A date in the life...

A date in the life...

Friday, October 28, 2011

There is a right way and a WRONG way...



For most women, the day your true love (or true love at the time) proposes marriage to you, it is supposed to be one of the greatest moments of your life.  This is true for many people but for this unfortunate blonde, it was one of the worst experiences I have ever had.  From start to finish, this "happy moment" marked a period of my life I wish I could erase.  Since I am not that powerful and I don't have the ability to change the past, I have to do the only thing I can with this mess...blog about it.

I had been in a long relationship with Harry and we had talked about marriage on and off for awhile before he proposed.  Before I go on, I should say that Harry is not his name but he was so hairy that I found it fitting that I give him this particular name.  The more appropriate name should be Sasquatch because when he was naked, he was still a furry beast.  Moving on...  It was Christmas time and I had been out of town for work and the night I flew home, Harry had planned on popping the question.  My flight was due to arrive around 6pm on December 23rd where he would pick me up and take me to dinner.  His family was coming to town the next day for Christmas and he thought it would be nice to have some quiet time together before the madness.  FYI, this was not his normal thoughtful behavior.  His idea of a quiet time together was going to the nearest bookstore.  I wish I was joking, but I am not.  The smell of books, especially in the library, was as big a turn on to him as would be an adult store complete with private rooms and glory holes to a pervert.  On that evening, my flight was severely delayed due to a snow storm and my plane had to circle for hours before it could land.  By the time I got off the plane, it was midnight and the restaurant we were going to was already closed.  I was tired and he was irritated so we just agreed to grab some fast food and eat it at home.  We ate our cold burgers and exchanged small talk before going to bed.  I had been gone on my trip long enough that I was wanting to have sex with him before I fell asleep.  So we had sex... if you can call it that?

Before I go on about the engagement,  I should offer up some back story on who he was, the sad sex between us and the unfortunate size of his penis.  Harry is older than me by a good 10 years but acted even older than my deceased grandfather.  He had been married prior to my arrival in his life and was left by his ex wife Helen for other men.  Excuse me, I said "other men" which was true but eventually she settled down with one of them and even married the guy.  So poor Harry was left broken hearted for years before I entered the picture.  I always told myself that he was over her but the truth was, he was never over her.  I believe that he loved her even more as his life went on (with me in it).  Helen remained a part of his life to a point because there was a child involved but she never really had much of an interest in Harry until he and I moved in together.  It was like magic!  Poof!  There she was every single day calling, coming over unannounced and needing favors from him.  This relationship was not just Christy and Harry, it was a threesome and not the good kind that happens one drunken night in Vegas (story for another time).  During our intimate moments together, I couldn't help but think that he wished it was her in bed, not me.  The sex was that bad!  The only reason I could come up with for the pathetic romps was that he was thinking of her.  I would think of creative ways to spice things up but he would never go for them.  One night it hit me, it wasn't me and it wasn't really bad sex, it was the very tiny penis he was cursed with.  This is not me taking a shot at him, trust me.  When that little thing was soft, it was just a head with no shaft.  When it was hard, there was about an inch maybe two, of a shaft.  No, scratch that, two inches is too generous.  This sorry thing was lacking in every department.  I had made several attempts at different positions, toys and flavored lubricants but it was always bad sex.  Anything but missionary was impossible due to the fact that his minuscule wiener couldn't reach.  Why would I want to be with a man who was lacking in the bedroom and still loved another woman?  To this day, the only reason I can come up with was insanity followed by the need to feel wanted and loved.  Pathetic isn't it, I know!

The evening of December 23rd, Harry and I went to bed around 2 am and had sex.  Something was definitely different this time.  Not only was I faking the pleasure I was vocalizing but he seemed to be either half asleep or something was on his mind (besides Helen).  Half way through it, I had to ask him if there was something wrong.  He told me that he was just tired and suggested that we just call it a night.  I agreed and went to the bathroom to freshen up before I went to sleep.  When I got back to our room, he was sitting on the edge of the bed with a very strange look on his face.  He told me to have a seat next to him because we had "to talk". Oh no, here it goes.  We are breaking up right before Christmas and I have to figure out where to move on Christmas Eve.  OH SHIT!  He was soft spoken and proceeded to tell me how he cares about me and he has enjoyed being with me and all the while I was mentally packing my bags.  Then he pulled out a ring and asked me to marry him.  What???!!!  I was in such shock that I shook my head yes and he handed me the box then he laid down and went to sleep before I actually said the word "yes".  I opened the box to find a small diamond eternity band and put it on.  This was not the proposal fantasy that I had always envisioned.  In fact, it was a far cry.  Where were the rose petals, sky writing from a jet, a crowd of fans at a hockey game cheering for us as he proposed on bended knee or just pure romance?  I had trouble falling asleep at that point because I just kept playing the evening over in my head in disbelief.  

On Christmas Eve morning, we both awoke as if nothing had changed and went about our day.  I tried to get excited our engagement  and so I started calling my family to share the news.  I thought that maybe their enthusiasm would rub off on me.  The first call was to my mother.  She answered the phone and was very happy to hear from me.  "Mom, I have some news" and she paused then said "If you are calling to tell me you are engaged to THAT man, then know that I don't support it".  That's right, you heard me!  She was not a fan of his but it wasn't until this moment that I realized just how deep her disdain ran.  I told her that yes he had proposed and we were going to get married.  She told me that she would not support it and Merry Christmas then hung up.  After the shock of call number one, I then called my oldest brother.  Our father had passed away and I had always held my brother in very high regard.  I felt that my brother and I were a lot alike and I often times respected him far more than our own dad.  His blessing and support would mean more to me than anyone else in my family and so I was very nervous to hear his reaction.  To my surprise, he was very happy for me and I asked him if he would give me away at my wedding.  He agreed to take the place of my father and seemed very touched by the gesture.  Once we ended the phone call, I was in better spirits and decided to make the most out of the engagement and to enjoy the planning of our wedding.  I called my other brothers and they seemed happy for me as well.  Okay, truth is that one of them was too high to really show enthusiasm or grasp what I was saying and the other brother seemed happy but I wasn't sold on his blessing.  

Christmas Day arrived and after all of the gifts were opened by him and his family, I sat and waited for my gift from Harry.  I was still sitting and waiting while everyone got up and started breakfast.  He walked over and said that he was sorry that he didn't buy me anything  to open but planned to take me to the jewelry store the next week to pick out the engagement ring that I would want.  He continued to explain that he only picked out the one I had because he didn't want to propose empty handed.  He had also wanted to propose at the restaurant we had planned on going to but my flight was delayed and he didn't want to lose his nerve.  That night, he announced to his family that we were going to get married and the response was very mixed.  His father was emotional and gave a nice toast over dinner and his siblings were "so so" about their joy for us.  I reminded myself to continue to make the most out of it because it wasn't to be about anyone else but us.  A few days later, we drove to a jewelry store and looked over the ring selection.  I didn't want anything too bulky because in my profession, I wash my hands all day and always putting on and taking off latex gloves.  My goal was to find a ring that fit with the band I was already given.  After a few minutes of browsing, we were approached by a salesman.  He introduced himself as Brian and my sweetheart said "Hi, I'm Harry and this is my fiance Helen".  Yes, that's right he called me his fiance Helen.  Once Brian turned to me and said "Hello Helen", my face turned white and jaw dropped to the floor.  Harry then realized what he said and asked me if I still wanted to marry him.  I excused myself and walked outside hyperventilating.  He followed me out the door and grabbed my arm to stop me from leaving.  He apologized and said that he just wasn't used to saying "my fiance Christy".  He promised that it was just a slip of the tongue and he loved me.  I was so angry that I decided to hit him where it hurt, his wallet.  I forced a fake smile and agreed to go back into the store.  When we got back into the shop, he corrected who I was to the salesman and asked to see wedding rings.  I started scouting out the biggest one I could find and once I found it, I told Brian my ring size and wanted to know when it would be ready.  I thought Harry was going to have a stroke (too bad he didn't) when we found out the price.  Again, I didn't want something big and extravagant but I was bitter and hurt and knew that this would hurt him too.  The ring was very beautiful and looked amazing on my finger but to be honest, every time I looked at it I wasn't enthused.  I was always a little sad when I wore it.  It represented the moment that I realized that he did really wish it was Helen he was proposing to and I would never be good enough.  This would be the beginning of the end and yes, it did end and not happily ever after.  

I was and always have been a believer in signs whether they were placed in front of me by God or just a coincidental billboard that happened to appear at the right time.  After this horrific proposal and life changing event, I am even more a believer in signs.  They are everywhere and if you don't take them seriously, you might just have to learn the lessons the hard way.  



Sunday, October 23, 2011

Open Wide!


Okay my littler perverts, this is not a story of a naughty gynecologist fantasy (although I've had those) but rather a true account of my date with a dentist.  No, I was not flat on my back in the dental chair with my mouth open when we met.  He found me on the almighty dating website for the lonely and desperate folks.  At first glance, he wasn't what you would call attractive but his profile was very witty and seemed very straight forward.  He wasn't "looking for a one night stand but someone to have fun with" and this caught my attention.  Finally, a man who wasn't wanting the wham bam hand me a tissue ma'am!!  His initial email to me had "Open Wide" in the subject line and once I realized he was a dentist, I found it funny.  We exchanged several messages and went straight to phone conversation, not texts.  We seemed to hit it off so fast that I agreed to meet him right away.

We met on a Friday night at the MGM casino in a lounge.  The location of this date is an important detail (and should always be) because I was not aware that any lounge or bar in the MGM is situated as far away from the parking garage as possible.  Seeing as how this was a first date, I made sure to put on high heels that were very uncomfortable but sexy.  Sexy shoes are imperative for the first meeting because it puts the image in your dates head of you naked wearing only the heels.  Since we are all ladies here, of course we won't be sleeping with the man right away but the image will still be embedded their mind.  The first date checklist for ladies should include the hot shoes, a little bit of cleavage, nice perfume (not too strong) and subtle earrings.  What we tend to notice of the men are how he smells, his clothing, hair and any visible scars.  On this evening, my 3 inch platform heels had met the criteria however, caused many foot blisters due to my marathon through the MGM.  Perhaps I should have added sweat bands and socks to my first date attire?

I arrived to the lounge (limping) and he was seated on a couch near the entrance.  I caught my breath and approached him.  He stood up and greeted me with a big tight hug and offered me a cocktail.  He was very good looking in person and I had to wonder if his photos online were of his not so fortunate brother instead of him. Normally I would be very irritated by meeting a man who didn't look like his photos but was willing to make an exception in his case.  I sat down, ordered a glass of red wine (not white, I'm allergic) and started my full body scan.  He dressed very well, smelled of a nice cologne, no visible scars and naturally had a very white smile.  We started with chit chat and after my first glass of wine, I called him out on his photos.  He laughed and told me that he liked to play down his appearance in hopes that his potential date would want to meet him for deeper reasons.  No offense doc, but a lot of women will date a doctor/dentist because of his bank account, not his looks.  Either way, I gave him credit for thinking it made a difference in his case.  For the record, I am not very picky or excited over a man's profession and I wouldn't date a man merely because he had the letters Dr. before his name.  I have worked with many doctors and if anything, it makes me not like them and certainly not want to sleep with them.  The God complex is very real and it comes with a very large ego and small penis.  The ego does not stay at work, it enters the front door at night too.  There was something more to this dentist during our communication prior to the date that intrigued me to meet him.  Maybe he was absent the day that the God complexes were handed out or by some miracle, he broke the mold.

Two hours into our date, I had started to believe that this guy was a true find.  He made me laugh quite a bit and was very forthcoming about who he was and in turn, wanted to know about me.  He had been engaged but called off his wedding when he realized he wasn't the only man in his relationship.  I could certainly relate to that story and he wasn't sure if he wanted kids.  I know, could he be more perfect?  He excused himself to the restroom and once he came back to our seats, he seemed a little different.  He had this nervous energy to him that he hadn't shown before.  Did he accidentally soil his pants?  Did he happen to meet someone through a glory hole?  I couldn't figure out why he was acting different but he didn't suggest leaving so it couldn't be that bad.  As soon as I finished my drink, he paid the bill and wanted to move on to a different bar within the casino.  Oh Lord no, more walking and my feet still hadn't cooled off from my first sprint.

We arrived at the next bar which was less crowded and full of women.  There must have been a special drink offer that I was not aware of "Buy one drink, get one lady free".  Once we were seated at the table, his attitude was different again.  This guy wasn't just a dentist, he was also a man with multiple personality disorder.  He wasn't just nervous, but almost excited like a virgin at a brothel.  I set the paranoia aside and started up the conversation by asking about his hobbies.  He cut me off half way through and said in a very serious tone (another personality if you are keeping score) "Look Christy, you are with a man who parties".  Umm okay, what?!??!  I quickly stopped talking and allowed him to continue.  He told me that although he isn't dating for one night stands, he does like to have sex with 3 women at a time while high on cocaine.  I was still silent not so much due to shock but I was waiting for him to say he was joking.  He must have taken my silence to mean I was interested and so he continued to tell me of his plans for the evening.  Are you ready for this?  He said that he had arranged for two women to join us at the bar where we currently were and that he came packing with a hefty amount of Coke and Ecstasy in his pocket.  Nope, I am not kidding and there is one more detail...wait for it.  The two women were at the bar seated behind us and he had a suite upstairs ready for our party.  The only thing I thought to say at the moment was "Cocaine is really bad for your teeth".  That's right, this freaky dentist just planned out a night of drugs and sex with other women and all I thought to do was tell him, the dental professional, that drugs were bad for his teeth.  I suppose shock can make you say stupid things and in this case, I certainly did.

Before I left the date, I was sure to ask Dr. Kinky why he thought I would be a candidate for the situation.  Brace yourself, here comes another personality!  He acted very irritated and explained that he felt that I would be very grateful to be with a successful, handsome man and furthermore, appreciate that a man of his stature would even consider taking me out, let alone inviting me to an evening of drug induced passion.  This man had quite the cavity of honesty and continued to tell me that I should consider joining him and his ladies for the night because opportunities like this will not knock down my door often. It was also pointed out that I did say in my profile that I like to have fun.  Okay, I need to delete that ASAP because clearly it means I like to party like I am 21 year old in Vegas for the weekend.  I was really intrigued by his thought process and instead of getting up to leave, I asked him to tell me what it was about me that should be so grateful.  Granted, I was well aware of how I felt about him now but was strangely curious as to how he viewed me prior to our nightmare date.  One more personality before I go...  He let out a bit of a giggle and proceeded to say that although I had a "pretty face", I was in no position to be picky about men and should know that if I lost weight, I could then afford to be more selective.  He also threw me a bit of a bone and said that I had a "great personality".  I stood up to leave and wouldn't you know it, he stood up and gave me a hug.  Seriously!  I started my journey out to the parking garage and took off my shoes.  That's right, I braved the casino floor barefooted because after that disaster, I did not deserve nor desire one more blister.

What else could I possibly say after that date?  Truth is, that evening spoke for itself.  Thanks for the date and the blisters dirty dentist.  From now on, I just say no the dentist and "maybe" to the hot gynecologist.  I know he may have the God complex but at least he knows how the vagina works.

Wednesday, October 19, 2011

Welcome Aboard





Anyone that has ever been on a airplane or even plans to be for the first time, is well aware of the almighty bag restrictions.  If your bag is this size, weighs this much or doesn't fit into a small space, it has to be checked on and better yet, will end up costing you more money.  I personally take full advantage of the rule that allows you to bring on board one small personal item as well as a carry on piece of baggage.  I find the largest purse that I have and pack it completely full of my toiletries, accessories, magazines and hair tools.  The carry on luggage then gets packed full of my undergarments and nighties.  After all of that, I still need to check on 2 large (under 50lb) bags that house the clothing and shoes.  I can't help but envy the men that I see carrying on a laptop bag (personal item) and then a small carry on that literally holds everything they need.  It completely fascinates me!  I guarantee if you ever observe the baggage claim carousels in the airport, most of the luggage being claimed is by women.  If you happen to see men at them, they are merely there to accompany the women and to carry their bags. 

So, what does this have to do with dating you might ask?  Well, the older I get (mid 30's) and the more men I meet, the more I realize that we all have baggage.  I believe that as soon as we graduate high school, we have officially purchased our first set of matching luggage.  First job, first kiss, first love, first heart break and for some, losing our virginity.  These days you may even find that a lot of students graduating from junior high school have these accomplishments under their belts....Lord help us all!  Fast forward 20 years and not only have we added to our lists of great loves, heartbreak and careers but now we have to added children, mortgage, debt, disaster, divorce and greater skepticism into the mix.  It's no wonder why pharmaceutical companies are producing such a wide variety of anti depressants and anti anxiety medications.  I'm confident that rehab centers would have a greater occupancy if people could actually afford to go.  Sadly, it is cheaper to get drunk and forget your worries than to recover from addiction.  Why do I bring all of this up and bring all of us down?  It is all a part of our baggage.  Forget the toiletries, shoes and clothing and make room for all of the emotional crap.

Hang on, all that talk made me so depressed that I need to go wash down a few Valium with a Rum and diet coke (no carbs ladies). 

Now that I am under the influence and feeling better, let's continue...

If you ever find yourself on the dating websites or even on blind dates (good ol' friend of a friend connection), you'll either read or hear the words uttered "please, no baggage".  What you will also find is that it is men making this request of women.  It seems as though men believe that it is we, the almighty female, that carry the most emotional baggage.  Why is this?  Is it assumed because women carry very large expensive handbags or merely because women are known for being over emotional and highly irrational?  Is that really the reason we have more luggage on flights?  We are no longer packing 20 pair of shoes, instead we are squeezing every bit of our emotional past into a confined space sealed by a zipper.  That is why zippers are so unstable and tend to break.  Our emotional drama is literally busting out the seams!

Buckle up boys and girls...here is where it gets bumpy!  Not to worry, the bitchy flight attendants will be by shortly to serve you a beverage and tiny bag of nuts(be sure to ask for two).


While I do agree that women tend to be more open with their emotions, I do not agree that we carry more baggage.  Yep, we just hit turbulence!  Amongst the many lessons I have learned from failed dates and relationships is that men actually do carry very large expensive bags with them especially on the first date.  Ladies, it is true!  I have heard men complain and some even cry about how women have screwed them over and made them unable to trust again, bla bla bla.. and all of this over the first drink on our initial date.  I have to admit that there is nothing sexier and more attractive than a man whining about the evil women of his past while making the pathetic attempt to get me to go home with him.  Check please! 

Men, if you are lucky enough to get us to a second date or even a committed relationship, please do not continue to compare us to the train wrecks of your past.  For example, if you were dating or married to a jealous woman who had to know what you were doing every second of the day,  then that doesn't mean we (your current partner) are repeating their behavior merely because we text or call to say hello.  We make those particular gestures because we are thinking about you!  When women are happy with a man, we let them know by doing the little things.  We call, text, email or greet you with a big hug and a kiss when we see you.  Also, if we happen to ask what you are doing or where you are, we are either striking up conversation or might need you to pick something up (tampons) for us on your way home.  Women aren't accusing you of skirting around...really. 

Now might be a good time to mention that if you men have found yourselves in the middle of a war with your ex because of the her physical insecurities, it does not mean that the next in line will battle over it too.  If your female partner in crime doesn't like you looking at other women in public, it doesn't mean we are insecure.  Put on your oxygen mask and catch your breath, this is not a joke!  When we get to spend time with the man with whom we adore and then catch them  eyeballing another woman, it just pisses us off!  Call me crazy but if we are with you, then appreciate it and keep your eyes on the prize.  Go ahead and stare, drool and fantasize all you want but not when we are sitting across from you.  What you don't seem to realize is how much effort we put into our appearance.  There is a reason it takes us so long to get ready before we go out.  We don't do it to admire ourselves in a mirror all night, it is for you...the man.  We want to be appealing to you and further more, we would love nothing more than for you to notice it and appreciate it.  If we put on something pretty or spend an hour making sure every single hair is in place, that means we have confidence.  The smallest thing that means the most would be a compliment for our efforts.  Nice dress honey, you look beautiful, your boobs look hot...anything!  Just don't make a mockery of our hard work by giving that silent compliment to a complete stranger walking past our table.  Again, we are looking hot for you, not for ourselves.  Okay, so put that bag in the garbage where it belongs and stop carrying it over your shoulder.

One final important note would be the oh so touchy subject of 24 karat gold encrusted bags also known as gold digging.   Now I grant you that there are many women out there searching for the winning lottery ticket with a penis attached to it, but that doesn't mean that all women are greedy whores.  If the ex wife or girlfriend took you to the cleaners and walked away with half of your good fortune, then don't take that out on your new relationship.  Here is the perfect example!  Valentines Day, we are all familiar with it.  I hear a lot of men and women say that it is just a day to pour money into the flower and jewelry economy, but it is also a day to remind yourselves and partners just how much you love them.  Okay, it is also a day where single people tend to get drunk and jump off the nearest bridge.  I give you that.  However, when that day in February arrives, us girls do anticipate how our men are going to show us their love.  Every time a fresh batch of flowers gets delivered to our work, we hold our breath and wait to hear whose name is on that card.  If by the end of the day we did not get any flowers, then we are hoping that there is something good in store for us when we get home.  Let me repeat myself, this does not mean we are gold digging.  This means that we would love a little gift on this day to show you care.  Here is the biggest secret for you boys that you may not know, if you give us anything, a card, chocolates, jewelry or flowers then you in return, will get a blow job and penetration.  Hell, we might even really take one for the team and swallow.   You heard me!  However, that might require a significant piece of jewelry.  Just sayin'.  This Valentines Day gift giving also applies to birthdays, anniversaries and Christmas.  For all of you married folks that have been together for years and think that gifts aren't important for either the husband or wife, WRONG!  Think about it.  It's been years since your partner gave a gift, made a loving gesture or gave you multiple orgasms so why not now?  After 10 years together, if your wife wants something nice on Valentines Day, that does not imply that she intends to take half of your net worth.  Put that baggage away and appreciate that if you give her a little you will get "it" in return.

I have so much more to say about baggage and of course women carry their share too, but I am continuously amazed at men and how far they are willing to carry it.  For now, let's put our tray tables and seats back in their full upright position and prepare for landing.  Be sure not to forget to check the overhead compartment for your bags and be aware that they may have shifted during flight.
   

Saturday, October 15, 2011

Mr. Right Guy or Mr. Nice Guy?



You take the good, you take the bad, you take them both and there have the facts of life.  Instead of taking the good and the bad, what do you do when you take the good, the nice and you add in some handsome?  Honestly, I have no idea!  Where is Mrs. Garrett when I need her?  Any dilemma I have, she could solve in 30 minutes and still have time to bake me cookies.  Oh, if it were only that simple?   This happens to be the one thing boggling my little blond mind these says   So in the spirit of sharing my feelings (also known as my form of therapy), I thought that I would be able to sort it all out in written word.  I should preface this blog entry by saying that it is really more geared towards the female audience just as the wonderful 80's television show "The Facts of Life" was.   Although, I am a firm believer that whatever is good for the goose is always good for the gander. 

Due to a recent date that I went on, I have been in a quandary about nice guys and why they finish last?  I am beginning to believe that nice guys are so rare that when we meet one, we are scared and run in the other direction.  The idea is so hard to grasp that we don't know how to react once faced with such a mythical creature.  We've read about them in books, heard stories from our Grandmothers and have even seen them in movies (Forrest Gump) but in our world, they are right up there with the loch ness monster. I myself had heard of them and actually have met a few in the last 36 years but due to my lack of experience, I tend to find the nearest emergency exit and leave the scene of the nice guy crime. 

So, I had met Todd through a friend of a friend and we went on a blind date.  We each had been given the other's number and had sent texts and photos (only clean ones) prior to our meet and greet.  This went on for about 5 days and then he asked me out for a few casual drinks and a bite to eat. Once that day arrived, my mother had gotten very sick and I had to take her to the hospital.  I sent him a text to postpone our "meeting" because I wasn't sure what was wrong and how long I would be there with her.  He seemed very understanding and a few hours later, he offered to pick up the food of my choice and bring it down there to the hospital.  He thought I was probably hungry and hospital food is a far cry from 5 star cuisine so he wanted to get me something that I would enjoy.  I respectively declined his offer and told him that as much as I appreciated it, I just didn't want our first date to be in that particular situation.  Let's be honest, I looked worse than a DUI mugshot and didn't want that image ingrained in his memory.  He let me know that the offer still stood if I changed my mind and if I needed anything, to just let him know.  Here he was, a guy who had never met me, knew very little about me but yet wanted to make sure I had something decent to eat during my mama drama.

Days later, once my mother was on the mend, I felt that I could brave the first date with Todd.  We met on a Monday night at a local pub/restaurant.  I arrived a little early and found a table that faced the front door.  Roughly ten minutes later, he walked in.  We saw each other and as soon as he got close to my table, he turned and kept walking past me.  It's okay, breathe!  He was only being funny.  He came back and asked if he could sit in the chair to my right instead of across from me.  I wasn't totally thrilled with his suggestion but I went with it.  I had to rationalize his choice of seats by telling myself that he just wanted to be close to me.  It is a quirky thing with me that I don't like first dates to sit to my side and I am just more comfortable with being across from one another.  As he settled into his seat, I did a full body scan of him.  I may not be Van Gogh, but let me paint you a picture.  He is 6'4" tall, shaved head, nice eyes, full lips, large muscular arms, 40 years old, several tattoos up and down his large arms, dark goatee and if I forgot to mention, large arms.  He was very pleasing to look at and had already scored points by his thoughtful food offer prior to our actual date.  He put his hand out to shake mine and then formally introduced himself.  I shook his hand and then we placed our drink orders with our waitress.  The conversation opened with his apology for being a few minutes late which I didn't mind at all.  First of all, he actually showed up.  Secondly, he hadn't walked out on me.  Finally, he did not offer me ice cream then explain how he only dated fatties because we are eternally grateful to the almighty hot guy for loving "us".  This guy was scoring points left and right and didn't even break a sweat in doing so. 

After the typical small talk exchange, he went on to tell me about his life.  Let's keep in mind that I never once had to ask a personal question or walked on eggshells while asking about his past baggage.  I didn't have to ask anything, he just offered it up freely.  He told me that he didn't want to waste any ones time and just layed it out there for me.  What did this mean?  Was he a wanted felon for identity theft, deadbeat dad who skipped out on child support or a paid male escort who works weekends on Fremont Street?  Nope, wrong and none of the above.  He grew up in California from mixed race parents and he not only graduated from college but also served in the military.  He shared his stories of living overseas, under the sea as well as life on dry land.  I learned all about him and what made him tick.  Amongst all of the Todd education I was getting, we managed to order food and a few refills of our drinks.  I think he had more to drink than I did because his mouth was very dry from all of the talking.  So, I ate my dinner and listened on as he spoke of his teenage son, divorce and his dating experiences since his break up.  He didn't even finish his meal because it had gone cold while he was talking.  My food was really scrumptious and I was able to finish it because I didn't have to do any of the conversing.  This date was fantastic because not only did I not have to think up a list of topics and questions to keep it interesting, but he spoke openly and I just had listen and eat.  To top it off, I never found myself bored enough to begin the great state countdown.  Oh and get this...wait for it....wait for it.... he had a sense of humor too!   If you are keeping track, he was polite, good looking, straight forward, open and funny!  Someone smack my ass and wake me up because surely this was all a dream or a really bad acid trip.

Once the 3 hour tour came to a close, wait, I mean 3 hour date, he paid the bill (more points scored) and we walked out together.  He escorted me to my car and locked us in for a second date.  He told me that he was sorry for monopolizing the evening and wanted to take me out again so I could have my turn at show and tell.  Of course I told him "YES" and then he held out his arms to give me a hug.  I went in for the hug and he gave my right cheek a very sensual kiss and I melted.  This was no ordinary peck, no no, this was a full mouth kiss without the tongue.  I promise you that if I had a penis, it would have been pointing due north.  Once he finished and started to pull back, I pulled him back in and went for the full monty.  This guy had no choice but to get it.  That's right, I violated his mouth and I make no apologies for doing it.  Kissing his mouth was even hotter than what he did to my cheek!  He quickly pulled away because I believe he was also experiencing the North Pole effect.  That evening once I got home and settled into my bed, I received a text from Todd thanking me for a wonderful time and that he could not wait to see me again.  Nice guy alert!!  Ding, ding, ding...points flying everywhere!

We have a plan for a second date complete with dinner, live music and definitely more kissing but I spend my time wondering if I can handle such a nice guy (go grab Freud, it's time for therapy).  Here we have Todd who is nice and funny, good looking with manners and on top of it all, wants to see me again!  I keep finding myself stuck in the question of whether or not I can be with such a nice person.  Where is my typical jerky guy who treats me like crap and I still stay with until he leaves me behind in his heart breaking wake?  Better yet, I tell myself that I don't deserve such a man because I've made so many bad decisions in my life that my only karma is to get the heartless assholes.  I go to the great lengths to replay this date over in my head and try to pick out the bits of him that are bad and prove that he isn't one of the good ones.  Just as in love, I am unsuccessful in this mission.  I have to face facts that so far he is not a bad catch and it is possible that I may have cashed in my lucky penny and deserve a little piece of happiness.  I am not counting on this to end happily ever after but I do remain hopeful.   Then again, there is always the option that he is a complete lunatic that wants nothing more than to bury me in the desert.

I could just be jaded from my past relationships or very skeptical of people because of my profession, but I do know that at the end of the day I do deserve a small chunk of joy.  So I will continue my mission (impossible) and see what happens.  Although, I still think if I had that hot little red headed number Mrs. Garrett or roller skating Tootie to help me solve the nice guy puzzle, this would all be a lot easier.

Thursday, October 13, 2011

Always have an exit strategy!


Hello everyone!  Let's all put on our most sophisticated attire and step into my time machine.  Be sure to take advantage of the fully stocked bar to the rear of the aircraft, buckle up and enjoy the ride!  On today's journey we will be visiting a period of time where I had found myself single after my longest relationship to date.  My engagement to the most boring man in the world had ended (thankfully) and I was on the prowl and feeling quite frisky. 

After several failed attempts to find a steady beau from the internet, I had decided to just have a one night stand.  This may sound crazy but I was tired of the horrible dates I had been experiencing.  Although they made for great stories over cocktails with friends, they certainly weren't getting me any closer to a relationship or intimacy.  These natural disasters were only pushing me closer to a life of therapy and/or rehab due to the amount of alcohol I was emotionally forced to consume.  So I made the decision to find a guy, ignore his idiosyncrasies and take him to bed then send him home.  Guys do this all of the time right so why hadn't I thought of it before?  This idea would allow me to meet the guy, have sex and not care about his weird habits, boring stories, several divorces or criminal record.  Perfect plan!

Now that I had this brilliant idea, I just needed the guy.  I referred back to the internet data base of single gents and scrolled through many profiles until I found the one.  There he was, the perfect sexual specimen.  His name was Jeremy, 26 years old (younger than me), tall, good looking and he had stated that he wasn't looking for anything "long term".  Hello!  Match made in internet scandal heaven!   I sent him an email, introduced myself and said that we had a shared interest of just a "good time" and would love to meet.  He didn't waste a minute in responding and after a bit of communication, we made a date to meet at a local sports grill that Friday.  Wait a second, back up....what did I just do??  Was I that desperate or just stuck on stupid?  Okay, maybe the answer is both but either way, I now either had to put up or shut up.  Or would that be put out and shut up? 

The night before my date, which let's be honest, was really just a strange form of foreplay, I got nervous.  I called up my close friend London who was almost my sister in law as she was married to my ex fiance's brother at the time.  However, she did up leaving him shortly after my breakup with his brother because he was also a giant loser and dumber than a box of hair.  She ended up living with me and my very large dog in a one bedroom apartment or as we called it "halfway housing" because we were suddenly free from our life sentences.  Got all that??  Sorry for the detour, just wanted to share that bit because I will come back to it again in the future.  So I called her up and told her about my genius plan.  She insisted that her and the idiot join us on the date (not the sex) to check him out before I take him home.  What a great friend and obviously the only one thinking clearly!  So I had called Jeremy and let him know that it would now be somewhat of a double date and he was fine with the revision. 

On Friday night, my friends and I arrived at the grill a bit early and got our table on the back patio.   Of course I treated myself to several shots and a beer before Jeremy showed up.  I was no longer nervous by the time he arrived. He was just as his pictures portrayed and looked harmless.  We all got along very well together and you would have thought we had all been great friends for years.  As the evening progressed, Jeremy and London's idiot husband were getting along like BFF's and before you knew it, us girls didn't even exist.  The boys were talking about comic books (snooze), ninja movies (bigger snooze) and the oh so sexy Japanese anime (code blue).  London and I enjoyed more cocktails or as I viewed them, courage in a cup and discussed my impending fling. 

We finally ended our double date and I asked Jeremy if he would like to join me for a cup of coffee at my place.  He agreed and all I could hope was that he didn't really want coffee because I didn't have a coffee maker.  Whoops!  As luck would have it, he didn't mention the nonexistent coffee but he did excuse himself to the restroom.  I waited near my bedroom door and when he came out he walked up to me and the smooching began.  He whispered in my ear that he wanted to sleep with me so....game on!  My plan worked!  No muss no fuss just sex.  We did a bit more making out and then got into bed.  I must admit that I was not turned on by his kissing because he was doing the Tasmanian devil tongue swirl that was far from sexy.  I kept reminding myself that I was just in it for the sex, not the commitment so I let the marathon tongue go and focused on the penetration.  Let's just say that the bad kissing proved to be better than the sex.  How do I say this?  Umm... okay here it goes.  Instead of a penis, he had a pencil.  It was long and very very skinny.  No, it wasn't skinny, it was anorexic.  This poor thing clearly hadn't eaten since the 80's.  Not only were we working with a lead writing tool but we also had a boy who could last longer than a man on Viagra.  He just kept going and going and I finally started my go to boredom game in my head (Maine, Vermont, Texas...) just to make time go by.  This was not the fantasy I had built up in my head.  I figured that in order to get this guy to finish and go home, I would have to really fake the "Big O" and hoped that he would follow suit.  My mouth was so dry from all of the Lamaze breathing, not to mention still drunk and now tired but still managed to pull of my finest performance.  In my best low budget porno effort, I faked my orgasm and wouldn't you know, that was all it took!  He went off and off and off some more then collapsed onto the other side of the bed.  Phew, all done...or was it?

I got up and went into my bathroom to get ready for bed and thought he would get the hint.  No such luck Christy!  I came out and there he was snuggled under the covers.  This was not something I was prepared for nor did I know what to do to get him to leave.  Go figure that a woman who plans everything didn't plan for her one night stand to turn into a slumber party.  This wasn't how it was supposed to happen.  Don't you have the sex and then leave?  Guys are famous for this so what did I do wrong?  I sat on my bed and said how great it was to meet him but I needed to get to sleep.  Jeremy then started to pull the covers back not in an attempt to go but rather to join him under them.  So I got back into bed and told him that I needed to get some rest because I had to leave town in the morning and it was going to be a long drive.  I figured if this guy wasn't going to leave then I had to at least make a point to let him know that I planned on sleeping, not more bad sex.  I set my alarm for 8am and as soon as it went off in the morning, I jumped up and got ready to leave for my imaginary road trip.  I walked into the bedroom after I was finished and there he was still under the covers and petting my dog!  Now I was getting very irritated and bluntly had to tell him that it was time to go.  Nope, still not that easy.  He said that he would stay and hang out with my dog and whenever I got back from my trip, he would be there.  It was official, the Lord was punishing me for my foolish and very slutty behavior.  As nice as I had been, I now had to get tough if I wanted him out of my bed and out of my life.  I forcefully insisted that he go and I was sorry but I wasn't comfortable leaving him there and he was making me late by procrastinating.   It worked!!  He got up, gathered his things and walked out the door with me.  I hugged him goodbye and said that we would talk soon.  Okay so I lied to him...or so I thought.

I ended up spending my day at a friend's house and told her of my sexcapade.  She was a bit judgemental but still insisted on every hideous detail.  Once the day was over and I felt the coast was clear, I went home.  Guess who was there in my driveway?  One guess...go ahead... that's right Jeremy!  Was this for real or was I just hallucinating from my overwhelming hangover?  I got out the car very annoyed and asked him what he was doing there.  He told me that he had left his cell phone in my bedroom and although he tried to break in to get it, he was not successful.  As we walked in, I was thinking up an excuse in my mind as to why I was home so soon from my long road trip.  Umm I was too hungover and turned around and came back or my car wasn't acting right or I came down with remorse flu...  He got his phone and asked if I wanted to hang out which before he could finish the question I said "NO"!  It might have been rude of me but at this point I was just done with the entire situation and wanted it to be over.  As he left, I gave him a pat on the back and said goodbye. 

If you have ever danced around the idea of a one night stand, please learn a lesson from my misery.  Not only should you plan out the date, but you should always be sure to have a plan in place for their departure.  You should also make sure that upon his or her exit, they have ALL of their belongings with them and leave not even a used tissue behind.  Furthermore, in this day and age (not that I'm that old) it really isn't the smartest or safest thing to do.  If you really need to have sex but don't have a partner, consider doing it with a friend.  Oh and ladies, if you get a chance to cop a feel of his merchandise before taking him home, do so.  If you can avoid bad kissing followed by even worse pencil penis sex by merely putting your hand below his equator, then do it.  Otherwise know that you only have yourself to blame, not the pencil.

Tuesday, October 11, 2011

Plus size submission.

One might ask why I keep hitting myself with a hammer?  I mean, we all know that the hammer is designed to pound nails into walls, make noise and inflict pain.  So the same could be said for online dating.  I know that it can cause pain but I am also aware that I need one in order to "get my nail pounded".  So I keep subjecting myself to the agonizing pain of online man hunting. 

If you are not aware or have not had to belittle yourself and join an online dating site, let me fill you in on how it works.  First of all, you have to create your profile.  This involves photos of yourself, likes and dislikes, your body type, what and who you are looking for, kids, pets and basically everything but your bra size (but trust me, a lot of pigs, er um I mean men, do ask that too).  Once you go live, you can start window shopping for your perfect specimen.  This also works the other way.  All sorts of men can check you out and oh do they ever.  Some are so hot that you think that they aren't real (some aren't) and there are others that are so horrendous that you hope they are tucked away in a prison cell for life (or should be).  Every now and then you get surprised by one that not only is good looking, but is also good on paper.  He makes a good living, likes dogs, not on social security, single and looking for more than a fling.  I was so fortunate to have one these rare breeds email me.  His name was Larry, 38 years old, never married, no children, owned his own home, great career and good looking.  What's the catch???  These men are so extremely hard to find and whenever I do happen to stumble across one, they are usually batting for the other team.  So imagine my shock when he contacted me! 

We did the obligatory email exchange and he was more witty with each one.  Then we moved on to the texting and phone calls.  He was still funny and even came through as charming.  After a week of this communication foreplay, he asked me out on a date.  He suggested meeting at Starbucks (which I never do as a first date) and then suggested that we meet for ice cream.  Don't rub your eyes, you read that right....ice cream!  No ice cream and cocktails or ice cream after dinner, just ice cream.  How does one dress for such a special event?  Do I dress in layers because an ice cream shop is cold or do I wear something cute and flattering because it is a first date?  Then again I could be completely overdressed because it is just ice cream.  After I gave this dilemma too much thought, I settled on shorts, cleavage flattering top, flats and made sure to do big hair and low key makeup.  There had to be some balance...a sexy single girl who enjoys the simple things.

I arrived to the ice cream shop on time and he was there waiting for me out front.  He looked just like his photos and might have even been a bit better looking.  I leaned in for a one armed hug and he went full in with both arms and squeezed me really hard.  I took that as a good sign.  We walked in and selected our treats.  We each got two scoops in a cone and went back out front to sit and talk.  It was a warm Las Vegas evening and so it made sense to dine out on the patio.  Yes, that was sarcasm. 

Larry was very talkative and very smooth.  He always made eye contact and was very engaging in the way he spoke to me.  So as soon as I finished my frozen goody, I went on to ask questions and to share a bit more about me.  We had a great exchange and I really enjoyed everything that he had to say (I never even got to count the 50 states).  He even said that he was looking forward to our next date and suggested seeing a show on the strip, no ice cream.  If you are waiting for the ball to drop... wait no more!  As the evening came to a close, we  touched on the topic of online dating.  He initiated the topic by asking what it was about his profile that made me interested enough to respond to his email.  I explained that I found him to be attractive, he seemed to have good qualities and it was enough to make me want to learn more and potentially get to know him better.  He seemed really pleased with my answer and then started to push his chair back to leave.  I should have just gotten up to leave but no, I had to turn the question back onto him.  I asked him what was it about me and my profile that had him interested enough to contact me?   Hang on, let me go grab a strong adult beverage before I tell you what happened next!

Okay, I am back with my Las Vegas Iced Tea.  I changed the name from Long Island because I like to keep it local.  Anyways, Larry  scooted himself back towards the table and grabbed my hand.  Ooh, this was getting serious.  I was a little turned on thinking he had something very flattering to say and who doesn't appreciate a compliment right?  He started off his list with my smile, blond hair, well spoken in my description, no children and that I wasn't on welfare.  He leaned in a bit closer and in a very soft spoken and sultry voice he said "I really like your size".  Okay, wait a second.  WHAT!??!!?  Larry then went on to say "I only date full size women because they appreciate a good looking, fit man and are very submissive".  Go ahead, go back and read that again.  You heard me.  He believed that bigger ladies are so thankful to have a good looking guy date them that they go above and beyond to please the man.  I now expected a film crew to appear and some obnoxious guy running out from behind a car telling me that it was a joke   No such luck!  I released my hand from his grip, pushed my chair back and told him that I appreciated our evening but it was time to go.  I turned to walk to my car and he followed me.  He got just enough ahead of me to stop me in my tracks.  He looked so shocked that I was leaving and asked me what the problem was.  I told him how ridiculous he was for saying that and further more how absurd it was to believe that.  I gave him the opportunity to say that he was kidding (which by the way, was not funny) or to elaborate in hopes that he could turn it around.  No, no no, it got worse.  He told me that women like "me" should be grateful that men like "him" even look at women like "us" and that when he dated women like "me", he found them to do anything and everything to please him.  He felt that there was nothing wrong with his belief and clearly I was the one with the issue.  I wanted so badly to hit him but instead I walked past him, got in my car and drove home.  I might have stopped by the bar first but eventually I made it home.

So again we ask, why do I keep hitting myself with a hammer? Because it feels so good when I stop.  I know that one day I will no longer be subjecting myself to the horror of first dates and possibly find a partner who doesn't expect me to call him master and thank him for taking a chance on a woman like "me".

Sunday, October 9, 2011

Check yourself before you wreck yourself!



I used to work in Podiatry and my days consisted of working on patients with diabetic foot wounds, fractures, heel pain, ingrown toe nails and fungal nails.  I know you're thinking that with all of that excitement, why would I want to date?  As shocking as it sounds, I still found time to search out "the one".  The majority of the foot patients were Medicare card carrying seniors and so I knew that I would have to journey out of the office to find a man...a younger man.

I was still shopping for men on the online dating site and there was one particular gent that I had been communicating with for a few weeks but our schedules just never allowed time for meeting.  One day the clouds parted and divine intervention made way for us to finally meet for dinner.  Since my apartment was far from work and the restaurant he chose was close to the office, I just brought everything to work to change into and freshen up with prior to our date.

I am pretty sure that on this particular day there was a special run on diabetic fungal nails because I had spent over 8 hours filing and clipping down yellow diseased toe nails.  That's it!  No fractures or ulcerated wounds.  The worst part was that by the time my shift ended, I only had enough time to change out of scrubs and spritz on perfume.  I got in the car and nervously drove to the restaurant.  My only hope was that the lighting would be poor and he would be partially blind.  After all, I didn't even have enough time to even fluff up my hair or apply a fresh coat of makeup. 

I had arrived a few minutes late and he had already text to say that he was at a table towards the back.  I walked in and found him (he actually looked like his photo).  He stood up and greeted me with a big hug and then we both took our seats.  I was very happy to see that our particular section was not well lit and there was only a small tea light candle on our table.  We exchanged small talk, browsed the menus, got cocktails and then ordered our dinners.  He asked a lot of questions about what I did for a living and was fascinated by the fact that I could be around feet all day and it not bother me.  I kept trying to shift the focus onto his profession (divorce attorney) and get some stories out of him because I am sure he had plenty.  He finally confessed that feet "gross him out" and never in a million years could he have a job that involved feet.  This was working to my advantage because not only did he now admire my ability to be around disgusting feet all day but I thought that I could quickly work my way into sainthood! 

After dinner, we ordered more cocktails and couldn't stop talking.  We talked about everything and there was an obvious attraction between us.  Before either of us knew it, we had been there all evening and the rest of the place was empty.  No sooner did he suggest we go downtown and listen to a band and spend more time together, the lights all came on in the restaurant.  The staff was clearly trying to drop a hint for us to shut up, pay the bill and leave.  He stood up and said he was going to go pay and then use the restroom and then we could go.  He walked over to my side of the table to kiss me and just as he got close to my lips, he pulled back with the most nauseated look on his face.  He immediately said in a high pitched voice "what is in your hair"????   I was horrified!  My first thought was that maybe it was a bug which would have freaked me out too!  He then started pointing and had put his other hand on his stomach and kept saying "what is it what is it"!?!?   I reached my hand up and pulled on my hair in the area he was pointing to and there it was, a yellow fungal toe nail chunk.  I wish I was kidding but nope, it was a toe nail clipping from one of the patients earlier that day.  I got it out and tossed it to the floor all the while trying to hang on some sort of dignity and trying not to look as mortified as I felt.  I tried to tell him why it was there and to assure him that it wasn't going to hurt him.  Forget it!  I couldn't finish my explanation because he interrupted and said that he couldn't handle that.  He was so repulsed by it that he said he was sorry but that was something that he was just not okay with and wished me luck, said goodbye and even turned around why I left.  He couldn't even look at me!  So I did the walk of shame out the doors and drove home cursing my date, my bad luck, and every single yellow toe nail in the world!  "Damn you fungus"!!!

As I write this I am thinking that yeah, maybe he overreacted or maybe I should have run a brush through my hair prior to the date?  Or maybe I just have to say that it takes a special woman to deal with disgusting feet by day and still have the desire to brave the dangerous world of dating by night.  I might just be entirely full of crap because not long after that horror... I resigned from podiatry. 

Thursday, October 6, 2011

Measuring tape




There was an incident this evening that inspired me to blog about it.  Hmmm, where to begin with this?  Well let's just dive in shall we?  So my "friend" from back in the day with whom I spent the long weekend with recently read my blog and clearly it struck a cord with him.  He had to make the oh so big decision to disconnect with me as a friend or has he put it "it cost me the friendship".   Let me sum up the message I received from him for you.  Basically, what turned him off from me and what I did wrong was want to keep communication with him.  Whoopsie, my mistake.  It was quite the turn off for him when I wanted  to talk and text such as we had prior to the trip.  It seemed "needy" to him.  It was also very "odd" that I knew he was online dating and how I knew that was also odd.  Funny enough he is the one that told me about the site he was on in the past.  Of course I knew.

So, why do I choose to share this with everyone?  I would like to deconstruct this situation and break it down because men just don't get it.  If any "man" out in the dating world reads this maybe it can shed some light for them but if it is only women, then I am sure they can relate.

1) Women don't like to be ignored.  It really is that simple.  The truth is far more appreciated even if hard to hear rather than silence.  Silence is really the chicken shit way to handle a situation.  If you go from talking, texting or communicating in some way daily and then you just stop, we will ask why.  We will worry, want to know why and try to get in touch with you.  That doesn't make us "needy", that makes us normal for wanting to know what changed.  If you were into a girl and you both talked everyday, spent time together and then it all stopped, trust me you would try to find out why and would be butthurt!

2)  Men very much like to say that they don't want women with baggage or drama but what I am learning is that men definitely measure the new woman to the past women.  If your last girlfriend wanted to know where you were all of the time, didn't believe you when you told her or broke into your house to deliver gifts does not mean that me texting and wanting to chat with you equals the same person or behavior.  For that matter, if you were ever with someone long term and they were not giving you much attention or affection then maybe you have issues with someone that does.

3)  This might and hopefully will be the most obvious statement.   Listen up men because this is important.  If we connect with you emotionally and then connect with you sexually and still want to be with you, we are going to make an effort to be with you.  If you gentlemen decide that it just isn't your cup of tea then we would like to know ASAP.  Waiting for the phone to ring is something we all gave up long ago and to leave us doing so at this age is ridiculous and down right disrespectful.  If you don't have to balls to tell us, then don't wait for us to do or say something that you can use as your excuse to not want anything further to do with us.  Even an email or the easy way out text is your choice, it sure beats you pointing the finger after you are the one doing the childish silence game.

4) Women don't measure the strength of a man by the amount of guns they own, how many animals they kill for sport, or even the size of their penis.  Or the amount of women you've been with doesn't make you a stud, it makes you a player.  Not sexy.

So it is pretty simple.  Be honest, if you are done then be done and tell us so we can move on.  Also, don't measure up the next girl to the last one.  We may all have boobs but we are not the same.  Most importantly, if we text you or want to (God forbid) talk to you, it doesn't make us needy or crazy.  It means we like you.  I know that one is tough to swallow but grab a drink and suck it down.

On a personal note, if you don't like what I have to say, don't read it. 

The almighty glory hole...



I am rewinding a bit to the time when I first moved to Las Vegas 3 years ago and was online shopping...er um I mean dating.  I met a guy on the internet who appeared to be normal and yes I am using that term very loosely.  His name was Jarod, 39 years old, single father of a 10 year old son and had his own business.  So far so good right?  After several exchanges, we decided to meet for lunch while I was at work.  Ladies, this is a genius idea!  Typically you only have an hour for lunch and so if the date goes sour, you don't need an excuse to get out of the date because you already have one built in.  "I'm sorry, I have to get back to work.  My boss is a bitch and I can't be a minute late".  On the other hand, if the lunch date goes really well then he at least has an idea where you work so he can send you flowers. 

We met at a deli next door one day and he was not quite as cute as his photos showed.  I am thinking that he posted pics that were taken around the age of 21 not 39.  Being the non superficial and non judgemental angel that I am, I dismissed the lies in his appearance.  We exchanged chit chat over sandwiches and I wasn't excited but wasn't entirely bored either.  The big indicator of my boredom is when I find myself trying to name the 50 states in my head.  On this date I only made it to California, Nevada and Utah before I was pulled back into the conversation.  This was a good sign.  The hour was up quickly and I hugged him goodbye then got back to work.  He had text me that he found me to be pretty, funny and couldn't wait to see me again.  My toes didn't curl over him but I would give him a shot.

We started seeing each other in October and this lasted until Christmas time.  During this time I always felt like there was something just a bit "off" about him but couldn't figure it out.  He would cook amazing meals for me, send flowers often, have little gifts on my doorstep when I got home from work and my mom even liked him.  The only guy that my mom has ever approved of was the one ended up coming out of the closet.  For the record, he and I are still the best of friends to this day.  Okay back to Jarod.  We got along really well as friends and always had fun together.   There was occasional kissing and minor fooling around but overall I just wasn't feeling that spark.  We never had sex together and he would act like he wanted to but I couldn't even fake my into it. 

Fast forward to Christmas time and we had gone up to Lake Tahoe to my sister in law's house.  I had purchased a new couch for her and we drove it up.  We were there a few days and while in bed together one evening and after consuming several cocktails I had enough "spark" in me to try a little fun under the flannel sheets.  Things got heated and he started saying "No, no, no...don't do that, I don't want to get excited".  Are you joking Jarod????   I just got all hopped up on spiked egg nog and now you don't want it?  So I rolled over and went to sleep.  After we got back to Vegas, I ended it.  There was nothing physically there and he was a friend but this wasn't going to go anywhere.  I gave him the breakup speech "we can be friends...it's me not you...thank you for everything".   I walked away from it still scratching my hair extensions wondering what was it about him? 

A year had passed and he started texting me out of the blue wanting to know how I was, my dog, my family etc...  We exchanged friendly texts and then I got the message.  "You were always so easy to talk to and I can trust with you anything so I have to share something with you".  I could suddenly hear the theme song to Jaws playing in my head.  I knew this was not going to be good.  I stupidly replied with "sure, what's going on"?   I did not get any explanation or warning just two photos in one message.  Are you ready for this, are you sitting down?  I would have a trash can ready because this is about to get disgusting.  Brace yourself and just know that you were warned.  The first photo was of him giving oral sex to a penis through a glory hole.  The next photo was the final product which included Jarod and a mouth full of umm well, let's call it glory juice.  He took the pictures of himself pleasuring a strange man's penis at some random glory hole room in an adult store!  Let's take a pause to vomit...

Welcome back! 

What do I say after all of this?  I text the only thing I could say which was "What the hell??"  His response was asking me if it was too much or did I want to see more?   REALLY?!?!?!  Umm yeah I'm good, that was plenty, thanks!  It took me some time to be able to reply but when I did I had to ask if he was gay and that's how he chose to tell me?  Guess what!  He claims that no he was not a homosexual but it turned him on to give head to strange men and just something he enjoyed, period.  He had kept it a secret and needed to get it off his chest and out of his mouth apparently.  So I thanked him for trusting me (cough cough) and told him to be safe. 

I'm sure you are thinking that this is about as real as silicone breasts but I assure you, this is the honest truth (except for his name).  The moral of this sick sad story is that if you feel like there is something not right or just a bit off, go with your instincts and maybe check his bathroom wall for unnecessary holes.

Wednesday, October 5, 2011

Some call it Mars and Venus but I prefer to call it the heart vs. the penis.


This topic has been around for ages and never seems to have a different conclusion.  We've all heard it before "Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus".  Men bring home the bacon and the women cook it, wash the dishes, put the kids to bed, clean the house and top off the evening with a blow job for their man.  As much as we would all like the believe that men and women are equal and that we are evolving in our roles, I don't think much has changed. 

Even though I have not been married, not putting kids to bed or cooking anybody's bacon I do experience the challenges and large differences between the sexes.  You don't need to live with the opposite sex to know how different we are.  All you have to do it go on one date or merely exchange a text message and poof, instant antithesis. 

Recently I had learned a hard lesson on this particular topic.  I believe what had happened was I scared away yet another man in my quest to find love.  I had reconnected with an old friend from school through social networking and we had exchanged flirtatious emails, texts and eventually phone calls.  We had so much to catch up on (over 20 years worth) and there was never an awkward silence.  It was great!  As the days went on, I would find myself smiling more and eagerly looking at my phone in hopes to find a witty text from him.  I told him that he had put a new smile on my face that hadn't been there in awhile in which he replied with "you make me smile too".  As time as well as many inappropriate conversations passed, we agreed on spending time together.  He lives in California and I of course live in Vegas.  So I took one for the team and we agreed that I would fly out there for a long weekend.

As the trip approached, our conversations got to be more involved and deeper than flirtation.  We covered all sorts of topics including distance, divorce, disease and the most important topic...weight!  Oddly enough, he was the first one to bring this up as a concern.  He had shared that whenever I call him handsome, or good looking he laughs to himself and thinks "just wait until she sees me".  I had seen his photos and vice versa and I was attracted to what I had seen.  Granted, it had been many years and things change but I still liked what I had seen.  Yes, he had put on a bit of weight but I am the last one to care about that or judge someone for it.  I have always been overweight and what sort of asshole would I be to not want to be with someone for their own excess.  I explained that I didn't care, that I was very attracted to him in so many ways and if anyone has that concern, it is me!  After all, I have been dealing with the weight issue my entire life so of course I understand it.  In some strange way it was almost comforting to know that I wasn't the only going into this possible relationship worried about how I look (for a change).

The day arrived for my trip up there and after only a 45 minutes of sleep, I fixed my hair, did my makeup, shaved everything and put on a cleavage flattering dress.  I grabbed my bag and got on the plane.  Not only was our plane late but once everyone was seated, we pulled away from the gate and sat on the runway.  Then it happened... we had all heard the words that you don't want to hear on a flight.  "Sorry folks, we are experiencing a technical problem and have to wait for the maintenance team to board the aircraft".  WHAT!??!!?  Shouldn't that be followed by "We are going to board a different plane" or at the very least "Our crew will be coming by and passing out Valium with a shot of tequila".  To make matters worse, the problem is large enough that an entire team was called, not just one handy man!  After an hour of silent prayer, no cabin air flow and my large hair flattening out, the pilot came on to say "Good news, the light bulb has been changed and we'll be on our way shortly".  Okay wait a minute, I'm sorry...WHAT?!  A light bulb, are you freakin' kidding me???   I just wrote my will on a napkin and it was merely a burnt out bulb.  Was this all a well lit neon sign that I shouldn't go? 

I finally arrived and made one stop to the bathroom to assess and try to salvage what was left of my appearance.  My stomach was in knots and I was very nervous.  I finally forced myself out the doors and met him at his car.  He greeted me with a friendly pat on the back bullshit guy hug which made me even more nervous.  We had a long drive back to his house and so in my normal nervous behavior I proceeded to talk my head off.  Bla bla bla, giggle giggle giggle.  When I'm nervous I either vomit or can't shut up.  I chose the latter in this case.  Nothing says sexy more than a girl throwing up in your lap, right?  Needless to say, once we were settled in his house and cocktails were poured, I loosened up.  We sat and talked about everything.  Everything felt so comfortable and easy.  Eventually, things got heated up between us and we spent a lot of time on the couch like two teenagers afraid of getting caught by their parents.  There was quite a bit of making out and certain deeds below the equator.   It was very sexy and we were very compatible in this department.

We ended up spending our long weekend together like two people that were in a new relationship.  We were very at ease in each other's presence and had enjoyed a lot of physical benefits as well.  Anyone watching from the outside (let's hope they weren't) would have thought that we were very happy together.  The day came where I had to leave and we said goodbye.  Now I know you are wondering, when am I going back right?  Join the club!  I have not been invited back and in fact, he is happily fishing for women on an online dating site.   The text messages occurred here and there but they were texts I would have sent to a neighbor.  "How's your day" and "What's new"? 

My honest conclusion of this particular situation is that I got into that situation with my heart wide open and he got into it with his legs wide open.  I believe that in all of our conversations that the one subject that we didn't address was what we wanted out of it.  In my past experience I learned that approaching this topic was the quickest way to get a man to run in the other direction so it never occurred to me to bring it up with him.  Maybe this was the time I was to break the rule?  Well, you know what they say... hindsight is a clear seeing bitch or was it 20/20?  Either way, these revelations make you want to get drunk, build a time machine and go back and fix what went wrong.   

So I am bagging up that experience and putting it in the closet. I can only hope that the next one will want the sex and the relationship but I won't hold my breath.

Tuesday, October 4, 2011

Manners Are Free...Drinks Are Not!


Let's dive in shall we?  I am rewinding a bit to the time that I found myself suddenly single after being in a long term engagement with a man (if you can call him that) and back in the dating world.  My friends offered to set me up with blind dates as well as suggested joining an internet dating site.  After much thought, I decided to go on a dating website.  I arrived at that conclusion after the realization that I had no idea what or who I was attracted to anymore.  All I knew was that I had zero interest in a man who was a spineless, cheating, moron whose idea of a hot date was taking me to Barnes and Noble.  Other than that, I had no idea what lit my fire.  I joined Cupid.com and the search began.  I created my profile and put up as much information about me as I thought was important to prospective suitors.  Then I hit the "search" button and started looking for men.  This was fantastic!  I love shopping and now I can do it for my perfect mate from the comfort of my own home.   Page by page I found men from all walks of life.  Tall, short, big, small, bald, grey, tattoos, kids, divorce...you name it!  It was a buffet of testosterone and I was hungry.  I have to admit that all of this stud shopping was exhausting and once I realized that they all started looking the same, it was time to take a break and let them come to me. 

The next day I felt like a child on Christmas morning awaiting my gifts.  What did Santa Cupid bring me?  I dove in and found quite a few emails from men wanting to get to know me.  There was one in particular that stood out from the crowd.  His name was Kyle, single dad, construction worker, dog lover with nipple piercings.  PERFECT!  This was a far cry from the ex loser (except he was also a single dad) and the nipple rings were an exciting bonus.  I nervously replied trying to be as witty and cute as I possibly could in written word.  After a few emails and two phone calls, we agreed to meet for dinner. 

The day of my first internet dinner date I had gotten my roots done, nails polished and bought a new outfit.  We agreed to meet at a barbecue restaurant half way between where we live.  Not to mention it was well lit and always busy which equaled a safe first date with a stranger.  As I approached the entrance, Kyle was just getting off of his motorcycle and said my name.  I turned and saw exactly what I had seen in photos.  He gave me a huge hug and opened the door for me.  So far so good.  He told the hostess that he wanted a table in the bar and we were seated.  He ordered two drinks from the waitress and chose the drinks himself.  I had no input in the drink decision which annoyed me but I went with the flow.  After all, I was still new to this form or dating.  Maybe the rules had changed while I was away in unhappyland?  Once the drinks arrived, he started the small talk about his son, the weather, sports and his motorcycle.  This went on as he swallowed his drink.  No sooner did he slurp loudly in an effort to indicate the glass was empty, he stood up and excused himself to the restroom. 

15 minutes had passed and I was beginning to think that this poor guy either had a case of diarrhea or was reenacting the scene from "A League of their Own" where Tom Hanks peed for 10 minutes in the girls locker room.  By now the waitress approached me to see if I needed anything.  I told her that I was fine but I was worried about my date who went to the bathroom awhile ago.  She looked a bit stunned and said "Oh that guy left already".  WHAT??!!  The look on my face must have given off quite a state off horror because the waitress quickly then said "maybe he went outside to use his phone".  At that point, I knew the game was over and I surrendered.  The waitress must have felt bad for me because in the most sympathetic tone told me to go see if he is outside and if he wasn't, the drinks were on her.  I thanked her and put a $20 on the table and left.  

Kyle may have had nipple rings but clearly was lacking in the testicle department.  This boy did not have the balls to say that I wasn't his type or even to play the "I got an emergency call and have to go" card.  Granted, I know those calls are bullshit but it would have been far better than leaving me to believe you had a case of the trots in the bathroom. 

Like most of my friends response, I am sure you are thinking that I should have called, text, emailed or put out a hit on him but I did not.  I let it go because I knew that there was no point.  He couldn't be honest so why would he be if I called?  Don't you worry because low and behold months later, he wandered into the urgent care that I worked at.  Yes, you heard me!  He did not recognize me in my scrubs, glasses, hair up and less makeup but I knew exactly who he was.  I was professional at first and when it was time to discharge him I managed to pull off quite the performance.  I was rattling off medication instructions and then looked surprised and said "wait a minute I remember you".  Smiling away, he responded with "oh, do our kids go to school together"?  Still smiling and sweet I said "No, you and I had a date and you left me in the bar and took off".  His smile quickly shot south and he could no longer look at me.  Quietly under his breath he said "oh yeah" and hopped off of the exam table.  I handed him his paperwork and prescriptions and was sure to say "if you don't get better, be sure to come back".  That was all I needed.  It wasn't worth losing my job over and I did feel a bit better however, I was still out $20 and a large sum of self esteem.

Look Kyle, manners are free and drinks are not.  So next time you plan on splitting and leaving a girl at the table with drinks and the tab... make sure you let her order a beverage of  her choosing so having to pay for it doesn't taste so bitter!

Monday, October 3, 2011

You didn't ask for it but you're going to get it. You can thank me later.



"I am a vampire". 

That's right you heard me.  Those were the exact words uttered to me while I was on a date in 2006.  It doesn't stop there, in fact, it only gets better.  In the 36 years of my life, I have yet to be married or find a mate who meets my long term relationship criteria but I have had more dates than handbags!  I find myself begging the universe and God to throw me a bone and yelling out WHY?!!?  So recently after yet another failed date, I realized what I can do with hand dealt to me in dating poker...  BLOG about it.  Why didn't I think of this before?  Surely I am not the only girl out there who is full figured, single, over thirty, no kids and still dating.. or am I?  There have to be others out there like me who probably know better than to lay out the details of their messy lives on the Internet right?  I am also sure that there are many out there who can relate to the struggles of finding a mate and clothes that fit.  So here it is, the sad but true account of my many mishaps in relationships, love and occasional wardrobe malfunctions.  Oh and not to worry, I will get back to that Twilight wannabe of a date a bit later.

Now I suppose that I should throw in the obligatory disclaimer:

1) I have changed the names in my stories not so much to protect the innocent but rather to avoid getting shot, strangled or sued. 

2)  I am not doing this to hurt anybodies feelings or embarrass anyone except for maybe myself.

3)  My grammar, punctuation and spelling may not always be perfect but I did not major in English or writing in college.

4)  If you don't like what I have to say or the choices I have made then stop reading it, move on and get a sense of humor.

5)  The events may not be in any specific order, but I guarantee that trying to remember each and every one in the exact order that it happened is far from easy.

6)  It is always important to remind ourselves that no one is perfect except for maybe my dog Katie.  Let's be honest, I am the one that raised her.

7)  Most importantly, if you happen to be a relative of mine then I would strongly encourage you to not bring any of this up in front of my mother.  She still thinks me of as her little bundle of joy (stop laughing).



Now that I have gotten that out of the way, be sure to sit back, relax, enjoy my turmoil and perhaps send a few Xanax my way.