Gwen Stefani said it best in Bathwater: Why do the good girls always want the bad boys?
It is the age old question. By a certain age - shouldn't we have gotten our hearts broken enough by the wrong type to know better? Why do we fool ourselves into thinking we want/need/crave the stable and reliable man, but look the other way when he notices us? We pine over the guy who doesn't call us. Wonder why we weren't asked out for that second date. We sleep with him too soon in hopes that the sex is enough to lure him back for more. It isn't. Then we sit in a funk and wonder where it is all going wrong as we soothe our wounded soul with chocolate fro yo with sprinkles.
In the meantime; we don't give a chance to Mr. Reliable. There is always some flaw that repels us. He's too fat or too thin. He isn't cute enough. He isn't smart enough. He doesn't wear the right brands. Damnit I am fabulous and gorgeous and I can do better! In the end though - can you? If you could - why haven't you?
Thus the perplexing conundrum I find myself in. Coast Guard Guy is out of the picture. I don't have time for hot guys who are only interested in the chase. My Hot Housemate while seeming to be back on track from his trainwreck lifestyle isn't what I want. Then there is Boot Camp Guy. BCG isn't the guy you normally look twice at. He is a year older than me. His hair is thinning with a bald spot, he doesn't wear the name brand shoes and wears black socks when he works out. He's a nice guy though and probably in the best shape out of all of us in the group. I happened to find him on one the horrible dating site that I can't seem to quit because I'm an attention whore and sent him a teasing message. This was of course after I texted my trainer about finding him there. She was all over it telling me I should go out with him because he's a REALLY NICE GUY. There are those words again. What I want, but won't give a chance to.
So we have been sending messages back and forth for about four days and it turns out we have a lot in common. He is smart, has good grammar, plays PC video games and is an avid mountain bike rider. I am all of the above except the mountain bike rider because while I have one - I am a sissy girl who doesn't ever go off the street unless I am cutting through grass. He's quite interesting. We are basically two introverted geeks. I just have better hair.
Then my blonde angel got involved in the conversation and she too decided that I should go out with him because he was smart and looked outdoorsy. (She got this from stalking his facebook profile). I sent him a message telling him our trainer was pulling for us to go out and he said he was totally oblivious to that fact. Then he asked me out. The part of me who was trying to be open minded and not a diva was thrilled. The diva part of me questioned why would I even consider it - not so much. Nice guys bore me. I'm a drama mama - I don't know how to deal with status quo.
While we were doing out boot camp yesterday - I could barely acknowledge him because I didn't know how to act. Nobody ever said social skills were my strong suit. So when I got home, I messaged him back accepting his offer. I mean he has seen me balling my eyes out because I couldn't do side planks and felt extremely defeated. He has seen me a hot, sweaty mess and making strained faces because the workout was insane. That is technically seeing me at my worst only short of having the flu. Even if all it became was a friendship - he is a really good guy. Who knows - it might be the kind of relationship where it grows on you and you don't realize how much it means until you are knee deep into it.
If you are a regular reader - you know that when it comes to affairs of my own heart - I am pretty much clueless. I mean it is called Being Single is the New Black for a reason. It can be taken two ways. Being single is as fab as my bed head on any given morning, or it can be as dark as my soul when I feel I have been scorned. I've been single for two years now and am probably ready for a real relationship - I just don't think a real relationship is ready for me. Coast Guard Guy is singular proof of that statement!
I get some interesting requests in the email box associated with the blog. I get a lot of requests for book reviews which I would LOVE to do if I had the time. I have been asked to link other's peoples pages to my site which I won't unless I LOVE their site and then I put it on the Fab Reads section. Most recently though - I was told because of my blog; I would be a good fit to give relationship advice at Wizpert.com. Once I picked myself off the floor from laughing hysterically at the notion - I decided what the heck. If you know me personally you KNOW how much I love giving my opinion and seriously - what haven't I experienced in life? I've been married and divorced. I was a slut in my twenties and a prude in my forties. I had a guy who came over to have sex fell asleep in my bed before anything happened and I have endured more horrible coffee interrogations than any one person should have to. I've been in love with my best friend, only to see him marry someone else and not be invited to the wedding and I've broken a few hearts myself. I've been date raped and had a couple of threesomes - I've pretty much spanned the globe of experience.
So now not only am I the self proclaimed Queen of the Blogosphere - I am officially a Wizpert who specializes in Dating and Relationship advice. I even have a new badge for the blog to prove it! (I am a whore for blog badges!) They do say - those who can't do - teach and I have more than proven I dating isn't my own forte! So if you are DYING for my "expert" (yes I am STILL giggling maniacally over that) opinion on your dating or relationship woes - just click on my picture to your left (no your OTHER left) and if I am available - I will give it my best shot! Who wouldn't want my own personal spin on their life? I'm getting pretty good at it!
If you have learned anything about me in the past year and a half - you know that I tend to obsess just a wee bit and perhaps maybe I don't know how to leave well enough alone. Anything that is mature or grown up is a foreign concept to me, and I have no patience when I want something. Sadly, I am wired like a guy despite the fabulous hair and great rack. The concept of feminine tends to be lost on me. I never remember to close my legs in a skirt or dress getting out of the car, I never remember to let the man get the door for me and I go after what I want instead of demurely waiting for it to come to me. Patti Stanger describes it as "male energy".
This makes my thing with the new guy VERY hard on me. I'm torn between over analyzing every detail on the inside, while playing it cool on the outside. It took me a really long time to warm up to the idea of letting him in. Something seemed off. I couldn't put my finger on it, but he was persistent. Yet as soon as I threw in the towel, all the promises made in the art of woo went floating away with the ocean breeze. So when he attempted to waltz back in a few weeks ago I told him as long as he was serious - it was game on, otherwise don't waste my time. Not that I have anything else going on in the romance department - but HE doesn't need to know that. The problem is that the feeling of something off is still haunting me. He acts like he is into me, but can't really make time for me. Once again - it's me suggesting times and more times than not he isn't available. When we did have plans for a Saturday; he decided to help a friend with his house and cancelled on me when it got late. There was no mention of helping this friend when we made the original plans. He never calls - he only texts even though I told him he could now. (When this whole thing started last year - he wasn't allowed to call because I was always at the ex's house.)
Yesterday he told me via text that he was spacing out the times we see each other so there was no burnout factor. WTF? In all my years of dating and casual sex - NEVER has the thought of something burning out ever crossed my mind when something was new. Am I just being my usual over analytical self? I questioned him on it and have yet to get a response which makes me even more suspicious.
I blame Greg Behrendt, co-author of He's Just Not That Into You. If you are single lady and have not read this book - YOU MUST. It is written by a former player who used every trick in the book and basically breaks it down for you. It also spawned a movie of the same name that might possibly be my fav chick flick despite me generally hating chick flicks. The bottom line message from the book is that if a guy really likes you and is indeed into you - he will make it happen Now I know there are exceptions - but the problem is - we as women tend to think we are the exception; when the actuality of it is - we are the rule.
I brought it up to the ex who shoots straight and doesn't sugar coat anything. He said it's one of two things. He is dating someone else too and doesn't want me to know. This is no big deal to me - I expect it. It's still new and no commitments have been made. The ex said that guys don't want to deal with the jealously drama, so it's just easier to make stuff up that sounds good. He also said the flip side is that maybe it's true, but then do I really want to date someone who has to be apart from me to want to be with me? In the end he said the same thing - if he REALLY wanted to be with me - he'd be making it happen instead of excuses as to why it is not.
So now I'm stuck wondering what do I do? I mean it isn't like I have men busting down my door to date me. Do I wait it out and see what happens? Do I blow him off the next time (if there is a next time) he decides he can make time and tell him I have a date? Come on - I'm almost 43 years old. These games don't seem much different then when I was in my twenties.
So here is the reader participation time. What do YOU think I should do because obviously I am clueless!
Every month I tell myself "This is it girl, THIS is your month". Then some sort of catastrophic failure rears it's head and makes a liar out of me. I believe the problem was that I was swimming in a sea of negativity while trying to keep my head above water with positive arm floaties. The smartest decision I ever made was to go onto the anti-depressant. Now that I am about to start my third month on them - I have managed to cleanse those negative waters and swim freely in positivity. This is a strange concept for me and even stranger to my friends who expect Hurricane Kathy and instead get Summer Breeze Kathy. It's a beautiful thing. May into June 1 was a great month for me.
I have learned that I cannot let toxic people into my life no matter how much I care about them. I have a friend who I am just watching fall into a downward spiral and the thing is, I can't do anything for him. I know from my own experiences that until you are ready to get help or do something about it - there is nothing to be done. I used to gravitate to those types, thinking I could fix them. If I could focus on how messed up their lives were, I wouldn't have to focus on how messed up mine was. This time, I walked away. I pushed his advances towards me away. There was a time I really wanted to date him; but now I see the train wreck he is becoming and I don't need that. I have finally emerged from my own trainwreck and left it there to smoulder on the tracks.
As previously written in I Just Hope I Keep the Donkey Booty, I have been going to gym rather religiously. About five times a week to be exact (until I was sidelined by throwing my back out during a bootcamp workout - but even then I still managed to go four times). I hired a personal trainer and the results are noticeable. My legs look awesome. When I look down, I see my toes and not my stomach. My posture is straighter. After 30 days of all that work - I had officially lost five and a half pounds. That is right on track to where I am supposed to be. Weekends I find are the hardest, because I have less structure and always find myself hungrier, but I am doing the best that I can. Sadly, I have to break up with my trainer because I can no longer afford it because......
I FINALLY BOUGHT A CAR!!!! After 2 years of not having one, I bought one on the two year anniversary of being on my own. It's an older model and the body has flaws, but it runs well and IT'S MINE. No more standing at bus-stops with foul mouthed homeless people who are not trying to get on any buses. No more getting up super early to make sure I am on the bus on time. No more relying on the ex to borrow the van if he deems me worthy. I have the freedom to go where I want and that too it a beautiful thing.
Lastly, the best thing that has happened in the past thirty days was meeting a truly amazing guy. A guy who has goals, plans for his future and grounded in his here and now. Someone who is interested in more than just sex and who actually gets my quirky sense of humor. It has been so long since I have been anywhere close to being on the same page with a member of the opposite sex. I want to say that this must be what a mature (read grownup - ack) relationship must be like. It's still in the infancy stages though and we are taking it slow. I am doing everything in my power NOT to freak out or obsess or any of those other things that the Kathy of old would do. My redheaded devil is a little freaked out about just how calm I am being over this. Nothing like the manicness I displayed over the hot room-mate. There is no point to it. It will play out the way it was meant to be and obsessing will do nothing to change the outcome.
I won't say June is going to be a great month, why jinx it? I shall just continue to go with my flow. As long as I stay positive, then positive things will come my way. After all, as my new motto states "You just can't contain this type of FABULOSITY!"
Do I REALLY have to admit that I might have actually met someone of quality on one of those horrible dating sites that I only stay on for blog fodder? OK, fine. I admit it. It has taken over a year for this to actually come to fruition mind you, but apparently some things might be worth the wait.
So almost a year ago, I got a message from a guy and I humored him for a bit. He came of waaaaaaaay to aggressive though. I phased him out in typical Kathy fashion and went about my merry little way. Then I broke two toes and pulled out of the dating scene all together. Once I was healed, off crutches and out of the insanely ugly boot - I tried emailing him only to find out his account had been disabled. Whatevs, there were plenty of other guys out there to toy with and feed my ego.
I would say around November maybe, he managed to find me again. I did EVERYTHING in my power to push him away. My ego was still bruised from Code Name Hot Chocolate and while of course I relished the attention, I just wasn't feeling it. He finally wore me down. He was a persistent bugger - I will give him that. So I agreed to meet him. Had the whole outfit planned and he cancelled on me. His pipes busted in his house or something. The second time I cancelled and the third time he cancelled. Around New Years, I flipped out on him and told him I was moving to Colorado and he told me he was transferring to Miami. We called the whole thing off and then decided maybe we could meet and just be friends.
That is where he turned into a total dickhead jerk monkey. It was his turn to push me away and it worked. He cancelled on me a THIRD time and three strikes and you are out baby. I deleted him. I may have given him one last chance, but in the end I just gave up.
Two weeks ago while chastising the ex about some hot 27 year old I was going to go find and go out with, he asked if I meant the "coast guard guy"? I was like "UH, HELL NO! he isn't 27 and he is Miami - that ship way sailed" I put him out of my head. Well in Beetlejuice fashion (say his name to many times and he appears), out of nowhere - I get an email from him. Thank you ex for conjuring spirits of the past. Sheesh. I humored him because I was in a good mood and curious as why exactly he was darkening my email inbox.
We chatted a bit and I told him he had some 'splaining to do. He agreed and suggested he tell me in person. He set a date and I rolled my eyes and was already mentally prepared to move on. I told him that I was happy where I am right now, don't really need a guy in my life at the moment - so if he was serious - then game on. If not and he intended on flaking - don't bother. I don't need my time or energy wasted. He swore up and down he wouldn't. Maybe I took a little stock in it, because I did go out and buy a new outfit including shoes - then again - do I really NEED an excuse to buy a coral dress. No not really!
The days ticked off and Tuesday rolls around. He asked what I wanted to do, and I told him - this was his gig - he got to figure it out. I also warned him again that there was to be no flaking unless there was a death in the immediate family - but even then he better send me a picture of the corpse. I don't care if Grandma's tongue is hanging outside her mouth - I WANT PROOF. We decided on a Mexican restaurant across from my office. (This led to a crazy text to my personal trainer to ask how exactly do I eat there and NOT blow my calorie count for the day?)
Wednesday. I'm wearing my coral dress and my oh so 80's cinch belt and brought my 4" wedgies. I waited and waited and waited for him to cancel so I could be all self righteous and he didn't. At 4:30 he texted me to tell me he was on his way. HOLY CRAP - I REALLY HAVE TO GO THROUGH WITH THIS? Panic sets in. I can't do this. I SUCK at dates. I am not witty or charming in person. Again - see the Code Name Hot Chocolate link. There was no turning back though. My amazing friend Red Devil gave me a much needed pep talk and I cursed Man Whore for not giving me the guys perspective on how amazing I looked and headed to the restaurant. I mean it's been a year - I got this - I think.
I had the BEST time. He was cute, funny and engaging. He is a Jeff Gordon fan though and that should TECHNICALLY be a deal breaker. At least he didn't tell me he was Tom Brady or a Raiders fan because that would have killed it. We had a nice light dinner, walked around the fountains by my office because they shot a scene from Demolition Man there and he drove me home. We hung out for a bit, kissed a couple of times and called it a night. The truly amazing thing was that he does ACTUALLY want to see me again! Yes ladies and gentlemen - you did read that correctly. I finally got DATE NUMBER TWO. We are going to hang out this weekend if the schedules align or next week for sure.
So break out the boxed wine y'all (I mean this isn't exactly worthy of your vintage Cabernet yet) and celebrate with me! I am a happy princess at the moment!
NSo, most of you probably read my last post and said "Psssh - whatevs - we KNOW you have no follow through!" I mean it has been well document throughout this blog.
The funny thing about change is that is never going to happen until you are ready to let it happen. Until you are actually in a frame of mind where this is it...it's now or never. When Eminem's Lose Yourself starts playing in the back of your head and you know - YOU KNOW that it is time.
And it was.
So I bravely put on my jog bra, yoga capris, dryfit tshirt and my grabbed my water and headed to the gym. I got all signed in and realized I had NO idea what I was doing. The girl at the desk told me to just go for it - the machine were pretty self explanatory. So I dabble for about 30 minutes got bored and went home. 30 later I get a call from someone at the gym saying she had heard I was lost and when could I come in to meet with her? I explained that I didn't have the money for personal training just yet and she said that wasn't what she asked. So I set up an appointment to meet with her that Saturday. I went back one more time for a half an hour thinking I was doing good.
Then I met Rachel. I was ready to turn around and run for home. She is this tiny, pretty, blonde, flawless thing. I mean it too - she is training for her first fitness competition. She weighed me (UGH really 158.5?) and ran me through drills to see what my level was (I was on level YOU SUCK - my words not hers - she is too nice to say such things) and it was determined that 120 pounds would be my goal at a pound a half dropped a week. I loved her by the end of our meeting. I plopped down my money to set her as my personal trainer and began my journey.
My first session got rescheduled twice, so it wasn't until the following Saturday did I actually get to meet with her for real training. She scared me by sending me into the weight room for strength training. It is a scary room filled with hot guys and there I was all sweaty and pudgy and far from cute. An hour later, my upper half was sufficiently on it's way to sore and I was given homework. 400 calories burned of cardio and I was given a schedule to follow. 400 calories - pshh - easy peasy charley.
But boy was I wrong!
Sunday, My ex rudely (ok, he was rather pleasant about it) awakened me on the couch at 5:30 in the morning and told me that I should get up and get my workout over with. Sure it was Mother's Day and I wanted to sleep in, but I decided to drag myself out of bed and get it over with, I got there and jumped my sleepy butt on the treadmill. Worked my way up to an incline of 8 and a 4.1 MPH pace. 40 minutes later, I was exhausted, sweaty and still hadn't reached it. I decided to knock the rest off on the stationary bike. Mistake. My legs were like jello and it was really hard to pedal those last 50. I did though. I did. Then I did another 400 calories cardio burn Monday even though my gluts hurt like the dickens (who knew you had butt muscles? Apparently everyone but me!). Tuesday I got a small break from the cardio because it was back for more of Rachel killing my upper half with strength training. Wednesday was another 400 calorie burn, By the time I hit yesterday - I thought my hamstrings were going to break. Never had my legs hurt that much. I actually had to break down and buy some Bengay to put on the muscles so I could sleep. Thankfully it was a rest day. I thought about going in for Zumba, but I was too sore. Instead, I stayed in with Bradley Cooper (God I love Redbox).
Yeah yeah yeah you say. So it's only been two weeks you say. Well you are correct, but I am seeing results. The first training session we weighed me and I had lost a 1.5 pounds. This is what I am supposed to be losing per week. I have visible definition in my calves and my thighs are becoming firmer. My stomach has gone down enough that if I look down - I see my toes instead of my stomach. The only downside is the girls are getting smaller too. I will miss them the most!
So I really think this is something I will keep up. I am determined. I am holding myself accountable on Facebook. By December - we should see a whole new me and who knows - maybe I will finally have a date for New Years. The possibilities are endless because I am a WARRIOR PRINCESS!
I remember the conversation plain as day which is amazing since most days I barely remember my name. I was at the bar with my mom and we were laughing with the female bartender who said something to the effect of "Chocolate - I laugh in your face. I can eat whatever I want!" I agreed with her and my mom said "just you wait until your metabolism slows down - then we'll see who is laughing!" Being all of probably twenty four at the time - I probably rolled my eyes at her, slammed my drink and went traipsing off to the bathroom to see what I could hit on in my path. I was tiny, cute and didn't have a weight care in the world. I ate what I wanted and never thought twice.
I HATE when anybody is right - but especially my mom!
I had a period around thirty five where I ballooned out. Everybody asked if I was pregnant and had to explain - No I'm just fat - thanks for reminding me. Little did I know at the time I was pregnant and my little bundle of joy was the reason my boobs became something to marvel at even though the rest of me wasn't so much so. Once I had Gman and started breast feeding, the weight melted off and for the first time ever I was a size 6 AND a C cup. I have been a size 6 before, but I had a tiny size A cup and padded bras so thick they could stop a bullet to make objects bigger than they appear. Yes, I would stare at my reflection the windows as I walked beccause I jiggled for the first time ever.
Then it happened. Acute pains in my side. I felt like a band was squeezing the life out of me. I couldn't breathe. I was running around the house looking like Melissa Gilbert portraying a young Helen Keller. Not a politically correct description, but it is the closest visual I can create with words. A trip to the ER and an ultrasound confirmed I had serious gall stones and that bad boy needed to come out. A week later I was minus a supposedly useless organ and it was all down here from there. The weight slowly crept back, but there was nothing I could do to lose it. They say the gall bladder is kind of useless, but apparently my metabolism was linked to it. I allowed myself to fall into the vicious cycle of I'm depressed because I am gaining weight, so I'll eat which will put on more weight which will depress me & rinse and repeat. So now at the tender age of 42, I am the not the heaviest I have ever been, but teetering on the brink of heading back there.
So in name of wholesale changes - one part at a time - I did the unthinkable. I joined a gym and yes I did hear the collective gasp. I realize that as I get older, the weight isn't going to come off any easier. I realize that even though I do live in the most skewed society when it comes to looks; I may be stuck here for awhile and a size 12 is considered huge here. I don't want to rock the fat chick tankini this year. I'm tired of the really cute dresses not being so cute in an extra large. I'm tired of not even getting a second glance when I go out with the girls. I need to justify the $70 I just spent on new running shoes and the fact that they are pink and grey isn't justification enough. I don't think I lost my mojo - I think it got swallowed by weight.
So I have grand plans for my workout. Zumba classes for cardio and strength training on off days. I shall try to get my butt out of bed early to hit the gym since the evening doesn't always work when I am hijacked by Gman. If the weight comes off, my running will be easier too and I won't feel so damn winded after two minutes. My only fear is losing my boobs which unfortunately go down with the weight and my butt. While I am not fond of the stomach roundness - I do enjoy my womanly curves!
I could also have possibly taken stalking to a new high or low depending on your perspective. My housemate goes to the same gym and has offered to help me work out to reach my Union Jack bikini goal (although he doesn't know about the bikini goal). I mean it is the name of friendship he offered and my asking for his help since he is a gym rat who works out twice a day had nothing to do with the fact that I MAY still have a SMALL thing for him. I need to get fit. We are just friends and the gym deal was too good to pass up since I still have income tax money left over.
You believe me right?
Right?
Well no matter what - we'll see who has the last laugh when I reach my starting goal of size 7/8.
I was trapped on the toilet. Even though we are divorced - the rules of privacy in his household don't really seem to apply. So while I was trying to do my business - the ex barges in and starts discussing a picture I had shown him three days ago. "I think what is most disturbing is really how she was dressed. I mean she is really attractive and I know you say she is in really good shape, but why then does she look like she just stepped out of the Goodwill bargain bin?" "I mean look at you. It has taken some time, but you have finally figured out how to put yourself together. Long gone are those hideous orange shorts and look your cell phone cover even matches your top". Then I uttered five words I could never take back. I wanted to run to a church and clean myself in holy water. I wanted to shower in the hottest water and scrub those words away. I wanted to be anywhere except there with my shorts at my ankles and an ex husband blocking the door.
"That's because I grew up."
Oh my gawd. Did those words REALLY just come out of my mouth? I mentally recoiled and plugged my ears with my fingers and started chanting LALALALALALA. The ex then responded with "You do realize you are la la laaing yourself right?" It was a harsh reality check but perhaps there was a speck of truth to it. Just a speck mind you.
I mean let's really take a good look at this. I am forty two years old. I have been published on two Midlife blogging Site seen here and here. I was asked to join the WHOA Network today. I have an almost seven year old son who ages me daily. I have more grey hair then I really want to talk about, but it is covered nicely with the buttery shades of blonde I keep it. Heck, I am even wearing a polka dotted dress and pearls today. All these signs point to GROWN UP.
Then I look to my left and see the Chocolate Fudge Pop Tart that I was going to allow to be my indulgence today before I found out I was getting pizza for lunch. I pay $15.00 a month to play World of Warcraft and lament that my very first character STILL hasn't level capped yet. Even though it is used more now for Netflix, I do have a PS3 and for quite awhile Harry Potter was my digital boyfriend. My son's birthday party is being held at a trampoline park this year because it was amazeball fun for me and when he suggested he have it a bounce house facility - his dad and I both shot that immediately. He wouldn't have let us play in the bounce houses - at seven - that's really embarrassing for you. I still paint my nails very immature colors (iridescent grey anyone?). How can I possibly think I am grown up?
The truth of the matter is I guess I am an immature adult and I am OK with that. It is probably a very good reason as to why I am still single, but most things your average adult does doesn't interest me. Sure I think I would love to go to wine tastings, spend a weekend in the desert with a bunch of friends or chair the PTA - but none of that is me. Underneath the well coiffed hair, the put together outfits and the mostly well pedicured toes (this is So Cal after all and a bad pedi is one of the seven deadly sins) I am still just the shy dork who would rather be holed up in her room avoiding society and playing my video games.
So I guess growing up inevitable. It happens to the best of us. It isn't the worst thing in the world right? Maybe? Yeah I am not buying that either. Excuse me now, I am going to warm up that pop tart. If I go for my run - I can burn it off later!
The ex and I got into a fight. It's cool - we were more than due. I had been there for a week straight as I was hiding out from my housemate who was probably oblivious to that fact. I was sent home at 8:30 in the morning and I went straight back to bed. I slept until 1:00 pm. That was CRAZY. I can't tell you the last time I slept like that which didn't involve me being sick. Having skipped breakfast and fairly certain I would skip dinner; I treated myself to an amazing cheeseburger and vanilla malt then watched Hope Spring because I love Tommy Lee Jones. Oh yeah, I also had a date. Believe me when I tell you - the cheeseburger was the highlight of the day.
I am trying to be more opening minded in dating adventures. I normally don't date outside my ethnicity. Growing up in the Midwest; your exposure to other cultures was minimal save for the odd foreign exchange student who was cooler than you anyways. I just find myself more attracted to white men. Sorry if that offends. Code Name Hot Chocolate was Asian and the guy who is trying to test my cougar boundaries is Hispanic. That is adventurous as I have been dating outside the average white guy. So when a Persian attorney suggested we go out for a walk on the beach, I decided to go outside my comfort zone and go for it. I mean at least we had the legal connection in common. I won't go into the fact that I am bit irked by the fact that Persia has been Iran since 1935, so he couldn't possibly be PERSIAN at the age of 40, but that is probably just ignorance on my American Caucasian part. It was doomed from the start.
He was an hour late. He said his dog threw up in the car. My time is valuable (I had laundry that I was waiting to do - hello!). Both scenarios were off putting. He showed up in a BMW. I HATE BMW drivers. They all seem to have such a sense of entitlement even if it's a crappy 3 Series that is the laughing stock of the manufacturer. He got out of his car to open my door and his moobs were bigger than mine. This is saying a lot because I rock an awesome C cup. Hot on me - not on him. I was stuck though - so I figured I'd make the best of it and have come up with an excuse to end it early. I then found out we were meeting one of his friends. OK, so now I am dealing with a pukey dog, an unattractive, overweight, BMW driving, self entitled jerk who invites a friend on a date? UGH. He really was a jerk too outside the typical Beemer driver. Road rage and total anger issues. All he talked about was Persian this & Persian that, how crappy California was compared to Texas and then dared to insult my state of Ohio. Yes it isn't as prestigious as California, but I was born and raised there you moron - show some respect. After he and his friend argued about bathrooms, I told him I had just gotten a text from the ex and needed to go home to care for my son. I couldn't have gotten out of the situation fast enough.
So my plan for a great Sunday out to get my mind of the stupid housemate was a dismal failure yet again. Why do I keep subjecting myself to this? Oh yeah - because I write a blog about being single! The night wasn't a total loss though - I did get my laundry done and there was a Duck Dynasty marathon on. At least I fell asleep with a hot guy even if it was on the TV (Jase is Rednecklicious!)
Maybe as a woman, or maybe as woman writer - MAYBE I embellish my stories just a little bit. Maybe to make them more interesting or make myself seem a tad greater than I may actually be. I mean who knew a personal catharsis would turn into something that was read by 400+ readers a month right?
So MAYBE when I said I was fine with just being friends with my housemate - maybe I embellished a wee bit? Then again, it could have just taken a day or two to sink and for me to realize that it wasn't what I wanted. It really wasn't. In thirty days time; he managed to navigate through my wall. This is no easy task as it is high and wide. I don't let people get close to me - it's a protection measure. He was the first man in two years since the separation and subsequent divorce that I did allow to get close. It took Man Whore about three months to get me out of my room and even be social if I wanted to put this into perspective. If I could jump into my hot tub time machine, I would go back and change last Sunday. It was all just too much for my chemically altered brain to take in that morning though and I couldn't handle it. I should have just left well enough alone (which is something I just don't know how to do). When I wasn't with him, I wanted to be. All I could think about was kissing him I was as pathetic as a school girl with a crush.
I thought things were going to be OK. I texted him to tell him we were good and if it was meant to be, it still would be later as he has quite a few personal issues to sort out. I saw him briefly the following day, said hi, hugged him goodbye and went about my evening. The problem is he looked good and smelled amazing as he always does. A few flirty texts later, he stopped texting back and I didn't hear from him for a few days. When I finally did make it back home for a night, I sent him a text asking what he was up to and he replied with "Hi roomie, just prepping for tomorrow". Hi roomie? OUCH. That was a very blatant "I have distanced myself from this completely". I asked if he wanted to hang out and he told me no he was going to bed. DOUBLE OUCH - dissed and lied to. He NEVER goes to be before 11:00 pm. EVER. Roger Dodger - message received loud and clear. I went to bed smarting, but not defeated. My new found clarity wouldn't let me be defeated. Never trust that though. When you think it isn't going to get worse - it does.
I saw him Saturday and he didn't even look up or acknowledge me even though I was greeted by the owners of the house. Flash forward to last night. My son is on spring break, so I have been spending a lot of time with him these past couple of days. We swung by my house to get clothes for the follow day and saw that the housemates SUV was there. Not a big deal - chances are he was in his room and I wouldn't have to see him. WRONG. I walk in and he is in an embrace with a brunette in the dining room. Gman and I made a beeline into my room. I was flustered to say the least. I tried to gather my clothes as fast as I could because I really didn't want to be there and felt sick to my stomach. As we were leaving, he said hi and I managed to squeak out a overly sweet hello and we dashed out. Of course being as flustered as I was, I realized that after we ran our errands and had to go back out again to return the Redbox rental that I had left my pants at home and had to go back. <FACEPALM>. I told my son to go upstairs to his place and I trekked back to my place feeling nauseated to say the least. When I got there, he was cooking her dinner and they were being all flirty. It was THEN I was finally defeated. I deleted him and his bunny eared contact photo that I adored from my phone. I had to because I was too tempted to send a text telling him not to come in HER eye as it would be bad form since she was playing with his phone. Of course that would have made me look bad and well I do have more class than that.
That's OK though. So what if she wasn't even pretty and he took NO time to move on? It was something that was nothing right? Well they say revenge is a dish best served cold. I disagree. I think it is a dish best served served hot - especially if the dish is a hot Latin 27 year old who I think may finally get his chance. Petty? Yes. Yes it is, but all is fair in love and housemate war and I am far to good of a catch to allow myself to be defeated! So stay tuned to see if I actually cross the cougar line!
I have really made no secret about my mental health and stability. This has been a particularly stressful month for me and it's sobering when you are told by your child that you make him nervous because he is afraid of how you will react to any situation. So at my last doctor's appointment it was recommended that I perhaps go onto an anti-depressant. This is a proposition that made me a little nervous. I was put on Prozac after the birth of my son and the hardest part was dealing with the clarity. I am not a positive person; in fact I am usually waiting for the other shoe to drop. So when I would wake up and not be filled with the normal dread of the day - it was really hard to deal with. I eventually just stopped taking it. I went on it again a few years later, but couldn't deal with the lethargy. So I really had to consider whether this is something that I wanted to do. I decided for my sanity's sake that this is something I should probably do. When even my most patient best friend was at her wits end with me - it was sort of a no brainer.
So I found myself fighting with the ex like I never had. I found myself trying to figure out what the hell is going on with my housemate. I found myself just trying to figure out what was going on with me. So one tiny pink pill went down the hatch and oh boy. I took the first one at 7 pm. By 10:00 I was out cold. I slept straight through until my alarm. This is saying a lot. My bedroom is in the front of the house and my window in very near the front door. There is an alarm that goes off every time it is opened announcing FRONT DOOR. Said door also has a coiled reindeer on the knob that the dog loves. So every time the door opens not only does the alarm make it's announcement, the reindeer makes this obnoxious sproingy sound. Couple that with the fact that there is also a wrought iron gate right outside my window that leads to the front door. So when someone comes home there is the clang of the gate, the alarm announcement and the sproingy reindeer and the equals to rarely a good night sleep. Especially since one housemate smokes outside the gate and another one is a cab driver who comes and goes at all hours. I was totally zonked. This lethargy lasted through Sunday. This may or may not have worked in the favor of the housemate.
I love this quote from Hannah on Girls “I don’t even want a boyfriend. I just want someone who wants to hang out all the time and thinks I’m the best person in the world and wants to have sex with only me.” Prior to Saturday - I really thought that is what I wanted. Prior to Saturday this is what I had. A hot guy to snuggle up to without the complications of a relationship. Saturday night I was still in my Celexa fog. He came in, we talked a little and I broke the rules. I kissed him I couldn't help it. He smelled so good. His voice was soothing, He left and I texted him to not come back, I simply wasn't in a good headspace. He did any way. He pulled me in close and fell asleep and I just went with it. I couldn't sleep though. In fact I was up most of the night. I realized this isn't what I wanted. I was finally able to sleep once I pulled myself away from his grip. Morning came and I told him I was too hot, I didn't feel good and he needed to leave. He got up and said "Thank you for being you. You make me a better person." I told him to shut up and no I didn't. He said I did and left. 10 minutes later he walks back in and tells me he lost his phone and tried to kiss me. I told him I needed space and would call his phone to help him find it. I did, he did and then calls to tell me he found it and told me he loved me. WHAT? OK I was not ready for that. Ugh, My head hurt, I was foggy and that wasn't what I needed. A few minutes later I get a text telling me that he needs me. This is the same guy who told me the night before he didn't want to date anyone. 10 minutes later he walks into my room again and was received by a very stern "What the hell, do you never knock?" I told him I needed to process this and it wasn't a good time and he said there was nothing to process. Right now I was the one whose company he preferred and couldn't he just hold me? Everything would be ok, just lay down and stop over processing. OBVIOUSLY he doesn't know me - that is something I can't do. So I am laying there. Trapped, confused and hallelujah my son called. Saved by the cell.
I had my escape finally. As we left, I reiterated I didn't understand this. I was confused. I mean this isn't nothing, but isn't something and I needed definition. He told me that it was something and that we needed to just figure out what that was. He kissed me and them lambasted me for turning away from immediately. He left and I really still had no idea what was going on. He sent me a few more text messages that were light hearted. I sent him one that said that I really liked him in a way neither of us were comfortable with and it scared me. He texted back that he really liked me to and he was also scared. Later he texted me asking when I was coming home. I informed him I wasn't going to be there tonight and just needed to process. He informed me there was nothing to process. We were just snuggle buddies. WHAT? This morning he loved me and needed me and now we are snuggle buddies? I thought about it and realized that I was no longer in my fog, My head was clear. I realized I didn't care. I sent him a text asking why he was paying for a dating site when he had a girl he was crazy about but too stubborn to admit and against my judgement was rather sweet on him. He tried to call and I didnt' take it. I didn't need to.
I have positive clarity for the first time in a long time. For the first time ever I am not scared of it. My life is my own. I don't need a guy who wants to pretend I'm a girlfriend at night, but doesn't want to have to be a boyfriend during the day. Who will take a girl out from the internet, but won't take me out? I thought I needed his validation because he told me I was pretty and smart and smelled good. I know this - I really don't need to hear it anymore. So my hot housemate can take all the time he needs to figure it all out and I'm ok that my bed is really too big for one person. For the first time ever - I am not afraid to be alone. I am actually looking forward to it and to discovering who I really am. I can take this time to figure out what I really want and when the time is right I will be able to find the right guy. Hot housemate probably isn't it.
My life is crazy. That is all there is to it. I am like a poor woman's Bravo reality show with a mix of Girls. Crazy ex who I am still in love with: Check. Drama with an ex husband: Check. Child who wants to be famous: Check. Exotic Locale: Check. (Come on - Atlanta has two shows - what's one more Orange County Show). Desperate Need of Patti Stanger?: Check. Yeah I could totally have a hit on my hands.
Season One would start with the fight with the ex. He rudely made a reference to how I think I have it all together and then dare to declare it in my blog when I am so f'ing clueless. After the initial sting (he is after all the king of go after something balls to the walls and then laying it to rest many dollars later when his passion for it faded), I found it funny because he has read the blog and should know that I am the first to proclaim I don't have a clue. That is half the reason the blog is still going strong. I use it as therapy, as a sounding board and as a story telling mechanism to try to make some sense of My So Called Life (Yes, I'm well aware I am no Clare Danes TYVM).. There have been many a time where I just needed to get it out of my head and into words to try to make whatever I was dealing with make sense. If you got a chuckle out of it, could relate or even gave you something to talk about or even think about - I am happy. I usually deal with things in a very self-deprecating and sarcastic manner. I sometimes find it hard to take matters seriously because it isn't how I am wired to deal with matters. This is why after a year and a half, my baby blog is growing as fast as my actual child.
Cut Scene: "I am TOTALLY clueless as to what I am doing - I am finally learning to work through it though."
Back Story: Last week was rough. I nearly had a total psychotic breakdown. Everything in my life was spinning out of control. The kind of tailspin where you start crooning Jesus Take The Wheel because letting go is probably your best option. I drove my most patient friend crazy, almost torched a bridge and was pretty sure I would never speak to the ex again except for matters of the kiddo. In the end though - I came out enlightened instead of more confused. I emailed someone I wasn't supposed to, but it helped. He calmed me down, but not once did I slip into the my usual "damnit you love me - deal with it and get on with it". There was none of the "damnit, I love you and I don't know why you are so f'ing stubborn." It was actually more like "I'm losing it - you are the only one who understands me when I get this way and that is all I need from you. No matter what our feelings are - our paths are not destined to become one and I am OK with them running parallel for now." I had huge text blow out with HH, who had the audacity to tell me I was mean and I hurt HIS feelings. I went off the handle as usual, but for once (after guidance from my shoulder Devil who has been acting more like the shoulder Angel) - reeled it back in and salvaged whatever the hell we have going on. I somehow even managed to work my way back into decent graces with my ex.
Brilliant Conclusion: I learned two very valuable lessons:
1) While I am TERRIFIED of being alone, I realize I am going to be that way for awhile and it is OK. There are parts of me I think are broken and sometimes it's ok that it can't be fixed right away. I need to focus on what I have going for me and work on improving the things that need minor adjustments instead of going for the wholesale changes.
2) I am not terrified of the opposite sex and am not terrified of the prospect of sex. It turns out that I was projecting a fear to mask the fact it isn't what I want deep down. That isn't to say the desire isn't there - it is - but this whole HH fiasco is showing me that I don't really want him. I just want HIM to WANT me. I want the adoration. I want the compliments. I want to be kissed and held and have my hair stroked while being told how beautiful I am. I want to think that when I pass him as I am going out the door for a run - I will drive him to distraction. I just don't want to have to act on it. While his naked backside is enough to make even the most stubborn gal weak; friend zone is probably our best bet. Granted there is a little more than friends, but less of anything else going on but still. I mean I can kind of snap my fingers and have him do whatever bidding I so choose without him asking anything in return. That kind of power can go to a gal's head though and I REALLY trying to keep that in check. It is nice to know that I will never starve because he is always trying to bring me dinner.
Cutaway scene: I'm getting there - slowly but surely. The journey isn't always fun and discovering your flaws suck. In the meantime - I am going to continue just trying to figure this all out.
And Andy Cohen - if you are out there - CALL ME! I really think I could be Bravo gold! I'm not sure it could be neatly wrapped up in a thirty minute segment, but I sure would have fun with the cut away interviews!
For some reason I cannot escape the attractive housemate. I seem to collect them like some people collect stamps, coins or Birkin bags (this is So Cal after all). When I moved into my current household, I thought I had escaped it for once. I had met two of the three men who lived there and there was no attraction whatsoever. It was a relief after a year and half of living with Man Whore and his entourage. When I finally met the third man, I stopped in my tracks. I immediately texted a friend "OMFG my last housemate is freaking HOT". The kind of hot that if I brought him to a work function - the catty office girls would be dying to know how I got him. I was never home enough to charm him though and in the past six months I've seen him minimally.
Well in recent weeks I have been spending a lot of time home. When I had my Geek Boy over, Hot Housemate (HH from here on out) knocked on my door asking if I needed the bathroom for any reason because he was overtaking it for awhile to shave his head. I thought nothing of it. After Geek Boy left, I ran into HH in the hall & made small talk about his shaved head and thus began the flirting (ok MAYBE I was rubbing his head while talking to him). We exchanged numbers and decided we would hang out sometime. That seemed innocent enough; Man Whore I did it all the time. He'd drink whatever he had on hand, I'd drink my wine and we'd watch the Lakers, Pawn Stars or just hang out and talk.
Within 5 minutes of the exchange he was wanting to come in my room and hang out and I shut him down. I'm getting old because at that exact moment sleep > hot guy. Yes my priorities can be skewered.
Fast forward to a week later. After much discussion with the Devil on shoulder, it was decided that I must go after him. Even if it was in a clean the pipes capacity - my ego needed this. I sent him a text apologizing for the week before if I had come off rude and suggested maybe we could hang out next week. Again - I'm thinking something platonic; something let's get to know each other first. I'm deeply engrossed in a Bethany Ever After marathon and he knocked on my door. I let him in which was probably a mistake. He came in, swept my covers aside, swept the hair off my neck (which I will never admit to anyone except all thirty of you who may read this - that was kind of a turn on) and lunged into me. I froze. Then I threw him out of my room. I wasn't really prepared for that kind of bravado. I spent the next few days afraid to go to the bathroom for fear of running into him.
Flash forward another week. After more counseling with my Devil; I texted him asking him what his idea of hanging out was because he obviously wasn't on par with mine. He apologized and told me we would just be friends. A few days later I saw that he was overhauling his room and was sent into a panic. It looked like he was moving out before I overcame my fear of the opposite sex. I texted him to find out what was up and it turned out he was just spring cleaning. This lead to more flirting which lead to him offering to make me dinner the following week and we'd watch a movie. Yes, I know exactly what Let's Watch a Movie is code for, but it was decided he was going to be my rebound and well I was getting a cooked meal out of it. Besides, I have been in control this whole time and really nothing would happen that I didn't truly sanction.
Flash forward 4 days later. We hung out and I helped him set up his laptop as I am woman of very many talents you know. We talked and got to know each other a little bit and I knew how the night was supposed to end. Little did I know it would end up as what was detailed in my last post. Oh did I forget to mention that the subject is literally six steps from my door? Whoops my bad. So it was then my turn to friend zone him. A few text messages the next day and I thought we were good. The problem is, fully clothed he is a really nice guy and well this is shallow but also just disarmingly attractive. It reminds me of this scene from Crazy Stupid Love (which is the only chick flick i will admit I like.)
So Friends Zone it is. Saturday I had a rare day home. I rented Argo and texted him to see if he wanted to see it, but he had to promise me he would be on good behavior and would stay clothed. NO EXCEPTIONS. He told me he had to work late and I told him too bad because I would probably half way to asleep when he got home. Twenty minutes later he told me he was going to get off early and I jokingly told him to bring me dinner home because I was starving. An hour and a half later, I have this hot guy dressed in a white shirt and tie delivering me my favorite pizza and a two liter of Coke. Pizza will ALWAYS win you points in my book. We ate dinner, he took a shower and I frumped myself up with fleece pajama pants and an oversized t-shirt. Then we watched the movie. He curled me into his side, wrapped his arm around me and fell asleep for the first half and behaved completely the second half. There was some caressing of my hair and such, but nothing that crossed the line. When it was over - I told him it was bedtime and he gave me a small kiss goodnight, told me I was his favorite friend and left. FRIEND ZONE MISSION ACCOMPLISHED sort of. I spent the next few hours tossing and turning because - well I really didn't want to kick him out.
The next day I texted him telling him that it if it weren't for the fact that I would have to change EVERYTHING about him sexually, I could totally buy into this. That led to a discussion of what a selfish, vulgar jerk I thought he was in bed and was informed he isn't always that way and if I didn't like it - he'd change it for me. What - a man actually saying he would change? Could it be that the neanderthal from a few nights ago could actually be molded? We kind of decided that neither of us are really in a place for a fully committed attachment. I expressed what I wanted out of it, he expressed what he wanted out of and it was agreed we'd just see what happened.
So thus begins the chapter of casual dating with no current commitment, Yes I know that I am probably playing with fire because I will probably fall for him but I am almost positive I will be able to pull the plug on it when it ceases to be fulfilling for me. I know that things will be fine until he is actually dumb enough to bring someone home under the no commitment terms and I go internally psychotic. Don't worry though. He may be hot, but I still have an equally hot 15 years younger than him guy I have kept stewing on the back burner just waiting for his chance and nothing fights fire like fire! But in all seriousness - I am curious to see where this goes. I am taking a big step in my path of moving on. My good friend Tim put it this way - "Sometimes we eat for sustenance and sometimes we eat for gluttony. Fruits and veggies are noble foods and are good for you while they take away hunger. Cheetos can do the same thing... Maybe he's just a Cheeto" Time will tell if he is a Cheeto or bacon wrapped Filet Mignon. If you will excuse me now I have to go hit the vending machine because I cannot stop thinking about Cheetos and dreading the run I have to do later to burn some of those calories!
Update 12:30 AM
And as quickly as it opened; so closes the chapter on Casual Dating. I guess he isn't Cheetos or Filet Mignon. The funny thing about a small house with thin walls is you can hear everything that goes on behind them. I was blissfully ignorant and finally getting some sleep until he walked down the hall on the phone speaking rather loudly....to some woman from his past....begging her for a commitment...promising her the girl he had been texting over the weekend didn't mean anything which fully woke me up. The only thing I hate more than being disturbed while watching a movie - is being woken from a good sleep, so needless to say my mood was foul and a little dramatic. I pulled the plug. just like I promised I would when it wasn't fufilling. It is fine, but I'm not going to be the be the one who fills in the space when whoever she is isn't around. He wasn't my type and I was being swayed by my own shallowness and neediness into something that I knew I didn't want in hopes of it turning into something I did. I deserve better than that and am finally mature enough to realize it. Just glad I found it out sooner than later.
When I was young, if you were a boy and you found your dad's stash of Playboy magazines - you thought you hit the jackpot. Many a boy read National Geographic because in some cultures women don't wear tops and it free access to women's breasts without being scolded. In high school we played Sexual Trivia in basements at parties not really having any clue what we were talking about. Most of us had barely gotten to third base. There were a few that had sex, but even then it was about fumbling and learning as you go.
Now we are in the age of Internet and the innocence of our youth is slowly dissipating into the porn culture. We have all done it- tried to do an innocent search such as farm animals and accidentally came across something that made us proclaim "WOAH MAMA" as we turn the Ipad sideways to figure out how that is humanly possible while shielding the young ones eyes from such a spectacle. We have to be mindful of what we let our children do online because even something as innocent as a music video has themes way too adult for my seven year old son to watch even if the song plays non-stop on the radio.
So now as the mother of a boy who will one day grow up and have his own sexual experiences - it is my duty when he is older to help him understand that porn is just a grown up movie meant to solicit a feeling of arousal when watching it. That it is pure entertainment and not meant to be used as a how to guide. That most women will never perform on par with or enjoy ninety percent of what goes on in porn. That when the female says NO, you stop. That even in a sexual capacity, their partner deserves respect. They deserve to be listened to and their requests understood. That there are repercussions that go further than just getting a girl pregnant such as why date rape is never ok. Three families in Stuebenville, Ohio lives will never be the same because two boys lacked the common sense to respect a drunk girl who was really too incapacitated for her own good. Our culture has become so sexualized that is seems at times what is right and wrong has become a blur.
No matter how hard we try to protect them from it - they are going to find a way to circumvent out attempts and will hit their virtual jackpot. They will pour over the Internet pages of women getting done six sides of Sunday, just like guys of my generation poured over the Playboy contraband they scored. What is scary though is that kids these days are becoming insensitive to what the reality of sex is. They will think that every woman is ready to go at their disposal. That she will enjoy being showered with a happy ending and enjoy the warm sticky secretion that he so proudly sprayed all over her. That a woman will enjoy having every orifice stuffed, will beg for more and will have a rocking screaming, orgasm every 10 minutes. They will think that women are objects for their pleasure and that sex in the pornos is how it is supposed to be.
Now don't get me wrong. I have watched my fair share of porn and even have a specific genre that does it for me. I am not a total prude even if I am terrified of getting naked in front of a stranger. I know the difference though between what is real and what someone is getting paid a lot of money to do on camera. Having sex with someone who is smack dab in the middle of this porn culture is not enjoyable because they seem to forget the difference. The man was so focused on what was going on with him - I swore there was a camera crew in the room I was missing. He was talking crudely, making guttural noises and performing at a level that put my best faked orgasm to shame. All I could think of was Shoshana on Girls "Get out of me now" and Natalia "I am not going to say that. I can like your cock without being a dirty whore". (side note Girls is one of the best shows out there - back to my rant now) He never realized that I was laying there like a dead starfish for twenty minutes while he was going through what seemed to be some tribal mating ritual. By the time it was done - I was pretty sure with some investigation - I could have found that exact scenario online - minus her laying there cursing him mentally for not prematurely ejaculating. In porn, women never play the starfish card. This was not a guy who was willing to fumble to figure it out what was working for me. It was someone who must have seen something somewhere, heard what he thought was good dialogue and hoped by the time he was done his invitation to the AVN awards would be in the mail. He was so in tune to his porn culture that even when I slipped up and sent him a text meant for my best friend detailing just how bad it was - he still wanted to cook me dinner next week and try again. In porn - there are no bad scripted experiences. There is no friend zone.
I don't live in that culture though and until he can get his mind back into reality and realize that his partner is more than just a vessel for his erection - we are not going back down that path. Sure - he can cook me dinner next week. Sure, we can Redbox a movie, but it is well documented that I don't like to be interrupted while watching one. I think this guy bit off more than he can chew with me. I am too old to train a forty one year old boy to be a man. I shall not be swayed by an extremely hot neanderthal who is a nice guy fully clothed. This might have been a step towards finding my long lost inner diva and I got a blog post out of it - so I guess I did get mine after all!
Oh dear - I really hope you didn't break open the boxed wine in celebration. The title is a wee bit misleading.
I mean I did meet someone. I went to great lengths to make that happen. A long while back I had signed up at a geek dating site. It seems I am too out there or the mainstream ones - so I thought I would try one a little closer to my personality. There was a guy who winked at me, but never said anything to me and I decided if he wasn't going to say anything - I wasn't going to act on it. Flash forward to a few weeks later. I found a dating site specifically geared towards people who play the same video game I do. I signed up there too thinking that if I can't make a connection there - I really need to hang it up. I mean - I think I'm pretty hot for a geek. Lo and behold - I found the same guy there. I decided to take a closer look and found it said that we live in the same city, he WASN'T in his twenties and we had an insane amount of things in common. He was kind of cute too so I decided I needed to talk to this guy. So I sent him a message. His inbox was full. I went back to the original geek site. His account had been deleted. I had been thwarted. Of course I had no way to contact a very great match. This the luck of me.
So I thought about it for a few days and realized he had his email address listed on the gaming site. Now I have done some stupid things in my day, but pushing the boundaries of cyberstalking is not one of them. Well it wasn't until Tuesday at least. I decided I would email his personal email address after all. Best case scenario - he responds. Worst - he doesn't. I made a brief introduction referencing the the geek site and gave him my Facebook link to prove I wasn't a porn spammer. Twenty minutes later I had a friends request from him and thus began the chat. Lots of things were discussed and I made sure to establish that this wasn't sexual in nature. He told me that he would actually like a girlfriend, so he was ok with the fact this wasn't about casual sex. This guy seemed to me like and that he could be boyfriend potential - not just a pipe cleaning potential as it were.
Two days of nonstop chatting led to the request of a gaming date for Friday night. He'd pick me up with my laptop, we'd watch a movie, play some World of Warcraft and just hang out. This didn't seem like a bad night to me since I would've been sitting home playing anyways. In fact it seemed like a pretty damn fun night to me. He had wanted to me to spend the night only under the pretext of if he was drinking - he wouldn't want to drive me home. This didn't sit well, but I wasn't ready to address it quite yet. That evening he texted me and said he in in the area and how about he stopped by for a meet and greet? That would take the awkward edge of the following evening. I was already in my going for a run gear and warned him I really didn't have time to cute myself up but sure - come on over. So there I was in my ponytail, leggings, tank top and jog bra letting some guy I am trying to impress come over. Obviously I hadn't really thought this through, but there was nothing I could do because he was less than five minutes away. Mad dash to make the bed, shove everything I could in the closet, hide the sex toys (ok - not really on that last part) and the next thing I know - I am coaching him as to where my house on the corner of the main street is and arguing what constitutes two blocks.
He was tall - I came up to the top of his ribcage at best. He was cute and was dressed in a casual style. Basic jacket, Vans, t-shirt and jeans. I had There is Something About Mary on in the background because well I am pretty sure the Vanderpump Rules Reunion Special that I was watching would have sent him running for the hills. I of course was my stupidly shy self, but not as much as usual. He rambled a lot andI was content to listen because that meant I didn't have to talk about myself. Except for the fact he was a smoker which is usually kills it on the spot - I thought he was pretty cool. It is very rare for me to meet someone who not only plays the two main games I do, but also likes the same anime, loves Star Wars and just shared my overall geekiness too. I was willing to overlook the smoking part because I had just found my near perfect match. We hung out for about an hour and he decided to take off. He didn't try to kiss me or do anything inappropriate. We hugged goodbye and he reminded me to make sure I had my power cord for my laptop. Nothing kills a great gaming episode like a dead battery.
I texted him later that night, but he didn't respond. I let it go and fell asleep to the repeat of the Vanderpump Rules Reunion (I don't think I am ever going to get to see it in it's entirety). At 1:15 am I get a Facebook message from his saying "Sex Tomorrow?" Now I leave my phone on at night because I don't live with my son. Not that I think that anything is going to happen to him, I just prefer to have it on just in case. I am accustomed to certain emails coming in around midnight and have trained myself to not notice those. So I really didn't appreciate being woken up at with such a ridiculous question when sex wasn't even on the table to start with. I gave him grief over it in the morning and he said he was only kidding. There would be no sex. I then told him that I still really wanted to hang out that night - I just didn't want to spend the night. He doesn't live exactly close and even under the context of a platonic couch surf - I wasn't comfortable with the idea of it. He said he understood and maybe another time. I suggested since he was going to pick me up anyways - why not just bring the movie and we could watch it at my place? I never heard from him again. I suspect he didn't want to come back to my place because of the housemates even though we all keep to ourselves. What I don't know is why he refuses to talk to me - but hasn't unfriended me on Facebook. I didn't cancel on him, tried to make other arrangements to counteract the spend the night factor - but he won't respond to anything I send him.
So yes - I DID meet someone. Someone who I ACTUALLY wanted to see again and really get to know. I guess it wasn't in the cards. So I need to leave well enough alone (yes I know I don't know how to do that - thanks for reminding me) and let it go. Whatever his reasonings were - they are his and his alone. If he wants to watch Dragon Ball Z alone - that's his prerogative. He may be hard pressed to find another female in his age range in Orange County who shares his love for the show besides me - but I think that is just the bitterness of rejection rearing it's ugly head. He even told me he has a hard time finding women who even accept his lifestyle gaming choices - much less participate in them. The ex asked if I was really moping over the fact I didn't get a 37 year old WoW player. I told him it was more that I COULDN'T even get the 37 year old WoW player. Seriously. If I cannot seal the deal on someone who shares my geek passion - then I really need to consider taking a serious hiatus. Maybe it is truly time to bring on the moratorium.
Any time that KC and I go out - it is usually going to be an interesting evening. For example - the Saturday night we took Yuma, AZ by storm. I know we were the only blondes in the bar & quite possibley the city save for the college girls that were in town for the softball tournament we were there for. We usually go out on Saturday and those are the evening she gets all the attention. KC is the friendly type. She loves to dance and is always smiling when she does. Guys usually take this as an invitation to stalk her the rest of the evening and she is the type that is too polite to tell them to go away. In an unusual shift of things - we went out in a Friday night this time and boy howdy was it a totally different experience!
I should have known what kind of night it was going to be when I went to the restroom for the first time that evening. I encountered a very drunk girl sobbing because she was a leap year baby (Born February 29) so March 1st was technically the day it should be celebrated, but nobody in her family had even wished her a happy birthday. So another lady took pity on her, and from the straps of her thong, produced a mini bottle of alcohol and gave it to her to shoot. It really isn't every day you get shots from some stranger's panties. After a few more minutes of going on and on, the lady pulls out another bottle from the other side of her undies and now this girl is wasted and crying about how she is spending her evening all alone. Apparently she was so drunk she forgot that she had a hot boyfriend floating around in the bar. I really felt sorry for the mess he was going to have on his hands a few hours later when the vomiting would inevitably kick in.
Next order of business. I get a message from 30 year old asking me if I am into Mother/Son sexual roleplaying. WTF? I don't have to roleplay being a mom - I am one. I don't need a man with mama issues when I already have boy who is 6.
The evening is progressing and the alcohol is being consumed. We get up to dance and a small group takes over our table. I go back over to take it back and they ask if we don't mind sharing the table. Yeah sure, no problem. I take my sip and go back to the dance floor. Now my feet are getting tired in my 4" wedge sandals, so KC and I head back to our table. The couple has asked their friends to leave the table because they need some privacy to work out their issue. So now we are stuck listening to this couple break up and the girl is crying. It's a bit uncomfortable, so in my drunken bravado - I approach their cute friends and invite them back to the table on the basis that they did overtake OUR table and they had to be more amusing than the breakup. I was informed that they would only come back if I bought them a drink? EXCUSE ME? Shouldn't they be buying US drinks. I told them nevermind - I'd rather point and laugh at his brother who was trying desperately to salvage what was left of the breakup. The guy grabs her purse, strings it over his neck and they FINALLY leave to go finish hashing it out by the pool tables. We couldn't have been more relieved.
Time for more dancing. This time a guy with a deep v-neck t-shirt on with an insane amount of black curly chest hair protruding from it tries to dance up on me. Now I am vehemently opposed to vneck t-shirts. The guys in Orange County who usually try to rock them also have on skinny jeans and look like total douche bags. Sad but true. It was 80 degrees the entire day, the bar is hot and he is also wearing a black leather jacket - not even a biker style which added to his over all douchey appearance. I tried to avoid him, he tried to kiss me. I covered my lips and pushed him away. KC is losing her mind at this point. "Really - a cute guy is all over you and you push him away? SERIOUSLY?" Yes seriously. Dude wasn't my type at all. A short time later, we head back to the dance floor and KC said something to him about me and I apologized saying "I'm sorry - you just aren't my type." He responded "You aren't mine either" I said "Well then there is no more need to waste each others time". Then Douchey V-Neck boy caused a scene. "I'm NOT trying to get into your pants for god sake. I am trying to treat you with respect because you are a human being. Obviously you are a bitch and don't deserve respect. I hope the next guy you meet treats you like the bitch you are and deserve to be treated like. BITCH!" Just wow. I got read the riot act by Douchey V-Neck boy and I bet he wonders why he is single?
So now we have been out for about three hours and KC is revelling in the fact that tonight is finally my night for the weird occurrences. My two attempts to talk to guys ended up in the before mentioned guy telling me to buy HIM a drink and getting boob blocked by a chick claiming to be a jealous girlfriend who came out of nowhere and seemed to have no issue when any other girl came up to talk to that guy, Then I was verbally assaulted. Definitely an interesting night for sure.
We look up and see a hipster bowl cut guy. Finally there is someone in that whole blasted Bro bar that quite possibley might be my type. He says something to us and walked off. KC sees my eyes light up and we go on a hunt to find him, but he is nowhere to be found. We go see if we can stir up any trouble on the patio - there is none to be had. We go back to our table and there he was. Across the bar. KC drags me over to talk to him, but I chicken out. I mean I really wasn't ready for strike three at bat when it came to talking to guys. He had a really hot chick next to him and tried in vain to get KC to abort the mission, but she refused. So I had no choice to ask him what his name was so we could stop calling him bowl cut boy and how old he was. His name was Alberto which really just rolls off the tongue if you say it right. Then he told me his age. Anyone care to guess? DING DING DING - you got it - in his twenties. Twenty nine to be exact. I can't escape these youngsters. KC leaves us to go dance to Thrift Shopping which she HATES and I am suddenly left to talk to him and really have no clue what to say. So we discuss how uber bad we are at this whole meeting people thing, He mentioned something about wanting to call me, but didn't have my number. I told him he hadn't asked for it and made some off hand comment "like here's my number, call me maybe?" and at that exact second - that song came on. That totally caught me off guard. I gave him my number, teased him about having my name TOTALLY wrong and then he said he wanted to kiss me & did! It was almost chaste. Very short, minimal tongue and then he tried everything in his power to come home with me. Well I don't really do that anymore, so I shot that down. In the end - we all went home alone, but I had 3 texts waiting for me before I even had my front door open. Will I go out with him? Maybe. He would actually have to suggest something that didn't include hanging out at my house watching TV,
So all in all - it was a pretty great night. Then again any night that ends kissing someone 12 years younger than you is a pretty good night in my opinion! It was the first night in a very long time that I really enjoyed the fact that I was single. For the record - this was the first guy in the fifteen years I have lived in California that has hit on me in a bar. This is a BIG deal to me. And hey - if the hot mess leap year baby has a boyfriend that cute - there is certainly hope for me too!
I am shallow. We know this. I am obsessed with two things. The first thing is lip gloss. It took me almost two years to find the PERFECT day shade and night shade of red in lip gloss. Day shade is L'Oreal Infalliable Le Gloss 465. The night shade is the same brand 320 (also happens to be one of Gwen Stefani's go to shades since she is contractually obligated to wear that brand). I only wear lipgloss despite having a bazillion tubes of lipstick that people seem to give me. I like soft and shiney lips - what can I say?
The second thing I am obsessed with is my hair. I have always had a very wild, almost untameable mane. If I let it dry naturally - on a humid day I look like Rosanadana. Unlike most people though - going blonde actually helped it as opposed to drying it out and making it frizzier. I have gone to great lengths to get it to the perfect shade of multi-tonal buttery blonde. This is my signature. Seriously - between the blonde hair, the boobs and the red lip gloss I could have made a killing as a pin up girl back in the day.
I also admit that I am totally a do it yourselfer. The kind that make even the most patient of hairstylist cringe. I will butcher my own bangs because I don't want to shell out $5.00 every three weeks as they start to creep past my eyebrows and into the vision zone. I also do my own coloring. Yes I know that when doing a root touch up you are only supposed to color the roots, then after it has processed for a bit, run the rest of the color through. Yes I failed beauty school, but not coloring . I have a LOT of hair though. I mean Texas sized, mother of all manes sized hair. I don't have the patience to do it the proper way. It's bad enough that it takes me an hour just to flat iron it! So I target the roots first, then take the 2nd bottle and attack the rest. Process for 20 minutes, wash it out, condition the hell out of it & voila - the hair even a goddess would envy. That was until Sunday (insert sinister DUN DUN DUN here)
Since it takes two packages to reblonde - I always try to look for sales on product. Garnier introduced a new product called Olia claiming to be oil based and not as harsh as the other products out there. Anyone who has ever colored their own hair can tell you that the worst part is the ammonia smell and sting. Garnier claimed to have minimized it. So even though it wasn't on sale - I decided to try Olia The shade 90.3 matched my hair color, so twenty dollars later I am out the door ready to reblonde myself. The bottle was fancy and the gloves were black, Good OOOH AHH factor. The product didn't have the horrible ammonia smell and was very no drip. It was almost lotion like which I acutally didn't enjoy because it didn't feel like it was covering properly. I left it on the correct amount of time and went to wash it out.
When I saw myself in the mirror pre-shower - I was alarmed. My hair looked darker. I thought maybe it was just because I hadn't washed the gunk out. I rinsed, used their special conditioners and rinsed again. When I came out of the shower - my hair looked light brown. This didn't please me at all. When it dried - it felt dry and went from my beautiful, shiney, buttery blonde to a dull dirty honey blonde. I was PISSED. I easily went about three shades darker.
I called Garnier and they were closed. I left a message on their facebook page (I don't leave nice messages) and was told to call back. I tried calling back the next day only to be hung up on by a recording 5 separate times. When I finally did get through, their rep wasn't exactly helpful. I'm trying to explain why I am unhappy and she is trying to give me tips on coloring. "Well ma'am, I can tell you this, if you purchase another product to do an all over lightening - it isn't going to work." Uhm, if I go purchase a platinum blonde shade and do my hair - it most certainly will. I've done it before. It might fry it, but L'Oreal has pretty amazing conditioners with their kits. Then she tells me that I have to get a quality control number from the box and could I call back tomorrow? REALLY? You have an uber pissed customer on the phone and you want them to call you back with numbers? I'm sorry - how many more minutes on my cell do you really want to waste? Tell me you are sending me two coupons for 2 boxes of their Nutriusse line and now we are talking. In the end - I ended up hanging up on her and I doubt I will get my compensation.
So as a public service announcement - I am of the opinion that if you are planning on trying one of the light shades of Garnier Olia line - skip it and find another product. It isn't worth the darkened hair and well I missed the just colored feel your hair has with other products. My mane always seems a bit more manageable the day after a coloring. With Olia - my hair felt frizzy - not that I don't have 4 different bottles of smoothing serum to fix that - but that is beside the point.
So Garnier, USA - you have lost a customer. As I promised the customer service person - I am spreading the word as to how unhappy I am with your product. If I can save one person from having to deal with the agony of "That wasn't my hair color an hour ago!!!" - then I have succeeded! To top it off; since it is significantly darker - my silver roots are going to be more prominent when they start to grow back in. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned by hair products and I am currently one pissed off she-devil! You don't mess with my tresses!
