Too Good to Be True

I met someone.

Someone new and exciting. Someone who said all the right things and painted a beautiful picture of love and life. Someone who was amazed by my beauty. Someone who said I was all the things he hoped for and wished for but never thought existed.

And a few months later, he was gone.

In his place was an insecure man. A jealous man. A self-sabateuer. Somene who got everything he wanted, held it in his hands, and threw it away. Admitting that he loved me and missed me and the problem wasn’t with me, but with him.

So why I am I so angry?

I feel like I was sold a false bill of goods.

I allowed myself to hope. To dream that i wouldn’t die alone. That who I was would no longer be defined by the tragedies of my life. But instead, there would be light. And love. And something good.

Silly me.

I should know better. If something seems too good to be true, it usually is.

There will be no happy ending. There will be no pretty other side.

The broken pieces of my heart. The ones he helped believe could / would learn to function again are again in pieces. I am (again) left wondering what I did to deserve being left behind.

I’m conflicted between feeling sorry for myself and yet baffled by the sheer disbelief that someone could have everything they want and walk away. Am I too much? Am I not enough? Am I too pretty? Am I not pretty enough? What is is about me that makes me so impossible to love? What is it about me that makes me so easy to walk away from?

Was Shane truly the love of my life? Will I never find that kind of love again? Are the rest of my relationships just a layover before I reach my final destination?

How do you fix something that you didn’t break? Was it reckless of me to give myself to someone before my broken heart was healed?

 

The Case of the 20-somethings

I’m not sure what it is about me that attracts younger men, but if I could bottle it and sell it to cougars I’d be rich! I have always attracted younger men and never thought of that as a problem. To be honest, I took it as a compliment. But as I’ve put more candles on my birthday cakes, I’ve become increasingly aware that something has to change. The things I used to view as advantages to dating younger men have evolved into draw-backs. Allow me to elaborate. I used to think that dating younger men was easier because they had more flexible schedules, I – being a mother and workaholic – needed someone who could work around my schedule. But the truth of the matter is, without having career and family obligations, these men did not understand why I couldn’t always be impulsive and decide to go on a road trip at the last minute or meet them for drinks at 10pm on a week night. I also realized how vast the difference is when you have an established career and your partner doesn’t. Perhaps they’re trying to establish themselves? Or finish school? Or worse, have no real career goals or motivation? All of these contribute to an inherent misunderstanding of priorities. Often times leading to the younger partner to feel left out, neglected or downright unimportant. This only leads to a feeling of guilt on my part. No one wants their partner to feel as though they’re not a priority.

Another initial advantage was personality compatibility. Younger men seemed less serious. When you’re in an executive role in your career and you’re a mother of teenagers, your life tends to be filled with serious decisions. Call me crazy, but dating should be fun! I wanted someone to go have dinner or a drink with, laugh until my cheeks hurt and have make-out sessions that last far too long. The problem with this initial theory is, these younger men tend to be interested in fun. Not only having fun in life, but solely in having fun dating.  What does that mean, kids? They weren’t really serious about me, either.

So…after my experience dating 20-somethings, I’ve decided maybe it’s time for a change. After all, the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results. And so I’ve officially ventured into the world of dating age-appropriate men.

I’m Baaaack!

As most of you know, it’s been a very long time since I’ve submitted an update. Not for lack of desire, my attention has just been focused on other aspects of my life. I stumbled across my old posts and got to reminiscing and realized how much I thoroughly enjoyed sharing my stories. Narcissistic? maybe. But I hope, if nothing more, someone can learn from my mistakes, self realizations, successes and heartbreaks and become better prepared to venture into the wild world of online dating.

Online dating has evolved since I stepped away from the game. We’re no longer tied to websites, there’s an app for that! With the onslaught of new apps available for dating from the insta-craze Tinder to Skout to LetsMeet the possibilities are endless. Never before has it been so easy to connect with total strangers and never before have we so willingly embraced the superficial. Tinder embraces and celebrates our dwindling attention spans by giving you pictures and tagline to gauge whether you’re attracted to someone or not. Once you “swipe to the right” you find out immediately if that person that you judged by a few pics, and perhaps a cheesy tag line, has also indicated he/she was attracted to you. If you’re lucky – you get matched. Now you can communicate. To be honest, there is a bit of genius in this, and I hope this catches on (take note developers). What struck me as noteworthy, is once matched you have two options presented to you. One – Send a message! That’s right, they like you and you like them…now get to talking! But the second option, Keep Playing, drives home the message that this is all a game. Our modern day Hot or Not.

Have we become this shallow? Do we underestimate the complexity of attraction? Or do we over-complicate the simplicity of it all?

I’ll be delving back into the dating world and am looking forward to updating you along the way. Perhaps even filling you in on what’s transpired since I stepped away.

Until next time!

The Worst of the Worst: Episode II

Catch up on Episode I here…

Monday night arrived and I headed to the mutually agreed upon place at the mutual agreed upon time. Before I got ready, I noticed ROBOCOP posted a new Facebook status: “Have a first date tonight that I’m really nervous about, pray to whatever god  you believe in for me.” The familiar sinking feeling returned to me again.

I arrived at our location of choice, I grabbed a seat across from ROBOCOP and ordered a drink. It’s at this point that the most awkward and random conversation I’ve had with another human being commenced.

Let me paint the picture for you: ROBOCOP was seated, his beer to the left of him and to the right there were 4 pieces of gum lined up in a very OCD-esque way. He was a bigger guy, dark spiky hair, glasses and a chin beard and there was something strange going on with his teeth – but I couldn’t get a good enough view to determine what.

The first highlight of our conversation came when he told me that he informed our waiter that he was meeting a girl he met online. So, at this point – all his facebook friends know he’s on a date that he’s nervous about AND our server knows. Perfect!

For his next act, he tells me that he showered and “used more soap” than he normally does, and then proceeded to douse himself in cologne and mouthwash.  My response to this strange statement was awkward laughter. Well, to be honest, more like a chuckle. It was awkward, nonetheless. He then called me mean and stated if someone told him the same thing on a first date that he’d be flattered.

The pauses in conversation were unsettling and I was fighting the urge to run for the door, it was during one of these awkward pauses that he made his next move. ROBOCOP informed me that he’d written some questions in advance and asked if I didn’t mind answering them. I smiled and perked up, welcoming the questions and desperately hoping this would help turn the date around. I emphatically agreed. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out several pages of hand-written questions on legal pad paper.

…SEVERAL…PAGES…

He then informs me that he wrote this list with another girl in mind, so he may skip a few questions that he already knows the answer to. I immediately offered up some advice to ROBOCOP: don’t mention another romantic interest on your first date. Every woman wants to feel special and telling me that his questions were written with another woman in mind  wasn’t information that should have been shared. He defended his actions by saying he was just trying to be honest, which I commended him for. However, there IS a difference between honesty and oversharing.

Here are some of the highlights from his list of questions:

Don’t you think Bill Murray is awesome?

• He lead off with a close-ended question, not the right way to open up a conversation of any sort.

Do you think Optimus Prime would be my friend?

Why won’t Taylor Swift write me back?

In respect to Episodes I, II & III of the Star Wars saga, why is George Lucas trying to ruin my life?

He then started referring back to this blog. Asking questions about some of my posts, and we got on the topic of first date kissing. Now, I had previously posted a blog about “Martin” in which I explain how I find it a bit of a mood-killer for a guy to ask if he can kiss me. Which made me flashback to a text he had sent earlier that day…

Probing further, he asked why I felt the way I did.  I understand some guys may not understand it so I explained why –

1) it’s a mood killer

2) I want a guy who is confident enough to make the first move

• for me – it symbolizes he’s not afraid of taking the lead. I’m not looking to date a scared and frightened boy, I want to date a confident man who knows what he wants and isn’t afraid to go after it. 

ROBOCOP then called me closed-minded and uncompassionate to the plight of a guy who may be horrified with the idea of making the first move and getting rejected.

Shucking all protocol for normalcy in regards to dating, or normal human interaction – he asks me if I’d want to go to a baseball game with him. By the time we reached this point in our date, I was checked out. I just wanted it to end.  His barrage of questions sounded like they’d been written by a 12-yr old boy with an odd affection towards Taylor Swift. So, I did the unthinkable…I made the decision to be brutally honest with ROBOCOP. There would be no “maybe” or “we’ll see” or any other type of evasive maneuvers on my part, not today! I, very quickly, responded with a simple “no”.

ROBOCOP proceeded to ask “why?”  – a question that I expected, yet hoped he wouldn’t ask.

My response: “So far, you’ve managed to call me mean (several times), uncompassionate and closed-minded. I don’t see things going any further than this meeting and I don’t want to waste your time. You’re a sweet guy, I just don’t think we’re a good fit.”

We then said our goodbyes and left the bar. Needless to say, this experience was just awful. Not only was there no attraction, but sitting at that table with ROBOCOP literally made me sick to my stomach. The conversation was spotty and awkward at best and I’d been repeatedly insulted. I was so ready to go home and take a shower to wash the stench of this disastrous date off of me.

The next morning I was consumed with guilt for rejecting him in such an upfront way. Especially knowing he had confidence issues to begin with. But I’ve been in his shoes before and I would have much rather been rejected up front than had someone pull the good, old-fashioned disappearing act on me.  I think of it like ripping off a band-aid quickly. It may hurt a bit, but I’d want to just get it over with.

This particular date reminds me of when I saw Jaws for the first time. I was terrified to get back in the water for a long time. That’s the exact feeling I have about online dating now, so I immediately took down my dating profile and felt the weight of a hundred bad first dates lifted off my shoulders. Sorry Cupid, things just aren’t working out…it’s time for me to move on.

Good-bye is too good a word for you, Cupid….so I’ll just say fare thee well. 

The Worst of the Worst: Episode I

It’s a been a while since I’ve been inspired to post something new, nothing noteworthy. Then, I met ROBOCOP. No, I don’t mean Alex Murphy or the actor who portrayed him; Peter Weller. And no, he isn’t a powerful cyborg cop either. He is a guy I met online with a very…unique…sense of humor. His Stupid Cupid alias comes from his own request to be programmed into my cell as such. (see below)

Now, upon first impressions he seemed witty and sarcastic with a very quirky, yet compatible sense of humor. Right off the bat I felt this was the kind of guy I could definitely hang out with, but had a big question mark on whether there’d be anything more than that. And here’s why – (guys take note):

1) a sense of humor is a must! and I appreciate wit and sarcasm, I speak that language fluently! BUT…if 99% of your messages and interactions are so oversaturated with deliberate humor it’s going to raise a few flags.

• too much humor can make you seem immature or as if you’re trying to hide who you really are.

2) outdated pics posted on his profile.

• it’s important to be open and honest. if you plan on meeting someone in real life, why wouldn’t you post good, quality, up to date pics of yourself. (unless you feel like you have something to hide)

Now, after sharing a few messages back and forth through a dating site, ROBOCOP asked if he could add me on Facebook. Having nothing to hide, I said yes. Not long after I received this text:

This was a bit strange…to my knowledge no one’s ever done so much research on me before meeting in real life. Maybe it’s hard to wrap my head around because I believe in getting to know someone the old fashioned way – IN PERSON. Not by stalking their Twitter account, Facebook page, blogs, LinkedIn profile, etc.

After texting for a few days it became abundantly clear that my initial suspicions were well-founded. ROBOCOP appeared to have a big confidence problem. Now, I’ve had my fair share of self-esteem woes. If you were to meet me now, you may find that hard to believe. Here’s what I’ve learned. If you’re self-aware, happy with yourself and as genuine as person as you can be – the confidence in that self-knowledge will shine through. I find people with confidence issues, like ROBOCOP, just aren’t very secure in who they are. This has VERY little to do with what you look like on the outside and EVERYTHING to do with how you feel about yourself as a person.

Just to give you an idea of what lead me to this conclusion – here are a few examples.

With each of these texts, the sinking feeling in my stomach continued to grow and grow. Confidence is a non-negotiable. If you’re not comfortable in who you are, and confident that you’re a great catch – you’re setting yourself up for failure.

At this point, we were already several days into texting, and I was sincerely hoping that meeting ROBOCOP in person would prove that I was just over-analyzing things and this guy was just as genuine as he was funny and maybe, just maybe, I was misinterpretting these red flags. After all, sarcasm doesn’t always translate well through text.

So, we decided to meet on a Monday night at a bar about halfway between us. This bar would be the setting for the absolute WORST and most awkward date I’ve ever been on.

The saga continues here…..

Once upon a time…

Once upon a time, in a magical land called Dallas there lived a beautiful, but lonely, princess. Unwilling to sit in her castle and wait for her Prince Charming to come and rescue her, she decided to actively search for her hero. And search she did, engaging many a suitor in conversation and even agreeing to date a few a long the way. But alas, our princess wasn’t meant to just stumble upon her happily ever after, she would be faced with many trials and tribulations along the way.

Our princess was approached not long ago by a potential suitor.  He was a newcomer to the kingdom and, after weeks of casual conversation through the kingdom’s message service, he extended an invitation to the princess to meet.  Night fell and our princess donned her most regal attire and hopped in her carriage for what she hoped to be a wonderful evening of conversation and a bit of flirtation.  Upon arriving at our prince’s castle, she suddenly realized something was amiss. He lived dangerously close to a dark and dreadful ravine; and as a very eerie sensation crept up her spine she found herself fighting the urge to turn her carriage around. But it was too late for our princess…for as soon as her carriage pulled to a stop, her suitor was waiting for her.

Butterflies flew circles in her stomach as she looked up to see this suitor for the first time face-to-face. And almost as quickly as they appeared, the butterflies were gone. For standing in the place of the man she thought she was meeting was a giant. Not a completely unfortunate creature. However, not the handsome prince that she hoped he might be. Towering over her he stood, 6’3 and vastly different than the images she’d seen. Older, slumped over in posture, not at all athletic as his previous messages suggested.

As the shy princess followed her suitor into his castle, she felt the overwhelming urge to run. Back to her carriage and far away from this dreadful place. But, she had come all this way and this beast was trying. Trying to be hospitable, he offered the princess a glass of wine. She respectfully declined, thinking furiously how she may be able to excuse herself from the evening. After a few minutes, she resigned to make the best of the situation.

The princess tried her best to initiate conversation, however all the suitor could do was stare. He told her he wanted to know everything about her and left it to her to ramble aimlessly about herself. The conversation was very unnatural and forced. The princess felt the already small love seat become increasingly smaller as the towering giant kept leaning in closer. Uncomfortable didn’t begin to describe how our princess felt. She continued her story that she was telling, while avoiding eye contact…gazing at a painting on his wall. And as she turned her head, she was surprised to find his face was dangerously close to hers. Shocked that he would make such a bold move, the princess scrambled back, trying to maintain her composure and grace. The suitor, undeterred, asked for a kiss. The princess quickly responded with, “I do not kiss on the first date.”

The suitor slumped back down to his side and began telling the princess about himself. Reaching over to start running his gargantuan hands through the princess’ silky tresses. The princess could no longer pretend she was interested. She thanked the suitor for his hospitality and as she said goodbye, he attempted to kiss her again. The princess narrowly escaped his attempt and headed back to her castle as quickly as her carriage could carry her.

To the princess’ delight, a message was waiting for her at her castle. Reluctant to fall into the same trap, the princess decided to wait a bit before agreeing to spend an evening with this second suitor…will he prove to be Prince Charming? Only time will tell…

Fool Me Once…

That’s the old saying, isn’t it? ” Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.” But exactly what is that instilling in us? (Assuming we’re not all perfect beings and actually make mistakes.) Should we only be allowed one mistake? Don’t get me wrong, I think there should be a limit on how many second chances are given out. Wouldn’t “turning the other cheek” be a better mantra for forgiveness? And even then, at some point…wouldn’t you run out of cheeks to turn? Now, I’m not saying I don’t believe in second chances…it’s just not often that I’m inspired to give them.

You may remember Edward. I’d written him off. Deleted from all electronic devices and de-friended on Facebook. And apart from the facebook stalking every now and again (hey, I’m not perfect!)…I was well on my way to putting it all behind me. Something I never told you about Edward is that he’s a huge New York Giants fan. Obviously, since we split I was rooting for them NOT to win the SuperBowl. Those prayers, obviously, went unanswered. But, I digress. During the big game, I received a text from an unrecognized number.

I don’t think anyone could imagine my shock when I saw who was texting me. It’s been well over a month since I heard from him…AND…during the most important football game of the year when his team was playing (and winning). My mind was baffled. Why was he texting me? Why wasn’t he out with his friends watching the game? Why did he even still have my number?

I had 50 BAZILLION questions running through my mind, then I had just one singular and deafening thought. What if? What if I got what I wanted, just not WHEN I wanted it? When Edward and I parted ways…I remember wishing we could just move past the liquor-fueled mistakes we made that night. If he would just take some time to forgive me for my behavior (and maybe think about the mistakes he’d made as well)…we could get past our little spat. Hey, we all make mistakes, and everything else with us was so good. I didn’t start picking apart all the reasons why Edward and I shouldn’t be together until I made my peace with the fact that he was long gone.

Here’s the catch: I wanted forgiveness right then and there. Either Edward forgave me and we moved on or we ended things. Black and white, cut and dry…that’s it. Childish, I know…but I wanted what I wanted and I wanted it immediately.

Edward and I texted for a little over a week before he asked to see me. Although I should be harboring a grudge towards him, I have to admit, I was really excited to be talking again. When we met, he seemed genuinely happy to see me. Greeting me with a big smile and a nice, I’ll-hold-you-for-as-long-as-I-want-to kind of hug. It was nice and comforting and I could feel the tension and anxiety melt away as we embraced. Being around each other just felt natural and, after we addressed the elephant in the room, we fell into conversation as if we’d spent no time apart.

I’m not sure what the future has in store for Edward and I, but our reunion went incredibly well. I’m not ready to put all my eggs in his basket again, but I am happy and once again looking forward to where our newly rekindled friendship may lead. Fingers crossed…

Careful What You Wish For

I’ve been on this online dating kick for a while now. Let me tell you, holding steadfast to the things you want in a potential mate is hard work. Especially when your search has  proven to be less than fruitful. In the effort of letting things develop naturally and not bombard my dates with a barrage of interview-like questions I give them the benefit of the doubt. This has proven to work for me in the past. In my most recent romantic encounter it served to be a crucial misstep on my part.

 

Bryan and I met online. He was 24, is fairly new to the Dallas area and was looking for a long term relationship. This, alone, should be refreshing and reassuring. However, my experience in the online dating world has taught me a few lessons.

Lesson#1:  if a guy is eager to jump into something long-term..WATCH OUT! A variety of things could occur,  most likely they’ll disappear unexpectedly or you’ll be suffocated with attention. In this case, it was the latter. Bryan was sweet and outwardly affectionate. For those of you who’ve read my blog in the past, you’ll know that this is something I actively seek out in a partner. This is a really good sign. BUT…you can have TOO MUCH OF A GOOD THING!

 

Lesson #2: I should trust my instincts more. In our initial conversation, Bryan would say things that  made me cringe. Nothing racist, or outlandish or even borderline offensive. Just his phrasing. (I know, I can practically see you all shaking your heads as you read this). I shook it off during those conversations, because he was smart and got my sense of humor and adored me. Disregarding that little cringe was another mistake on my part…

As we got to know each other better, Bryan asked me to come over and watch movies. Going over to a guy’s place is a big deal for me. Not only am I trusting them, but you learn so much about a person by their home. What their tastes are like, are they a tidy person, do they know how to be a good host, etc.  So I was surprised when I arrived at Bryan’s place. His living room was furnished with a computer desk and computer, a few chairs, a small tv and not much else.

close representation

I fought off my urge to run back downstairs to my car and never look back. Another mistake…

Bryan and I stayed up talking all night and had a great, stimulating conversation. We both decided to delete our dating profiles (big step for me people)…

The next day Bryan met me for lunch. He met me in my office building, I immediately went to my car (out of habit) and we went to grab lunch. When we got back we hugged and said goodbye. Now, as I said before…I have been really bad at trusting my instincts. And something told me Bryan didn’t drive here. So I fumbled around before I went into the building just long enough to see Bryan walk past my building and the next. My instincts were right! Bryan doesn’t have a car. He took the bus.

Now, any ONE of these warning signs could have been overlooked. But, as a whole? I can’t possibly continue to pursue a relationship with Bryan. It’s nothing against him. He’s a smart, funny and very sweet guy. He’s just not for me.

I struggle with that verbiage. I don’t, by any stretch of the imagination, think he’s not good enough or I’m better than him. This man, however sweet he may be, just isn’t a good match for me. I pray he understands and truly wish him the best.

If at first you don’t succeed…

If at first you don’t succeed…try try again. That’s what we’re taught as kids, right? Determination and perseverance are rewarded.  Well kids, I’m here to tell you that is NOT always the case.

This story starts as so many of mine do, with meeting a guy online. This guy shared not only a name but a profession with one of my most recent exes, *Ryan. This, coincidentally did NOT work in his favor as Ryan and I did not part on good terms. However, I was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. He was well-spoken and confident…or at least appeared that way through our communications. We spoke on the phone a few times before he asked me out for a late night cup of coffee. I agreed and so began our adventure.

We arrived at the coffee shop around 9pm. I know “you can’t judge a book by it’s cover” and all. BUT, if the cover has long hair that he wears in a ponytail…aren’t I given just a little leeway? Ryan was about 5’6, long hair, not clean shaven. Outwardly, not my type.

The coffee shop was incredibly busy. After placing our order, we grabbed our drinks and set out to find a spot on the patio. The tables outside were occupied by a group of about 7-8 kids and, remarkably, NO PARENT!  So we decided to grab a seat next door. We settled into the normal first date interview-like Q&A.  He started in with “what are your deal-breakers?” This is an interesting question to begin with. I answered with a few of my non-negotiables and he answered with a few of his. One of which was open-mindedness. Ryan has studied psychology and enjoys philosophy as well. He was looking for someone with an open mind so that when he challenges their beliefs they’re open to other concepts and possibilities.

(Throughout our discussion, the children that WERE next door to us somehow migrated to our area to run circles around our table while playing. Which wasn’t at all annoying!)

So…with the noise of the BeBe’s kids running rampant without parental supervision providing an oh-so-romantic ambiance, Ryan continued his bitter diatribe about close-minded people. Now, I enjoy debating (not arguing, yes there is a difference) and am very open-minded. So, as Ryan was preaching from his soap box about how people should be more impulsive and open-minded as opposed to controlling and planning every moment of their day, I realized something. In his philosophical pursuit of proving how we should shuck all rules regarding dating and live in the moment (are your eyes rolling? mine were), something became crystal clear to me. Ryan wasn’t open-minded and philosophical. He was close-minded. See, either you subscribed to Ryan’s belief or you were wrong. The word, hypocrite came to mind.

Although I initially started to play devil’s advocate, I decided to take a different approach after I had my epiphany. I started nodding my head. See, I could continue to disagree or try and open his mind to other possibilities or I could let him think he had converted me to his belief and try and wrap this thing up.

Ryan trailed off a bit and I guess he realized my eyes had glazed over as I was working on making a mental grocery list during his much-too-well-rehearsed-oration and asked  what I was thinking.

Now, I’d had just about all I could take with his hypocrisy-soaked speech and wasn’t about to hold back. So, I answered his question as politely as I could.

“I think you’re very long-winded. I think you preach about how more people should be open-minded when you, yourself, are close-minded. I think you need people to agree with you to validate your argument more than you need to prove a valid point. And I think it’s getting late…”

Maybe that makes me rude, but as I’ve stated in my previous posts. I’m done pulling punches and being nice for the sake of being nice. My time is much too precious to be wasted on people like Ryan. Ryan needs a woman with no mind of her own, someone who’ll allow him his rants and will agree with him and stroke his ego. I’m here to tell you, that is NOT me. And so, I leave you with this astute observation from a brilliant man…

*name has been changed to protect any chance this guy or my ex have of finding some poor woman to put up with their crap for an extended period of time.

Sorry, Wrong Trajectory

“I was once a loyal lover
Whose lips did never seek another’s
But now each love’s more like a match
A blinding spark that burns out fast” – from I Was Once A Loyal Lover by Death Cab for Cutie

It’s not often that I allow my emotions to get involved so quickly with someone. I find myself finding ways to blockade and guard parts of myself so that I don’t get hurt. It’s something we all do…because, let’s face it, self-preservation is the name of the game. There are many ways in which I’ve evolved to guard against the potential threat of heartache. My sarcasm and sense of humor are integral components to my personal arsenal. So when someone tells me I’m “damaged goods”, my initial reaction is…to laugh. Laugh hysterically. As if it doesn’t phase me at all. When in reality, it’s those exact same words I used to describe myself with…it was a long time ago…but hearing someone verbalize those exact same thoughts re-opened wounds that I thought had long been healed.

I’ve known this guy for a few months. Great guy. Amazing guy. Really smart, funny, so much fun to hang out with. We’ve been friends…just friends. I was resolved to that wholeheartedly. I knew I wasn’t his type right off the bat and truth be told, he wasn’t really mine. But there was something there, a connection. Talking to each other felt easy and natural and we have great conversations with depth and humor. One of our first conversations was about how men and women can’t be friends. See, from his perspective men are only friends with women that they’re somewhat attracted to. And if given the chance to change things, most men would risk ruining the friendship to take things to a different level. I debated with him on this point. I  have a lot of guy friends and don’t think that’s the case at all. I  mean, if he were right I now had to question every friendship I’ve had with a male. Do I think there is some truth to his argument? Yes. But not EVERY guy friend I have would take the opportunity (if given) to explore a physical relationship. So we agreed to disagree and after that first conversation. I figured, based off our little debate we’d just had, his rules obviously didn’t apply to us.

But…one day, between getting my ass kicked at Tatsumoto Vs. Capcom and and hearing him explain his fascination with zombies he tried to kiss me. Now, let it be known that my friend was DRUNK, I mean he was completely and utterly hammered. Which is why I dodged the kiss by leaning back and moving away. Ladies, you know the move.  I knew my friend was feeling lonely and sad and was not at all in his right frame of mind. I also knew he’d never attempt to make a move on me if he was completely sober. (Like I said earlier, I knew I wasn’t his type). Well, against my better judgement I started drinking with him. Misery loves company, doesn’t it? So it only took a few more attempts on his part until I gave in and let him kiss me. It was a good kiss, but more importantly (for both of us, I think) it was comforting. We continued drinking and of course the more we drank the more things escalated. Until he was laid out before me in his best Playgirl pose.

Needless to say, my friend was right. Men and women can’t just be friends. At least we couldn’t. The day after one of our ill-advised sleepovers my friend told me he had a date lined up that night. I thought nothing of it. I mean, I was dating other people too. I knew whatever it was between us wasn’t something either of us were interested in pursuing. We were really just meant to be friends and we both were fully aware of that fact

But the next day I texted my friend. He was traveling to California, for business, and I wanted to wish him a safe trip.

One might think that because I’d already resolved in my mind that our friendship was definitely not headed towards relationship station that I wouldn’t be bothered by this at all. I mean, obviously I want my friend to be happy. He’s a really great guy and I wish him all the best in the world..he deserves it. I also know he wouldn’t do anything to intentionally hurt me. But there was something about the words he chose combined with the things he’d said in the past that made me feel…broken. Don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t doodling his name on my binder or naming our unborn children. Far from it actually. Maybe, just maybe, my recent breakup with Edward and my subsequent vulnerability made me read something into this message that wasn’t intended to be there. Because when I read that text, here’s what I saw:

Now, I don’t want you thinking I’m this silly little girl who has no self confidence of sense of self-worth. I am a very confident person. I’m outspoken and opinionated and I’m not afraid to go out and get what I want. I know I deserve better than I sometimes give myself credit for. I am smart and funny and I’m a blast to be around. A loyal and very supportive friend. I am a most-trusted confidant and to the people I love I am often their biggest cheerleader. I know I have a lot to offer. But we all have days when doubt and suspicion sneak in and wreak havoc on our egos. This was one of those days.

I allowed myself to believe…just for a second… that maybe, my friend was right. Maybe I’m not marriage material. Maybe I’m not girlfriend material. Maybe I am damaged goods. I mean, let’s face it, if he is right that would explain my string of bad luck in the relationship department and why I’ve been single for so long. Not to mention why he would have no problem letting me share his bed knowing we were “better off as friends”. Yes, I’m sure alcohol had a lot to do with that decision making process, but I was one tiara short of being queen of this pity party.

Then I remembered something. He never said those things about me. I did. I said those things to myself a long time ago. I allowed myself to believe they were true. And there was something about the words my friend chose to use that brought back those thoughts.

I wished my friend the best of luck with his new girl and left it at that. I don’t expect to see, or hear from, him for a while. Again, maybe I’m reading too much into the context of his text but it seemed like goodbye to me.

I know, as adults, we’re inclined to enter into friendships with benefits to help ease our loneliness. But never underestimate the power or establishing some key ground rules though. Safe sex isn’t always just about wearing a condom. It’s about protecting yourself.

Here’s what I know, it is said the road to hell is paved with good intentions.  I know my friend never intended to hurt me. I know he didn’t intend for me to interpret things the way I did. I put myself in a morally compromising position and became emotionally compromised as well.

Lesson learned.

Out with the old…

Happy New Year readers and welcome back to my crazy dating life! Things have been a little quiet on the blog-front as of late and for good reason. For the past several weeks I’ve been seeing someone. {take a minutes to pick your collective jaws up from the floor} Edward and I met over the Thanksgiving break and quickly hit it off after a few weeks of texting. Meeting in person took a little longer than usual. See, he lives over an hour away (normally well outside my dating radius). This is a rule I’ve been flirting with breaking due to my inconsistent results as of late and since Edward seemed so sweet I figured now was the time. So I met him out in Arlington for our first date. Immediately we were attracted to each other. We chatted a bit, played some pool and darts. After my incredible come-from-behind win at darts, he went in for a kiss. It was sweet and soft, the perfect first kiss. I was cautiously optimistic…but optimistic nonetheless. The next several weeks Edward and I didn’t go more than a few days without texting or talking and went on several dates that all went very well. We liked each other, got along well, I even met a few of his friends. He wasn’t afraid of a little public display of affection (which I love) and we even started kicking around ideas for his upcoming 30th birthday in late January. All in all, things were going really well. Edward’s parents were going to visit his sister in South Carolina for Christmas so he was going to be alone. So, I made plans for me to go over to his place for the first time on the night of the 25th. And here’s where things started to rapidly unravel… I arrived at Edward’s house around 7pm. After a few wrong turns down dirt roads…I came up to his address. I knew he lived far away, but I wasn’t planning on an hour and 20 minute drive to his place. Warning sign#1. I walked in, Edward was watching a movie. He greeted me and sat back down, seemingly disinterested that I was there. After a little probing, he told me his parents didn’t even call to wish him a Merry Christmas. He was obviously a little upset about it, and rightfully so. However, he did perk up when his best friend texted him inviting us to join him at a bar. So, Edward got ready to go out and I entertained myself by perusing the pictures that aligned his walls. We arrived to the bar and quickly found Edward’s best friend, Daniel. Against my better judgment, we started the night off by doing shots. We drifted over towards Daniel’s group of friends and I fully expected Edward to introduce me. When he didn’t, I chalked it up to his shitty mood and introduced myself. If I was going to be stuck here I might as well have a good time. Edward definitely seemed more interested in hanging out with Daniel than me, which did not sit well with me at all. I quickly decided to stop playing wallflower and just go and insert myself into their conversation. Almost immediately, Daniel started flirting with me. Making increasingly inappropriate advances…even getting a little handsy at times. When the bar closed Edward, Daniel and I went back to Edward’s house. This wasn’t exactly what I had in mind for our night, but my car was parked at his house so I was at the mercy of the man and his plans. We arrived back to his cozy little love shack and proceeded to do shots (a terrible decision on my part, but I was obviously not in the right frame of mind). Daniel continued to flirt with me to the point that it made me upset. I went to the restroom to collect myself, which turned into tears in my inebriated state. That’s when the bourbon started to make things a little fuzzy.

Here’s what I know: I got upset…and cried. (I hate crying, by the way) Edward came in and we argued. He admitted that he asked Daniel to hit on me “as a test”. Oh, and by the way, I failed. This new-found information didn’t set my mind at ease, it enraged me. A TEST?! seriously? What kind of guy asks his best friend to hit on the girl he’s seeing to “see how she’ll react”? I mean, give me some credit….if…IF… I were going to cheat on Edward, I’m not stupid enough to cheat on him with his best friend right in front of him!

I called one of my good friends to vent about what was going on…got my boo-hoo’s out of my system and Edward agreed to let me stay until I sobered up. I don’t remember our entire conversation, but apparently I said some things I wouldn’t have normally said. Because of my drunken state, I actually felt guilty about the happenings of that night. I left things alone for a few days, then texted Edward to apologize. I told him I was sorry for the way in which I handled things in my drunken state and would like the opportunity to make it up to him, but if not I wish him the best. Then promptly deleted him from my Facebook and my phone. It wasn’t until I told this story to a few close friends (including John) that I realized that I had ABSOLUTELY nothing to apologize for! Why was I upset? Because I was losing a guy who lives an hour and a half away? and has his best friend hit on the girl he’s seeing to “test her”?!

Moral of the story – don’t allow yourself to get so swept up in the chemistry that you neglect learning about each other.

Truth be told, I’m not upset about things ending with Edward. Obviously we weren’t a good match. I was more upset because I lost something I hadn’t experienced in a long time. Hope. Hope that the relationship may turn into something, that it just might lead somewhere. I’m not saying this experience has left me jaded and I’ve lost all hope in finding someone. Actually it’s made me realize that I deserve much more than I have been settling for.

Revenge of the Nerd

By now it should come as no surprise to any of my readers that I have some pretty piss-poor luck when it comes to first dates and, lucky for you, today’s entry is no exception to the rule.  I received a message about a week ago from Louis. He seemed like a pretty normal guy based off his profile. There weren’t any pics of him without his shirt on or in a bar with a bunch of scantily clad ladies hanging on him posted on his profile. He was a bit on the nerdy side but, then again, so am I. His first message to me was this:

INTJ woman who is an Aries 
ENFP man who is a Libra 

Wow can you get anymore opposite then that?

Any previous inclination that I had regarding the level of Louis’ nerd status was grossly underestimated by his first message. But I figured what harm was there is getting to know someone.

We messaged back and forth for a few days and had a great conversation on the phone that lasted about an hour and a half. Let it be known, I’m a big fan of someone who can hold my attention in conversation. The thought of finding someone I can have a really great conversation with, the kind where you lose track of time, is very exciting to me. Louis seemed like he may fit the bill, and he asked me out for drinks on Saturday night. I agreed and suggested we go to The Filmore Pub. (this wasn’t my first trip to The Filmore: read about “Spanky” here ).

Louis sent me a confirmation text earlier on Saturday firming up our plans. I arrived to The Filmore a bit early and found a table facing the door and waited, expecting to receive a text when he arrived. 15 minutes later I received a text from him saying he really liked the place and atmosphere. So I texted him back, asking if he was at the pub already and gave it a few minutes for him to respond. Then I called him and asked where he was. His response, “right behind you”. I was more than a little perturbed by the situation, but slapped on a smile and figured I’d make the best of it. So I pulled up the bar stool next to him and sat down.

When you meet your date in person for the first time, there’s a natural reaction to give them the good ol’ “once over”. Assess the situation, if you will. Although my assessment was brief, here is what I could tell. This guy had zero fashion sense. He was wearing a black and beige striped shirt, a beige micro-fiber collared jacket with pleated cuffs and pleated khakis with tennis shoes. But, never one to wholly judge a book by it’s cover…I kept my mind open.

semi-accurate depiction of Louis

I quickly settled into conversation with Louis. I could tell that he was a very smart guy, a non-conformist with a natural curiosity that he cultivated regularly. Explaining to me his interests in spirituality, building a backyard aquaponics system, his 3yr old son, psychology, etc. All in all the conversation went well.

We paid our tabs and he offered to walk me to my car. When we arrived he made his move and went in for the kill. It was a nice first kiss. Sweet and simple, as it should be. I asked him where he parked and he was pretty far so I offered to drop him off at his car. He climbed into the passenger seat and we talked a bit, during which time it became evident that Louis was D-R-U-N-K. I mean, his speech was slurred and he had those half-open eyes working. It was bad. So, I told him I wasn’t comfortable with him driving home. I’d be willing to drop him off if he was cool getting a ride back to his truck in the morning. He agreed.

I asked him for his address to plug into my GPS so I could find his place and he merely provided me with his cross streets. Well, my GPS did not like that so I had to rely on his directions. After making several u-turns we finally made it to his place and I was dying to use the ladies room. So he graciously let me in, but before doing so confessed to me that he lives with his parents.  But, mother nature was calling and I had to answer so I took him up on his offer. He then led me to his bedroom and we sat on his bed and talked, which led to a kiss. This time it wasn’t soft and sweet, something shifted as if that kiss triggered some type of slimy beast that lay dormant inside of Louis. He became very aggressive, kissing me much deeper and harder than before and grabbing my breasts with surprising force (even growling several times). This kiss was slimy and a bit repulsive.  So I gently pushed him over to his side of the bed suggesting he get some sleep.

imagine kissing this

As I drove back home I came to a few conclusions and revisions to my dating policy.

1. Never go to The Filmore. I have the worst luck with dates there.

2. If a guy’s too drunk to drive, get him a cab. You never know who to trust.

3. Maybe the old adage is true.

But…what happens if you run out of frogs?

Cupid’s Black Friday

It was Black Friday and I was nursing my food hangover and waking up from my tryptophan induced coma. I don’t play with the crowds who shop on the most notorious of retail holidays thanks to my experience as a retail store manager, so I was being lazy and getting increasingly restless at home. After all, there’s only so much bad TV one can watch! So I desperately needed to get out of the house…I needed a Black Friday Date.

Lucky for me, I’d been talking to a new guy online. Here’s a little about him: his name is Josh, he’s 29, plays rugby, is 6′ tall…so far so good. Oh, and he plays guitar and wears glasses. I don’t know what it is about this combination, but I’m a sucker for it. So, when Josh asked me to meet him on Friday night, I was excited. (Not quite sure if the excitement was due to my restlessness or meeting him). Josh wanted to meet at a bar near Uptown, which is a bit of a trek for me – but I agreed and headed out on the 45minute drive to meet Mr. Wonderful.

I arrive at the questionable establishment that Josh had picked out called The Grapevine.  Although Josh lives 10 minutes away, I managed to beat him there. It was an strange layout and a bit crowded so I went back to the patio and found a table for us and waited for my date. He showed up about 15 minutes later. Immediately he grabbed a double vodka tonic from the bartender and we found a table to sit down and chat.

I start probing Josh for information about himself, typical first date stuff. Where are you from? What do you do for fun? How’d you get into rugby? etc. I found out that he was married, divorced recently. He has a daughter and he splits custody with his ex.  He also told me about his travels while in the Navy. Yes, I dated another seaman. {insert Beavis and Butthead laugh here}. During his travels with the Navy he and his friend had some interesting adventures. One of which was in China. His friend preferred to stay in and order hookers as entertainment whereas Josh preferred to go out.

He then goes into this long story about his close encounters of the prostitute kind. Now midway through Josh’s story he pulls out his phone. And as he’s reading a text I notice something….

Okay, maybe he didn’t smell like potato chips. But he definitely had freakishly small hands. It’s weird and kind of makes me shudder. After Josh read his text he explained to me that it was from “this girl I met a long time ago at a party.” He explains that he gave her his number and she always texts him when she’s drunk. Then turns the screen to show me how many unanswered texts she’s sent him. At this point, I’m mentally checked out of the date based off the hooker stories I’ve just endured and to add insult to injury he decides to text her back.

Now, he’s on his second drink…I’m not drinking at all…and he’s texting some random drunk girl. He looks up at me and tells me when he’s done with his drink, he’s “outta here”. I’m oh-so-ready to leave, so I lie and tell him it was nice meeting him and head back home.

Total time span of date: 1hr

Total travel time: 1 hr and 20 minutes (round trip)

I can usually find some redeeming quality in the guys I meet  but this guy was inconsiderate, ill-mannered, self-absorbed and immature. I hope he met his drunk text girl and they live unhappily ever after.

As for me? I’m no longer agreeing to meet someone just for the sake of it. My time is far too precious to be wasted.

Open Mouth, Insert Foot

I met a man.

A man named John.

John sent me a pretty basic Hi message on OkCupid. In John’s pics he appeared to be a fun-loving guy, so I messaged him back. Almost immediately we exchanged numbers and started texting. After a few texts back and forth over the span of a week’s time John asked me out for dinner. His suggestion was Maggiano’s on Friday night.

Friday arrived and John called around 6 to confirm dinner reservations were made for 830pm. I met John at Maggiano’s, he greeted me with a friendly hug and we waited for our table. John was tall, very nice build and was a complete gentleman.  Upon meeting, he apologized to me. For what, you may ask? John is currently looking for work. He’s been home from the Navy for a few months and he is currently being pursued by a company in Iowa. Iowa?! Yes, Iowa. That’s where he grew up and his parents still live there. He tells me he’s in the middle of interviewing with this Iowa-based company and is flying out on Monday for the final round of interviews. Seeing this as an opportunity to have a different dating experience, I was oddly okay with the information. So, after we were seated, we ordered a glass of wine and appetizers and settled into the normal first date Q&A.

As our food arrived, John asked if  I minded praying with him before eat. So we joined hands and bowed our heads in prayer before diving in.  Yes, it was a bit awkward…but I found it admirable that he had such strong beliefs. John was not only attractive, but well mannered and well-spoken. He told me of his experiences in the Navy, sharing with me how he broke his leg in Turkey and the hellish ordeal that ensued afterwards to get him all fixed up. Seeing that John was most likely moving to Iowa soon, I chose to tell him about the blog. For obvious reasons, I typically choose NOT to bring this up on dates. He seemed genuinely intrigued and engrossed in my stories of some of my worst dating experiences and he, in turn, shared with me some of his. The conversation was effortless and we both seemed at ease with each other.  We got on the topic of women messaging men and how rare it is. John’s theory was these women weren’t getting a lot of messages so they had to be a bit more forward than others. Somehow in his explaining of what he looks for in a woman we got on the topic of single moms. John went on to explain, “I don’t have anything against single moms, I just don’t want to raise someone else’s kids…I mean, I don’t want to say damaged goods…but…”

At this point, I could no longer bite my tongue. I interjected with, “please stop talking…seriously, pleeeeease stop” and subsequently erupted in laughter. John was understandably taken aback by my sudden outburst of laughter and my interruption. So after I gathered myself I told him that I am a single mom.

John’s reaction? “No you’re not! If I saw that on your profile I never would have messaged you”. I had to go so far as to pull out my phone, pull up the dating site app and verify with him that my profile left that question unanswered. Here’s why: John doesn’t want to “raise anyone else’s kids.” I get it, dating a single mother is tough and it’s just not ideal for some guys. I went on to explain to John that my kids are teenagers. I’m not looking for someone to raise them. Most of the work has already been done. And I made a point to give him a helpful hint to NEVER use the terminology “damaged goods” regarding mothers.

We had a good laugh about the whole situation and continued to enjoy the evening and carry on our great conversation. When the night came to an end, John walked me out to my car and we said goodbye.

Other than the slight faux pas on his part, John was a perfect gentleman and I will credit him this: he made NO promises. I knew at the beginning of the date that he may soon be moving and he learned during our date that I don’t chase guys. The ball was in his court.

John texted a few times since our date but, as suspected, I haven’t seen him since. I wish him the best of luck on his search…and for this girl? My search continues…

Here I Go Again…Again

As you well know, I recently dated Mr. Nice Guy. A very sweet, conservative salt-of-the-earth guy that may or may not have been a little too vanilla for my tastes. Well, after a few weeks of sporadic texting Mr. Nice Guy asked me out on date #2.  (to see what happened on date #1 – click here)

Mr. Nice Guy recalled from previous conversation that I was starting a new job soon and wanted to take me out to celebrate. The plan was to meet at his place on Saturday and go to Whiskey Cake Restaurant for dinner, then back to his place to watch World Series Game 3. (For those of you who don’t know me, I’m a huge Texas Rangers baseball fan – so watching the game was a non-negotiable.)

I get to Mr. Nice Guy’s apartment wearing jeans, an off the shoulder grey striped shirt and 4″ heels. Mr. Nice Guy opened the door wearing a nice button up shirt, jeans and barefeet. He invited me in to see some changes he’d made to his office, grabbed some shoes and we headed to dinner. I mention this because I was taller than Mr. Nice Guy in the heels I had on. Which is kind of a turn off for me. But, I digress….

We get to Whiskey Cake and order a few glasses of whiskey, settling into what I hoped to be a nice conversation. It turned out to be a very awkward conversation, I felt like we were on a first date all over again. Which is strange, because our conversation on the first date was very easy and effortless. Never one to shy away from my own advice, I had to address the awkward vibe. We laughed about it, he admitted he was a bit nervous…I mean, it had been about a month since our first date, and we carried on with our dinner. After splitting desert, we went back to his place to watch the game.

Now I, like most baseball fans, am a bit superstitious and brought my lucky baseball shirt with me. So as soon as we got back to his apartment, I slipped out of my heels and changed shirts so that I could comfortably watch the game. Mr. Nice Guy offered me a glass of wine or a beer. I chose a Left Hand Milk Stout  and he chose a Dogfish India Brown Ale. (Yes, we are both beer snobs, it’s part of what makes us awesome.) Mr. Nice Guy settled in on his side of the brown leather couch to watch the game and I settled into the opposite side. If you were to look in on us watching the game intensely from polar opposite sides of that couch, you would have assumed there was no chemistry. And, to be quite frank, I felt like maybe Mr. Nice Guy lost interest in those few weeks apart.

The game started looking pretty ugly for us Texas Rangers fans so I decided to stand up and watch. Going into the kitchen to rinse out my glass, I began watching from his kitchen counter. Never one to be a bad host, he got up and joined me in the kitchen. Asking if I’d like another drink and offering to uncork a bottle of wine. We selected a nice Pinot Noir and he poured us both a glass. As I leaned forward onto the counter, he came up behind me and began massaging my back. Very lightly at first, as if he thought me too delicate. It was really nice, and very sweet. As I stood up and turned around he greeted me with a hug…staring into me intently before his lips found mine. This is the part where my memory kicked in and I braced for the “AWESOME” that he continuously said the first time we kissed. But, Mr. Nice Guy switched his game up a bit. This time, it was “Wow!”

We had a bit of make-out fun and after that depressing game was over, I went home.

Sidenote: turns out that Mr. Nice Guy was suffering from strep throat and wasn’t completely over it when we hung out. So…guess who had a nasty case of strep this week? You guessed right kids, I do!! Mr. Nice Guy has been very thoughtful and apologetic. Checking in to see how I’ve been feeling all week. <insert collective “aww…how sweet” here>

Afterthought: Is it okay to continue to see Mr. Nice Guy knowing he may be TOO nice? Is that really a deal-breaker?