated. Again I attempt a subject that my workmates abhor, genetically engineered foods directly related to consumerism. What should be a discussion turns into the Cop telling me how wrong I am about everything. It's like I am out with Scotty again! I am pissed. I call the Cop out on it and he smiles indulgently. He likes to debate. It is not a debate when you just tell the other they are wrong. This is not a fun date.
The conversation lags and he just stares at me grinning. I know he is thinking about kissing me. I'm not so sure I want him to kiss me the way he is just standing there staring. Then he says "What?" and laughs. Are we in high school? Eventually he moves in and places both hands on the side of my face. Faces come closer. Oh God, he opens his mouth. Tongues poke at each other and I think I might giggle. I lean in, hoping it gets better. It does, barely.
I grab beer on the way home. This feels absurd. He texts me what a great kisser I am. I can only respond "Really?"
I keep responding to his pushy overtures with the fact that we just met and I am a slow mover. I want to take time getting to know him. He understands but is really excited about me. He doesn't know anything about me!
Friday he wants me to come over to make out. Too fast, I say. He thinks that is funny. He texts me more, I don't respond. He texts me wanting to know what is wrong. I reply I am on the phone. He texts back that that is OK. I know it is. I can do whatever I want, I irrationally think. We are now Facebook friends. He texts me how I know certain people off my friends list.... Weird. One old dance student of mine he dated briefly.... More weird.
Saturday morning I am really wigged out by him. I stand exclaiming to my co-worker about his crazy. Peggy shakes her head "I haven't heard you say one good thing about this guy. You need to release him back into the sea." My phone is buzzing all over. He sends me 5 texts in a row. One is inviting me to hand out candy on Halloween next Wednesday. I am enraged that he keeps securing a date before having the next scheduled. What if we don't get a long? Isn't this the point of dating? Go out, see how it is, then decide whether or not to proceed. I share with Peggy and she agrees.
I text him, again, he is moving too fast. He explains he isn't. I reiterate how I feel. He justifies himself again. There is no "Sorry" or "I didn't mean to make you feel that way". Just two polar opposites. I say this isn't working for me. He again justifies his attempt to ask me out four days in advance, but thinks I am just not that into him and wishes me luck. Back at ya.
I felt kind of bad. I mean, he is a nice guy and I sincerely believe he just wants to find that special someone to settle down with. I'm just not that person. His intentions were good, but the way he went about things was so strange. If I hadn't ended things now I may have been breaking his heart a day or week from now when he sprinted into "Let's have sex" or "I love you" stage.
Peggy and I celebrate my freedom with the happy dance then proceed to scroll through Match.com making fun of 99.9% of the people. We even get her signed up on another site and we both cackle and moan at the devastation of possibilities out there.
But my Saturday night is blessedly free. Now I can go home and read a romance novel!
After some debate I agreed to meet him at his house. A big Internet no-no. He suggested it and I refused. He claimed he wasn't a psycho and I reminded him that I read nerdily and the cop who always says he isn't a psycho killer usually ends up the psycho killer. I texted my mom his pic so she would know where to send the ambulance should I go missing.
In person, he is taller than me which is a plus. He decorates for Halloween like my Aunt Charlotte on crack, a plus I think. Has fish, knows all about them. Likes Harry Potter, huge plus. Builds Lego cities, nerdy but I can relate. Has a clean house, plus considering I don't. Was NYPD. Got a Purple Heart for a tour in the Middle East (which I assume is close to Mordor). He seems like a good guy....
Bad parts: I admit I don't like guns. Promptly shows me all his guns because for some odd reason men think that if you just hold one you'll not envision all the death and destruction they have the potential to create. Oh, you don't like guns, let's go shoot some to make you feel better! He's a Republican. There really shouldn't need to be any follow up to that one...
We both admit we are nervous but the two hour meet up goes nicely. We waive good bye, I fear I might shake his hand but make it to my car without that error. On my way to cleaning he texts me "Honest First Impressions?" What am I to say. He was cute and nice. I say that and he follows up with pretty much the same. I am on fire!
Then he wants me to come back so he can kiss me. Ummm... No. I have known him for 24 hours and had a lovely meet up at his home. I am not ready for first kissing after my sweaty cleaning job. He is persistent. I am jokey. My back hurts from trying to keep it light.
Cop texts that he really likes me. While that is sweet, he barely knows me so I don't think he has had time to develop any type of feelings. I mean, I liked meeting him, but don't know if I like him, like him. I sound like a fucking grade schooler. I decide to let it roll and see where this goes. Then he continues texting about how he wants to know if he can let down his walls. Umm... What? Not seeing any walls. He says he has been hurt a lot in the past. Dude may need some walls. Really wants to get married and have kids. Known you incredibly short amount of time.... Please stop sharing. Must wait until after the 5th date to have sex. We haven't even hugged yet!
The next day he texts me that he wants me to know he isn't a serial dater, he likes me, will just be seeing me and wants to see where this goes. It is phrased like he wants to go steady and I begin my freak out. 1 day of communication and he wants me to know he's exclusive. Chloe urges me not to blow him off. Maybe he is sensitive, which would be a good thing. Maybe he is making himself clear about his expectations and loyalty. Maybe he is trying to be as honest and straight forward as possible.
I come back with "Maybe he is bat shit crazy." Chloe shakes her head and demands I relax until after we have had another date and can clear the air. More texts from Cop on how he really likes me. Do I want to dress up in matching costumes for a party on Saturday? Eh, no. We could do something else? Tell him about hot yoga. He tells me I probably look beautiful after yoga, tell him he compliments me so much I may get a big head, responds that thinking of me sweaty after yoga is giving him a big head... I can't help but feel uncomfortable.
Ange comes over on Tuesday, Cop keeps texting me even though he knows I am hanging out with her. His night is busy. I suggest he throw everyone in jail. He would rather handcuff me. Umm? Yes, too soon for that type of banter. I tell her all the same stuff I shared at work with Chloe and she tries to get me to look on the bright side too. Doesn't every girl want to hear how much a guy likes her after the first date? Sure... but there is something off. I try to bury it, but it gnaws on my back like a rabid monkey.
Thursday we had agreed to meet for dinner. We discussed the types of food I like but he claimed he didn't know any places around Chandler to eat and we could go where I wanted. I hate that. Please provide some input, some suggestion. Did men forget that they should attempt to plan dates in the beginning? Do they want to put in no effort other than paying?
So we meet at a pizza place for dinner and drinks. I awkwardly hug him and try to smile. I feel at ease even though he is staring at me like he knows some secret. Where he plans on stashing my body? I don't know.
Let me make this short and sweet. Unlike our date.
He takes forever to order. I am starving and pounce on the waitress for a beer and salad. I tell him I don't like meat on pizza. Instead of asking why, he tells me why pizza is meant to have meat on it. We talk about him. I ask questions about his life, work, family, past relationships. Conversation starters which are designed to be volleyed back and forth. He doesn't ask about me. I try to tell him stories, but he interrupts with his own. Example, he has fish. When I start telling him about my disastrous attempts with fish (they die, I cry with heartbreak) he inserts all the things I did wrong, why the fish were destined to die, details about how the fish would have grown, their life spans, wanting to know the exact breed or whatever, before I ever got the entire story out. I started to get irritated.
Out by the car, we have a couple cigarettes and talk more. We discuss education. He corrects the way I say elementary, while placing the wrong emphasis on the word. I admit I use the slang in saying the word elemtry, kind of like a lot of people say probly instead of probably. But really I was trying to make a point in the CG educational system, which he disagreed with and tried to prove me wrong at every sentence coming out of my mouth. I got a little heated. Again I attempt a subject that my workmates abhor, genetically engineered foods directly related to consumerism. What should be a discussion turns into the Cop telling me how wrong I am about everything. It's like I am out with Scotty again! I am pissed. I call the Cop out on it and he smiles indulgently. He likes to debate. It is not a debate when you just tell the other they are wrong. This is not a fun date.
The conversation lags and he just stares at me grinning. I know he is thinking about kissing me. I'm not so sure I want him to kiss me the way he is just standing there staring. Then he says "What?" and laughs. Are we in high school? Eventually he moves in and places both hands on the side of my face. Faces come closer. Oh God, he opens his mouth. Tongues poke at each other and I think I might giggle. I lean in, hoping it gets better. It does, barely.
I grab beer on the way home. This feels absurd. He texts me what a great kisser I am. I can only respond "Really?"
I keep responding to his pushy overtures with the fact that we just met and I am a slow mover. I want to take time getting to know him. He understands but is really excited about me. He doesn't know anything about me!
Friday he wants me to come over to make out. Too fast, I say. He thinks that is funny. He texts me more, I don't respond. He texts me wanting to know what is wrong. I reply I am on the phone. He texts back that that is OK. I know it is. I can do whatever I want, I irrationally think. We are now Facebook friends. He texts me how I know certain people off my friends list.... Weird. One old dance student of mine he dated briefly.... More weird.
Saturday morning I am really wigged out by him. I stand exclaiming to my co-worker about his crazy. Peggy shakes her head "I haven't heard you say one good thing about this guy. You need to release him back into the sea." My phone is buzzing all over. He sends me 5 texts in a row. One is inviting me to hand out candy on Halloween next Wednesday. I am enraged that he keeps securing a date before having the next scheduled. What if we don't get a long? Isn't this the point of dating? Go out, see how it is, then decide whether or not to proceed. I share with Peggy and she agrees.
I text him, again, he is moving too fast. He explains he isn't. I reiterate how I feel. He justifies himself again. There is no "Sorry" or "I didn't mean to make you feel that way". Just two polar opposites. I say this isn't working for me. He again justifies his attempt to ask me out four days in advance, but thinks I am just not that into him and wishes me luck. Back at ya.
I felt kind of bad. I mean, he is a nice guy and I sincerely believe he just wants to find that special someone to settle down with. I'm just not that person. His intentions were good, but the way he went about things was so strange. If I hadn't ended things now I may have been breaking his heart a day or week from now when he sprinted into "Let's have sex" or "I love you" stage.
Peggy and I celebrate my freedom with the happy dance then proceed to scroll through Match.com making fun of 99.9% of the people. We even get her signed up on another site and we both cackle and moan at the devastation of possibilities out there.
But my Saturday night is blessedly free. Now I can go home and read a romance novel!
Sunday, October 21, 2012
What About Me?
You ever get the feeling that you are talking to thin air? Welcome to my life.
Sometimes I think my writing is a way for me to get it all out there without having to feel like I'm interrupting someone else's air time...
Sigh. I have resigned myself to the fact that I am just one of those people who will not meet the love of their life, get married and happily spurt offspring. I like my life coming home to a house full of animals that occasionally love me, reading, and not having to wonder what someone else is thinking all the time.
That being said, I was feeling content rather than depressed for a change. I laughed at work and joked with people. One of my work guys started openly hitting on me and if he wasn't such a Lech I would think he was joking. He was telling me how he had been trying to avoid hooking up and really dating. It had been 3 months since he'd done the dirty with some barely legal brainless bimbo. The blank look in his eyes made him ask "How long for you?" and immediately I muttered "Almost a year." He laughed at my quick response but it got me thinking.............
Am I never going to have sex again? The idea of not dating was welcome but never having sex again... EVER? My mind started betraying me almost at once. I started having little fantasies about a guy I noticed at Whole Foods, then a mystery man I would meet if I ever moved to Oregon and opened a book store that I could ride an ATV to through the glorious woods, then a hot baby I met in Iowa who was the friend of my baby second cousin, then even the Serial Killer at work (thank God that only lasted two days or I would never be able to look at him again), then Trey Parker from South Park, then Opie who got killed off Sons of Anarchy. I am officially going mad.
The safety of these little fantasies is that they will never happen. But what the hell am I supposed to do with my life if I never get to have sex again? Inevitably, sex complicates things. You can't just walk up to someone and say "Hi, would you like to have some sex tonight?" Well, I suppose you can. But then you are stuck with finding out what their name is and the whole should we kiss, should we cuddle. It just leads to feelings which leads in two directions: Dating or Rejection. I have had enough of both therefore I guess I was destined not to ever get my freak on again.
Perhaps I screwed myself out of the option by the copious amounts of sex I had in my 20's. Pun intended.
Fate declared upon my 30th birthday that should I buy a cat, which I did, that the male species would no longer wish to get me naked. Fate decided I had had enough orgasms and should now look forward to solitude and taking care of my mother in her old age, which she promises me is looming very near.
Ugh. So after reading some romance novels, shut up Chloe, I went back online and looked at the prospects. There had been an email from a cop in CG over ten days ago that I hadn't seen because frankly I never go on there anymore. I emailed back. He isn't chatty, this one, but responds pretty quickly. I winked and emailed some others, not really caring about the entire ordeal.
Cop states very clearly in his profile and again in email that he is ready to settle down, get married and have kids. He'snot originally from CG so I don't know him. After several emails he gave me his number, blah blah we text and he wants to see me tonight after I clean. WTF. Ok, calm down. This isn't going to be like last time. Meet him, in your baggy jeans and t shirt, see what his deal is, and go home. The end.
However, he has a name like Herbert, that is not Herbert, but I can't imagine screaming it out impassioned in bed. I would start laughing hysterically and as I have already discovered, men do not like that when they are trying to get it on. But what would I say? If he has manly last name, would I use that? A nickname perhaps? Future mothers, as sick as it may seem, please consider the dilema you would create should you name your future son something like Eggbert or Norville.
Normally I am so nervous I can't see straight. I think after the non-feeling relationship with Scotty, discovering that the EX is happily married, and being dumped by Work Guy after discovering that the Principal who wanted to marry me would never have worked out..... I'm devoid of feeling. Because if you can't feel, you can't get crushed into a million tiny pieces. You CAN, however, have sex :-)
I'm ok with giving up on the idea of true romance with happily ever after, but I don't think I should give up on some nookie until I reach 40. (I reserve the right to reconsider that at 40.)
Sometimes I think my writing is a way for me to get it all out there without having to feel like I'm interrupting someone else's air time...
Sigh. I have resigned myself to the fact that I am just one of those people who will not meet the love of their life, get married and happily spurt offspring. I like my life coming home to a house full of animals that occasionally love me, reading, and not having to wonder what someone else is thinking all the time.
That being said, I was feeling content rather than depressed for a change. I laughed at work and joked with people. One of my work guys started openly hitting on me and if he wasn't such a Lech I would think he was joking. He was telling me how he had been trying to avoid hooking up and really dating. It had been 3 months since he'd done the dirty with some barely legal brainless bimbo. The blank look in his eyes made him ask "How long for you?" and immediately I muttered "Almost a year." He laughed at my quick response but it got me thinking.............
Am I never going to have sex again? The idea of not dating was welcome but never having sex again... EVER? My mind started betraying me almost at once. I started having little fantasies about a guy I noticed at Whole Foods, then a mystery man I would meet if I ever moved to Oregon and opened a book store that I could ride an ATV to through the glorious woods, then a hot baby I met in Iowa who was the friend of my baby second cousin, then even the Serial Killer at work (thank God that only lasted two days or I would never be able to look at him again), then Trey Parker from South Park, then Opie who got killed off Sons of Anarchy. I am officially going mad.
The safety of these little fantasies is that they will never happen. But what the hell am I supposed to do with my life if I never get to have sex again? Inevitably, sex complicates things. You can't just walk up to someone and say "Hi, would you like to have some sex tonight?" Well, I suppose you can. But then you are stuck with finding out what their name is and the whole should we kiss, should we cuddle. It just leads to feelings which leads in two directions: Dating or Rejection. I have had enough of both therefore I guess I was destined not to ever get my freak on again.
Perhaps I screwed myself out of the option by the copious amounts of sex I had in my 20's. Pun intended.
Fate declared upon my 30th birthday that should I buy a cat, which I did, that the male species would no longer wish to get me naked. Fate decided I had had enough orgasms and should now look forward to solitude and taking care of my mother in her old age, which she promises me is looming very near.
Ugh. So after reading some romance novels, shut up Chloe, I went back online and looked at the prospects. There had been an email from a cop in CG over ten days ago that I hadn't seen because frankly I never go on there anymore. I emailed back. He isn't chatty, this one, but responds pretty quickly. I winked and emailed some others, not really caring about the entire ordeal.
Cop states very clearly in his profile and again in email that he is ready to settle down, get married and have kids. He'snot originally from CG so I don't know him. After several emails he gave me his number, blah blah we text and he wants to see me tonight after I clean. WTF. Ok, calm down. This isn't going to be like last time. Meet him, in your baggy jeans and t shirt, see what his deal is, and go home. The end.
However, he has a name like Herbert, that is not Herbert, but I can't imagine screaming it out impassioned in bed. I would start laughing hysterically and as I have already discovered, men do not like that when they are trying to get it on. But what would I say? If he has manly last name, would I use that? A nickname perhaps? Future mothers, as sick as it may seem, please consider the dilema you would create should you name your future son something like Eggbert or Norville.
Normally I am so nervous I can't see straight. I think after the non-feeling relationship with Scotty, discovering that the EX is happily married, and being dumped by Work Guy after discovering that the Principal who wanted to marry me would never have worked out..... I'm devoid of feeling. Because if you can't feel, you can't get crushed into a million tiny pieces. You CAN, however, have sex :-)
I'm ok with giving up on the idea of true romance with happily ever after, but I don't think I should give up on some nookie until I reach 40. (I reserve the right to reconsider that at 40.)
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