A date in the life...

A date in the life...

Wednesday, January 16, 2013

Love on a hanger

Before you ask, yes, my glass is full of red liquid goodness.  Question is, why isn't yours?

Before I continue sharing about my big journey that I am on of weight loss and discovery, I feel the need to share a dating story.  This particular situation occurred literally the month before I started my quest to get fit.  The reason I point that out is purely because most days before I started to change my life, I clearly felt that it was more important to love someone else rather than myself.  In fact, you can probably see that pattern in most of these disaster stories.  If I had loved myself, I wouldn't have put up with such bullshit for as long as I have.  Not to worry, just because I am shedding the pounds doesn't mean I won't be dating or sharing stories.  I have so many left in my arsenal that I have yet to put out there.  Believe me, I look forward to writing about the guy who had to have the show "South Park" on while we had sex or the guy who left me alone in the dark on a mountain one night because I wouldn't give him head.  Don't judge me, it was only the first date and we went dutch on dinner.    However, tonight's little treat is about a man who needs to be evicted from the closet he is clearly residing in.

I expect that you are now sharing an adult beverage with me.  I am on round two so catch up!

So, this an unconfirmed case of closet homosexually but I hope that you share your conclusion after you finish reading.  I have carefully selected a faux name for this guy because we don't need to add lawsuit on top of the humiliation he already caused me.  So everyone please welcome to the page, "Nick".  If you are familiar with me at all or let's be honest, have met me, you will know that I have been internet dating over the last few years.  I don't attend church (anymore), I never meet my soul mates in line at Starbucks (nor do I go there) or pick up dudes while also picking up cucumbers in the produce department.  So yes, I am an online dater.  If I can shop for discount designer shoes on the internet, why not men?  So I stumbled across this 6'6" hunky piece of meat on the site and after reading his profile, I was intrigued.   Let me break it down for you.  Nick was 40 years old and divorced.  He has two kids that he has every other weekend.  He has light brown hair and at that time, full facial hair.  He is a computer tech guy for a big company here in Las Vegas.  I never understood what he did, I just know that he had 3 side by side computer screens on his desk in his office and talked about internal errors, megabytes and other crap that just doesn't interest me. All I care about it is that my computer turns on/off and let's me surf porn while buying things I don't need.  He was also into martial arts and in fact, he was a black belt and taught classes a few nights a week.  Here's the thing, once I read the part about the karate, I was sort of hooked.  This sick attraction stems way back to my childhood and the huge crush I had on Ralph Macchio.  Wax on... wax off!  Towards the end of his profile, he said that he was looking for a long term relationship and not into games.  In fairness, who actually says in their bio that they love playing games and full of drama?  So I contacted  Nick and told him that if he wanted to get to know me then write back.  Boom!  Within a few minutes, I had a response.

I may sound a bit feisty but I started drinking much earlier tonight while at a jewelry store event I was invited to.  I figured, why stop there?  So I kept the wine party going when I got home.  Cheers!

Nick responded with a simple message.  He wrote "Nice to meet you Christy.  I am Nick and would love to talk on the phone.  Here is my number...".  Normally that would've irritated me right off the bat because anyone who says that it is nice to meet me without actually meeting me, is a bit of an idiot.  I didn't play the game of waiting for awhile to call because I am not getting any younger and I didn't put in my profile that I play games.  I called and he answered after the first ring.  I introduced myself and he seemed very surprised that I called so soon.  I must say that the lad had quite the deep and very sexy voice.  That is such a turn on because I immediately imagine the sexy things he could say to me in bed.  We agreed to meet the very next night after a really long talk on the phone.  He seemed straight forward (like me) and very down to earth.  No muss no fuss.  The next night we met at a bar.  We sat out on the patio where it was more quiet complete with a fireplace.  After four hours of conversation and witty banter, we walked out to say goodnight.  In the PG version, I got in my car in left.  In reality, I kissed him for a long time in his car while 80's music played on the stereo.  As I drove home that night, I thought about everything I learned about him and decided that I may just like him.  The next day, he had text me several times including once to ask if I would go out to dinner with him for sushi with him that evening.  I agreed and that night, we went out to dinner.  It was one of those great dinner dates where he ordered all different types of sushi and after so many bites, he would lean over and kiss me.  I was really digging this guy.  He took control and ordered my dinner and showed me public affection.  Let's not forget the sexy voice.  Of course we acted like teenagers and made out in the car after we finished.  We continued to go out on several dinner dates, went shopping for a new TV together for his new house, had a picnic, went to the movies and just had fun together.  Things were going swimmingly.  

So what could go wrong?  Pour yourself a glass and I will tell you.

After all of the time we had been spending together, he asked me to come over to his house for dinner and a movie on a Friday night.  He suggested that I bring my toothbrush and stay the night.  Yep, you guessed it!  It was time to take our make out sessions one step further and have sex.  Naturally I paid a visit to my favorite waxer that afternoon and then proceeded with a long shower.  I packed a few items into my bag and arrived promptly at his house.  He had been cooking and had the table set complete with candles and red wine (good boy).  After dinner, we watched movie that was supposed to be a comedy about a guy with cancer but of course, there is nothing funny about cancer.  He turned out the lights, took me by the hand and led me upstairs.  Here we go!  We got right down to business.  I was so turned on and excited and before you know it, we were having sex.  Let me be more specific, as soon as he got hard, he then got soft.  That's right, the actual penetration lasted less than a minute.  He couldn't keep it hard.  He laid down next to me, apologized then turned over and wouldn't say a word.  Eventually he fell asleep but I just couldn't.  I was mortified.  Why did he go limp?  Was it me?  Was he not a fan of the brazilian wax job?  I was stumped.  The next morning, I got my things and told him I had to get home for a hair appointment.  I know, I know, there is no such thing as getting your roots done at 6am but he didn't need to know that. We had an awkward goodbye and I drove home still wondering what went wrong.  A few hours later, he text me saying he was spending the weekend with gay buddy from work who just went through a breakup and would call me Monday.  Seriously?!?  48 hours ago you couldn't get enough of me and now you'll talk to me Monday?  Monday rolled around and as promised, Nick called and after small talk, he apologized for the failed attempt at sex.  He explained that he must've just been nervous and would like a chance to make it right.  We agreed to meet up on Thursday and go out to dinner then have dessert at his place.  As planned, we had a nice meal together then went straight to his house.  We had both communicated just how eager we were to try again so we wasted no time once we got to his home.  Clothes were thrown all over the room and there we were back to bed.  To my surprise, this time he didn't last a minute.  Nope, he lasted 30 seconds before going soft.  UGH!  Once again, he rolled over and said that he was sorry.  I got dressed and said I was going home.  

How does such a fairy tale end?  

Nick did not call or text for several days after that night.  I was okay with that because I was really embarrassed and confused.  Finally he text and said that he didn't know what the problem was and he was so sorry about it.  We exchanged a lot of communication that week and stupidly, I agreed to see him on Friday night.  I went to his house for dinner and afterwards we sat on the couch watching "Will and Grace".  Before the episode could end, he suggested we go upstairs.  Reluctantly I went up and once we got to his bed, said that he was going to try something different.  He then turned out all the lights (not different Nick), and told me to get on all fours.  No sooner did I do as he said, we were having full blown sex.  30 seconds went by then a minute (already a record best) then many minutes and before you know it, he stayed hard and managed to complete the transaction.  Once finished, he dropped down to the bed and caught his breath.  After his breathing normalized, he told me that doing it from behind was going to be the only way he could have sex with me and that the room had to be dark.  Oh, one important bit I left out was that he told me to be quiet and try not to make any noise while we were doing it.   Let's deconstruct this situation.  He couldn't keep it up while missionary.  He liked the room dark. The sex had to be from behind.  I wasn't allowed to make noise and he was ready to go after watching a TV show about gay guys and straight girls.  Sadly, this isn't my first rodeo with a homosexual guy so with that in mind, I got dressed and got the hell out of his house.  No goodbye and no bullshit excuse, just left.  The very next day I got a text message that said "Christy, you are a really nice girl and we have so much fun but I feel that you are too clingy and that's not for me.  Good luck and take care".  I'm sorry, I am too clingy?  Not only is Nick gay but he is also an asshole!  Oh the irony.  After I was able to pick my jaw up off of the floor, I replied to his text in the best way I saw fit.  "Oh Nick, the only thing I was clinging to was the idea that you were straight."  I never heard from him again.  

My bottle is empty which means I need to end this sad story...

As the pounds continue to come off of my body, I am discovering that the Christy that has been buried under all that weight will no longer kid herself into thinking that giving men like Nick that many chances is acceptable.  After that first night of failed sex, I should've talked to him about it.  I should've figured out by simple conversation whether or not to give him one more chance.  I didn't need to keep belittling myself in his bedroom.  I really believed somehow that his lack of wood was directly related to the size of my body.  Wrong!  It wasn't me at all but yet I believed it was.  So my friends, no matter how much you weigh, if a man is gay, it doesn't matter how you look.  Until you produce a penis, there isn't a chance in hell.   Just ask Nick.

Goodnight and sweet dreams

Tuesday, January 8, 2013

Raise your glass!

Happy New Year!  What a difference a year makes!  I know what you are thinking... where in the hell have I been?  You might've thought that I was fulfilling my life long dream of laying on my back in a winery in France and letting the juice of the Gods flow.  Perhaps Steve Martin finally came to his senses and gave in to my numerous requests to live happily ever after together?  Better yet, I won the lottery and spend my days drunk and blowing money on bags and shoes?  Well, the answer is D, none of the above.  However, if you guessed that I was busy losing over 100lbs and participating in a reality show, then you'd be correct.  Not to worry, just because my current idea of a meal is lettuce and a grain of brown rice doesn't mean that I have given up on my best friend Merlot and his trusty sidekick Cabernet Sauvignon.  On a 1500 calorie a day intake, surely there is room for a glass (or 2) of wine.  You can have the chocolate but you will never take away my red headed love.   Besides, grapes are good for you and count as a serving of fruit.

Go ahead and grab your glass of "grapes".

Although I would prefer writing about my earth shattering dates with Steve Martin, they haven't happened.  That doesn't mean that they won't it just means that he hasn't come to his senses yet. So I have decided to touch on a topic that everyone can relate to in one form or another, weight loss.  Whether you are already skinny but struggle with that pesky 5lbs or you are near 400lbs and just can't get off that last 250lbs, it is something that seems to effect a great deal of us.  Recently I was on a flight and this guy sat next me who was dressed decently and have a few extra pounds on him but not enough to be considered a fatty.  During the flight he was chatting me up about his home in the Hollywood Hills and the cities he travels to around the world for work.  This conversation not only had me ordering several in flight adult beverages but also made me think that he is just a typical douche bag flaunting a lifestyle that he doesn't actually have.    Once he stopped sharing the details of his life, he asked me what I did for a living.  In an effort to get him to lose interest in me, I told him that I was spending this year losing weight.  Let's face it, one of the biggest turn offs to a man is the mere suggestion of fat.  I don't care how large his erection gets, talk about obesity and that thing goes more limp than a gay man at a girly strip club.  This was the one exception to that rule.  Suddenly my talkative stranger seemed interested in what I had to say.  Not quite the reaction I expected.  I went on to tell him about the amount of weight I had lost so far and that led to a series of questions regarding my diet and exercise regime.  He then shared that he had about 20 extra pounds that he was struggling with and how he has hired trainers and nutritionists but just couldn't get that weight off.  Before we knew it, the flight was over and we parted ways.  He gave me his business card and asked me to stay in touch and maybe I could help him shed a pound or two.  That weekend I was in my hotel room and decided to look this guy up online.  Thanks to Google, I discovered that this man was a very successful billionaire.  Not millions but billions.  I spent the next hour reading about his list of accomplishments and how he could own just about anything in this world.  What is the point of this might you ask?  Maybe he should've paid for my bottles of wine on the flight?  Okay well besides that, I learned two important lessons by this experience.  First one is that you never know who you might meet on a plane.  As much as they may be full of shit, they also might just be legit.  The most important lesson I took away from this was that it doesn't matter who you are or what you have, weight is something that we have in common.  Let's be honest, the only thing I had in common with this guy was that we both like money (and wine).   Since that flight, we now exchange emails and talk about food and workouts.   He wasn't such a douche bag after all.

Man, this wine glass isn't big enough.  This constant refilling is annoying.  Must look into buying one of those glasses that holds an entire bottle in it.

Since my Donald Trump encounter, I have found myself in the middle of many conversations with all different types of people about weight.  What is interesting is that people seem more open to discuss sex with total strangers rather than fat.  "Hi, my name is Eric and I like anal sex".  The crowd nods and looks sympathetic and supportive.
"Hi, my name is Christy and I am 200lbs overweight".  The room gasps and no one makes eye contact with me.
Why is this?  Seriously, how likely are we to walk into a room with 100 random people and discover that we all enjoy a little back door action in bed?  Okay so I might be one of "those" people but I guarantee that the other 99 strangers don't all feel the same way (don't knock it until you try it).  However, I believe that in that same room of people, each and every person could say that there is or was a time that they were carrying extra weight and/or uncomfortable with their bodies.  This theory has led me to realize that I should be more open about it and share my life long experience with fat and the loss of it.  I clearly have no problem with being an open book about my dating disasters and the total idiots I have wasted my time on so why not speak candidly about obesity as well?

Refill time...

I turned 37 back in September(gasp, gulp) and it was the first birthday I have had where my wish wasn't to lose weight while blowing out my candles.  This time I was actually down almost 100lbs since May and counting.  Now I am aware that saying my wish out loud won't make it come true but I am willing to take that chance for the sake of my blog.  My wish was to be happy.  This isn't the wine talking, I really did wish to be genuinely happy.  Don't get me wrong, I haven't been outwardly miserable my entire life but in all fairness, I may always wear a big smile and laugh instead of cry but inside, I was sad and often times a lonely mess.  Looking back on photos of my life, there were two things you'd see.  I was always big and always smiling.  When I was really young, I somehow learned that if I laughed instead of cried, then no one would catch on that I hated being so big.  The more comfortable I acted about my body, then those around me would follow suit.  Damn I was a smart kid!  I have 3 older brothers and look like none of them.  Growing up, they were all fit and good looking.  Then there was me.  Back in 1975, there had to be quite a few of those hospital mix ups right?    Regardless, I grew up in a family where I couldn't relate to them in more ways than just physical.  So I had developed and mastered the art of "faking it".  This would be a skill that got me through bullying, job interviews, awkward moments and many bad sexual encounters.  After all these years, I am now peeling back the layers of fat and discovering just who I am.  Let me tell you this, losing weight is far more than just unwanted pounds.  Shedding the weight is actually proving to be easier than the emotional uncovering that goes along with it.  So why am I telling you all of this?  My thought is that if we are all more open about such a taboo topic of obesity, then maybe it will become easier.  Maybe we all won't so be scared of something that is so common.  Better yet, we might be more supportive of one another rather than so judgmental.  Okay, that was deep I know and I will be careful not to that it happen too often.  So, if you happen to log on and read my blog, just know that it will now contain my journey of self discovery.  This transformation will also include dating, sex, plenty of red wine and the sad truth.

Before I go on with stories and humiliation, I must go buy some more Merlot.  Let's be honest, this glass isn't going to fill itself.  Not to mention, I need to fulfill my daily serving of fruit.  Like I said, grapes count!

Cheers to 2013!