There are some unwritten rules for first dates that are usually a good idea to follow. The man should generally at least offer to pay, the woman shouldn’t give it up the goods and alcohol, in my opinion, should almost always be involved.
I get an email from the sole website that I am still on telling me I’ve got mail. It’s Sunday and for the moment I don’t have a whole lot going on so I check it out. I get a message from “Matt”. He’s local and I decide to at least respond to his email and see what happens, even though his picture on the site is not particularly flattering, but I’m trying not to be shallow. After all I don’t want a man to not give me a shot just because I’m not thin.
We email back and forth a few times. He uses proper spelling and grammar which is always a pleasure and he actually asks for my phone number and if he can text me which is so rare so I decide to go for it. We get to texting, asking each other the typical “get to know you questions” what he does for a living, hobbies, pets, kids, etc….. and then his living situation comes up. He lives with his dad. I know the economy is bad, I know times are tough and people do what they have to do, and I get it. Still it’s somewhat disappointing that at 43 he still lives with mom and dad but it’s not entirely a deal breaker.
A few texts later he starts to ask about my kids, which for me is always scary. As a single parent I know I’m a package deal and yes, I understand the need for a man to know what he’s getting himself into but worry about that shit when you know you’re going to stick around for Pete’s sake. I give him very basic, non-descript information. Then he asks for their picture. WTF? You haven’t even asked for my picture yet. The creeper flag is now a flyin! I try not to jump to any conclusions but now for sure I am weirded out. I guess this gets him thinking and now he asks for my picture. No prob, I’ve got my facebook pic on my phone for just such an occasion. I then of course have to ask for his and WHOA. Really fucking hideous. I mean if I thought his picture on the website was mediocre this one is scary beyond words! I decide to end the conversation for the evening and pray I don’t have nightmares.
The next day he sends me a text at lunch telling me he’s thinking about me and hopes I have a great day and is looking forward to talking to me later. I, of course, think that’s very sweet and my black heart lightens just a little.
He texts me that evening and asks me if I would go to dinner with him. I figure one date won’t kill me. I'll at least give him the benefit of the doubt. I mean after all it is free food and drinks. Then he asks if I like Golden Corral. For those of you not familiar with this establishment, it’s a buffet style restaurant. As a large woman and someone at least mildly concerned with the sanitary conditions of my food I personally try to avoid them. I just have these visions of some snot nosed kid running around touching everything, especially the chocolate fountain. Gross. Besides, if I agree to Golden Corral on a first date where does it go when he gets comfortable? Bowling alley food? Midnight fast food run? Perhaps a steaming cup of Ramen Noodles?
And so that my friends, is the end of this little adventure, he just doesn’t know it yet. I wrestle with myself the next day on whether or not I should try to break it to him gently or take the “I don’t owe him a damn thing attitude”. I, always one to be the bigger person, at least to their face, tell him that I’m really overwhelmed with school, and work and kids, and I just decided that this really isn’t the right time for me to be dating. Which I never really know if that’s the right thing to do. I mean, maybe he’s a fragile soul and needs a woman to lie to him as to not hurt his feelings but then again maybe he’s the type that would benefit from someone actually stopping and telling him the truth. Either way ain’t my problem. Let the next bitch worry about that shit. I’m out!
Thursday, July 12, 2012
Thursday, April 19, 2012
A Few Colonel's Short of a Bag of Popcorn
We all know “that guy”. Sure it might be a different “that guy” for all of us. For one of you it might be someone who’s phone call you dread, for another you duck and run from him at a party, maybe he’s the creepy guy who leers at you every time you see him or the guy that when he talks he stands a little too close for comfort. You know… “that guy”. For me it’s a friend of a friend, an acquaintance that’s grown into a strange friendship. One I’ve learned to love and even tolerate.
“Colonel Dan” is an interesting character to say the least, but for this story what you need to know is that he’s not too savvy when it comes to the world of computers. He’s got a few items he wants to sell on Craig’s List and doesn’t have a clue how to do that. That’s where I come in. I volunteer my services knowing it will take mere minutes and don’t give it a second thought. Colonel Dan tells me that when the items sell, he will take me to dinner for my troubles. I just nod and uh-huh him, never intending to hold him to this. After all what I’m doing is not really all that hard.
Well to my chagrin he holds me to it. Pushy about it even. After several times of me cancelling and rescheduling I finally cave and agree to meet for dinner. Friday night, 6:30. At 6:45 I get a phone call from him asking for the directions. I tell him he’s right around the corner and give him what he need to get the rest of the way there. At 7 he shows up at the restaurant cussing, telling me he missed the entrance, TWICE and how the parking lot is too small for his truck. This has certainly started well. He then he asks me why I’m not at the bar. I tell him I’m waiting for him. Colonel Dan then tells me he wouldn’t have waited for me and heads in that direction. As soon as he gets there he asks me where the restroom is and tells me to order him a beer and a shot.
We eventually get to our table and the waitress comes over to take our order. He gets stuck on salad. He wants “you know, that dressing, not French” After a long list of flavors apparently he wanted Ranch. It is at this point I realize that he’s thrown back a few prior to his arrival and I know the evening is only going to get more interesting.
I continue with dinner by trying to make conversation and I ask him if he’s doing anything exciting this weekend. “Yeah, I’m going to Georgia” Awesome I say, for what? “Piece of ass” I should have known better. I guess this sparks the charm and wit center in his brain because he then proceeds to tell me that if I lose 100 pounds” things might start hap-nin” and if I lose 200 he’ll marry me. Wow, how can I resist? I let him know that the last person who said that to me was my EX- boyfriend and I told him to go fuck himself. He just laughs it off and continues talking and attempting to chew with his mouth open, all the while food is falling onto his shirt. Awesome.
After the minutes seem to drag on, the dinner finally ends. He decides to use the restroom before he leaves where he passes by the waitress squatting down at another table taking their order. At this point he feels it appropriate to pat her on the head. She looks horrified. Thankfully he moves on quickly.
When we get to the door to leave I thank him for a “lovely evening” and try to make a dash for it. He is conveniently parked next to me, so we leave together. I have never been so glad to see my piece of crap car. I attempt to half hug him when he grabs me for a big bear hug where I find myself up close and personal with the morsels that fell from his mouth onto his shirt at dinner. I manage to un-wedge myself from his grip and go on my merry way. Finally.
I wouldn’t say it’s the most horrible dinner I’ve ever been to but it’s certainly not one I ever plan on repeating. I think in the future I’ll make sure that our mutual friends are around to serve as a buffer for me and the useless nut we affectionately call Colonel Dan.
“Colonel Dan” is an interesting character to say the least, but for this story what you need to know is that he’s not too savvy when it comes to the world of computers. He’s got a few items he wants to sell on Craig’s List and doesn’t have a clue how to do that. That’s where I come in. I volunteer my services knowing it will take mere minutes and don’t give it a second thought. Colonel Dan tells me that when the items sell, he will take me to dinner for my troubles. I just nod and uh-huh him, never intending to hold him to this. After all what I’m doing is not really all that hard.
Well to my chagrin he holds me to it. Pushy about it even. After several times of me cancelling and rescheduling I finally cave and agree to meet for dinner. Friday night, 6:30. At 6:45 I get a phone call from him asking for the directions. I tell him he’s right around the corner and give him what he need to get the rest of the way there. At 7 he shows up at the restaurant cussing, telling me he missed the entrance, TWICE and how the parking lot is too small for his truck. This has certainly started well. He then he asks me why I’m not at the bar. I tell him I’m waiting for him. Colonel Dan then tells me he wouldn’t have waited for me and heads in that direction. As soon as he gets there he asks me where the restroom is and tells me to order him a beer and a shot.
We eventually get to our table and the waitress comes over to take our order. He gets stuck on salad. He wants “you know, that dressing, not French” After a long list of flavors apparently he wanted Ranch. It is at this point I realize that he’s thrown back a few prior to his arrival and I know the evening is only going to get more interesting.
I continue with dinner by trying to make conversation and I ask him if he’s doing anything exciting this weekend. “Yeah, I’m going to Georgia” Awesome I say, for what? “Piece of ass” I should have known better. I guess this sparks the charm and wit center in his brain because he then proceeds to tell me that if I lose 100 pounds” things might start hap-nin” and if I lose 200 he’ll marry me. Wow, how can I resist? I let him know that the last person who said that to me was my EX- boyfriend and I told him to go fuck himself. He just laughs it off and continues talking and attempting to chew with his mouth open, all the while food is falling onto his shirt. Awesome.
After the minutes seem to drag on, the dinner finally ends. He decides to use the restroom before he leaves where he passes by the waitress squatting down at another table taking their order. At this point he feels it appropriate to pat her on the head. She looks horrified. Thankfully he moves on quickly.
When we get to the door to leave I thank him for a “lovely evening” and try to make a dash for it. He is conveniently parked next to me, so we leave together. I have never been so glad to see my piece of crap car. I attempt to half hug him when he grabs me for a big bear hug where I find myself up close and personal with the morsels that fell from his mouth onto his shirt at dinner. I manage to un-wedge myself from his grip and go on my merry way. Finally.
I wouldn’t say it’s the most horrible dinner I’ve ever been to but it’s certainly not one I ever plan on repeating. I think in the future I’ll make sure that our mutual friends are around to serve as a buffer for me and the useless nut we affectionately call Colonel Dan.
Thursday, February 16, 2012
Friends and Low Places
Every once in a while, with the TV on in the background I hear the iconic theme song to “Cheers” and it brings a smile to my face. Not because it reminds me about the show necessarily but it makes me think of the bond that I have with my friends. There is just something comforting about a group of close friends that know everything about you and still like you anyway.
That being said, I’m fortunate enough to have a small group of friends that love me just for being me. I consider their homes my home away from home and know that I’m welcome at all times. So when one of my friends tells me that there is going to be a party at their house. I know not only am I going to go but I am going to have a damn good time.
This particular party was New Year’s Eve. I don’t generally consider myself to be a particularly superstitious person but I do feel like that what you are doing on New Year’s Eve/Day can sort of set the tone for the rest of the year so I make sure I’m always surrounded by friends and/or family on those days. And of course since it’s one of the days the whole world celebrates the surrounding cast of characters did not fail to make an appearance.
One of them being my ex boyfriend “Bryce”. No biggie, we’re on speaking terms. As a matter of fact he’s been crying to a mutual friend of ours about how he really wants to get back together, and he knows that the breakup was all his fault and he’s so lonely without me, blah, blah, blah…
He sits down next to me and strikes up a conversation. I’m pleasant, after all I’m drinking. (Hey! It’s New Years Eve!) He then starts in on me that I never call him. To which I remind him he’s told me that he doesn’t like to talk on the phone so why would I call him, and besides you don’t call me either. This leads into him telling me that’s probably because he’s not really ready for a relationship.
This sends me into a TIZZY! Not because I’m irritated that he doesn’t want to get back together. Really I don’t care either way. What pisses me off is that this wishy washy son of a bitch is going to ear fuck my friend about the history of our relationship and where it went wrong and then pulls THIS crap. Besides your 49 fucking years old! If you’re not ready for a relationship now what the HELL are you waiting for?
I immediately head into the house and have a shot. And then another. And maybe even one more and quickly forget about the whole situation. At some point Bryce leaves and his stupidity is brought up in a conversation by someone who is still at the party. This causes my aggravation to once again rear its ugly head and I declare to everyone that I’m going to go punch him in the balls.
That’s when the night goes black……
I wake up the next morning with a roaring hangover, horrible cottonmouth and praying for death to find me quickly. I roll over in bed and immediately hit my head on something. What the fuck? As I open my eyes to see what I just hit my pounding head on I see Bryce with a stupid grin on his face. I’m guessing by the smile I didn’t hit him in the balls. At least not with my fist.
I quickly put on my shoes and head for the door. He jumps up and follows me and starts saying something about coffee. I tell him that I have to go check on my dog and get the hell out of there.
Later that day my phone rings off the hook, my friends calling to ask me what happened once I left the party. I tell them quite honestly I have no earthy idea. They’ll have to get the rest of THAT story from Bryce himself.
That being said, I’m fortunate enough to have a small group of friends that love me just for being me. I consider their homes my home away from home and know that I’m welcome at all times. So when one of my friends tells me that there is going to be a party at their house. I know not only am I going to go but I am going to have a damn good time.
This particular party was New Year’s Eve. I don’t generally consider myself to be a particularly superstitious person but I do feel like that what you are doing on New Year’s Eve/Day can sort of set the tone for the rest of the year so I make sure I’m always surrounded by friends and/or family on those days. And of course since it’s one of the days the whole world celebrates the surrounding cast of characters did not fail to make an appearance.
One of them being my ex boyfriend “Bryce”. No biggie, we’re on speaking terms. As a matter of fact he’s been crying to a mutual friend of ours about how he really wants to get back together, and he knows that the breakup was all his fault and he’s so lonely without me, blah, blah, blah…
He sits down next to me and strikes up a conversation. I’m pleasant, after all I’m drinking. (Hey! It’s New Years Eve!) He then starts in on me that I never call him. To which I remind him he’s told me that he doesn’t like to talk on the phone so why would I call him, and besides you don’t call me either. This leads into him telling me that’s probably because he’s not really ready for a relationship.
This sends me into a TIZZY! Not because I’m irritated that he doesn’t want to get back together. Really I don’t care either way. What pisses me off is that this wishy washy son of a bitch is going to ear fuck my friend about the history of our relationship and where it went wrong and then pulls THIS crap. Besides your 49 fucking years old! If you’re not ready for a relationship now what the HELL are you waiting for?
I immediately head into the house and have a shot. And then another. And maybe even one more and quickly forget about the whole situation. At some point Bryce leaves and his stupidity is brought up in a conversation by someone who is still at the party. This causes my aggravation to once again rear its ugly head and I declare to everyone that I’m going to go punch him in the balls.
That’s when the night goes black……
I wake up the next morning with a roaring hangover, horrible cottonmouth and praying for death to find me quickly. I roll over in bed and immediately hit my head on something. What the fuck? As I open my eyes to see what I just hit my pounding head on I see Bryce with a stupid grin on his face. I’m guessing by the smile I didn’t hit him in the balls. At least not with my fist.
I quickly put on my shoes and head for the door. He jumps up and follows me and starts saying something about coffee. I tell him that I have to go check on my dog and get the hell out of there.
Later that day my phone rings off the hook, my friends calling to ask me what happened once I left the party. I tell them quite honestly I have no earthy idea. They’ll have to get the rest of THAT story from Bryce himself.
Thursday, February 9, 2012
Smoke and Mirrors
I know I can be rough around the edges. I know I can be a tough person to deal with sometimes. I know that I’ve built up quite a reputation, but I also consider myself a fairly rational person. I guess that part doesn’t come out nearly as often as I think it does. This apparently leads people to tell me things that they think I want to hear. My motto is I don’t do things to people that I don’t want them to do to me so I tend to play it straight forward. I guess that is my blessing and my curse.
Once again I get a “smile” from someone from the BBW site that I’m a member of. I’m excited because I’ve had my eye on “Beau” for a little while but since I’m not a paid member of the site I was never able to contact him directly. I had seriously been considering getting a membership just to be able to talk to this guy and much to my surprise he is now sending ME an email! His pictures are great, his story is right up my alley and he actually seems like a pretty decent guy. Have I finally hit the jackpot?
We arrange to meet at a local restaurant even though he’s from about an hour away and see how that plays out and go from there. I’m impressed already. He’s willing to drive to me, that in my book is a big deal. We meet for a simple dinner and start to get to know each other. He starts off by talking about all of the women he’s dated and what was the matter with all of them. Wait a friggin minute! That’s my line! I’m the funny one with a blog. You’re cramping my style dude! I sit through the endless list of things that have been wrong with his dates worrying that each time he starts another story that the exact thing he didn’t like about that date is going to describe me to a tee. So I sit, and listen. Almost speechless, this really isn’t like me at all.
Suddenly he gets a phone call and excuses himself. At least he’s not rude enough to sit there and talk in front of me like I don’t exist. We finish our meal continue to talk when his phone rings again. It’s his daughter, his grandson isn’t feeling well and she’s taking him to the emergency room and she needs him home right away. Ahhhhh, here it is. The classic blow off. It’s Friday night and I’m going to be home by 8PM. Oh well, at least I got a free meal out of the deal and didn’t have to sit at home for the evening. I thank him for a nice time, tell him I hope his grandson is OK and we part ways.
So I think we’re done. Nope. He texts me non-stop the rest of the evening telling me that he was having a hard time concentrating at dinner because I was so beautiful. That he was undressing me with his eyes the whole night and that he hopes that he can make his sudden departure up to me the next day and take me out again.
HUH? So that wasn’t a blow off? Wait, now I’m confused.
I didn’t really feel any sparks but I thought maybe that was because I was so freaked out that he would be turned off by one thing or another about me since his damn list was so long. So I decided to give it another try and agree to meet him the next evening. He told me that he would call when he knew his work schedule so we could make plans for the night.
Wouldn’t you know, I’m still waiting for that call. Guess it was a blow off after all. So why the big theatrics and the apologies and the texting me all night long? Why not just quit while you’re ahead? Why did he feel the need to blow smoke up my ass when my ass was perfectly fine without it? Guess that’s a question that will never be answered.
Once again I get a “smile” from someone from the BBW site that I’m a member of. I’m excited because I’ve had my eye on “Beau” for a little while but since I’m not a paid member of the site I was never able to contact him directly. I had seriously been considering getting a membership just to be able to talk to this guy and much to my surprise he is now sending ME an email! His pictures are great, his story is right up my alley and he actually seems like a pretty decent guy. Have I finally hit the jackpot?
We arrange to meet at a local restaurant even though he’s from about an hour away and see how that plays out and go from there. I’m impressed already. He’s willing to drive to me, that in my book is a big deal. We meet for a simple dinner and start to get to know each other. He starts off by talking about all of the women he’s dated and what was the matter with all of them. Wait a friggin minute! That’s my line! I’m the funny one with a blog. You’re cramping my style dude! I sit through the endless list of things that have been wrong with his dates worrying that each time he starts another story that the exact thing he didn’t like about that date is going to describe me to a tee. So I sit, and listen. Almost speechless, this really isn’t like me at all.
Suddenly he gets a phone call and excuses himself. At least he’s not rude enough to sit there and talk in front of me like I don’t exist. We finish our meal continue to talk when his phone rings again. It’s his daughter, his grandson isn’t feeling well and she’s taking him to the emergency room and she needs him home right away. Ahhhhh, here it is. The classic blow off. It’s Friday night and I’m going to be home by 8PM. Oh well, at least I got a free meal out of the deal and didn’t have to sit at home for the evening. I thank him for a nice time, tell him I hope his grandson is OK and we part ways.
So I think we’re done. Nope. He texts me non-stop the rest of the evening telling me that he was having a hard time concentrating at dinner because I was so beautiful. That he was undressing me with his eyes the whole night and that he hopes that he can make his sudden departure up to me the next day and take me out again.
HUH? So that wasn’t a blow off? Wait, now I’m confused.
I didn’t really feel any sparks but I thought maybe that was because I was so freaked out that he would be turned off by one thing or another about me since his damn list was so long. So I decided to give it another try and agree to meet him the next evening. He told me that he would call when he knew his work schedule so we could make plans for the night.
Wouldn’t you know, I’m still waiting for that call. Guess it was a blow off after all. So why the big theatrics and the apologies and the texting me all night long? Why not just quit while you’re ahead? Why did he feel the need to blow smoke up my ass when my ass was perfectly fine without it? Guess that’s a question that will never be answered.
Thursday, February 2, 2012
Dud-Muffin
I felt the twitch. The itch. The discomfort. No, it’s NOT an STD. I think I feel the end of my man-cation coming on. It was a lovely summer of not caring. Not subjecting my self to the perils of dating. Not torturing myself with the mental preparation of learning about a new person only to find out he’s a douche bag. But when I wake up in the morning and I realize that the warm body lying next to me in the bed is my dog, I feel the loneliness and I know that I don’t want to stay that way forever.
The problem is the first piece of advice that I get from everyone is to stop looking and it will happen! Honestly it makes me kind of nervous. I’ve been single so long now I don’t know how to not look. It’s like asking a tigress to not chase the gazelle, like asking the black widow spider to ignore the fly in its web, like asking me to not feel & grope in a dark room full of hot rednecks. It’s just un-natural.
All that put aside, I did put my profile back on one dating website. One that is specifically for BBW’s (Big Beautiful Women for those of you who aren’t aware) but promised myself that I wouldn’t pursue anyone just let them come to me. And come they do. From everywhere! I mean I’m not bragging, I’m sure any woman that posts her profile on a website catered to people that like her specific kind of body type, hobby, religion, interests, etc… would have men flocking to her too. I just think it’s crazy when I get “smiles” from Canada, Russia and Greece. I mean, I’m sure you’re lovely but I’m looking for a date not a pen pal.
So I’m excited when I get an email from someone fairly local, we set up a date and meet. He calls me to tell me he’s running late so I tell him I’ll wait in a bar that I know of until he gets there. After all it’s a first date and I’m nervous. Nothing like a shot of courage to cool the nerves.
He finally shows and he decides start the conversation by telling me he’s from a long line of alcoholics and he doesn’t drink. So now I feel like an ass. Way to put my best foot forward! So I try to change the subject. Find something that he does like so I can get him talking and get to know him better. The problem is that every time I ask him a question I hit a roadblock.
Smoke? No. Kids? No. Ever been married? No. Tattoos? No. Drugs? No. Pets? No. Roommates? No. Brothers or Sisters? No. Ever broke a bone? No. Surgeries? No. Jeez! I’m batting a thousand here! Play any instruments? “I played the Tuba in High School” I wasn’t touching that one…. What do you do for work? “I sell insurance” Seriously? OMG! I have just met the most boring man in the world! How did we even get to the point where we set up a date without me falling asleep? Clearly this was not going to work out.
So after a few more attempts on my part to talk about ANYTHING don’t work I decide to call it quits. He at least is a gentleman and asks if he can walk me to my car. I’m all for chivalry so I accept. He gets to my car and moves towards me like he is going to give me a hug. He’s much taller than me so I try to adjust myself to make it the least awkward as possible. Except he takes his arms, throws them over my shoulders and grabs onto my ass and just stands there. Doesn’t say a damn word. Doesn’t attempt to move around, offer an explanation, nada. Just friggin stands there. W-E-I-R-D!!! After what seems like an eternity in my brain trying to figure out what in the HELL is going on I somehow pry myself from out from under him and say goodnight.
I never did hear from him again. Which is good because he was SO boring that I can’t remember his damn name anyway. I might not want to be alone for the rest of my life but I certainly don’t want to hang out with somebody whose idea of a good time is watching paint dry.
The problem is the first piece of advice that I get from everyone is to stop looking and it will happen! Honestly it makes me kind of nervous. I’ve been single so long now I don’t know how to not look. It’s like asking a tigress to not chase the gazelle, like asking the black widow spider to ignore the fly in its web, like asking me to not feel & grope in a dark room full of hot rednecks. It’s just un-natural.
All that put aside, I did put my profile back on one dating website. One that is specifically for BBW’s (Big Beautiful Women for those of you who aren’t aware) but promised myself that I wouldn’t pursue anyone just let them come to me. And come they do. From everywhere! I mean I’m not bragging, I’m sure any woman that posts her profile on a website catered to people that like her specific kind of body type, hobby, religion, interests, etc… would have men flocking to her too. I just think it’s crazy when I get “smiles” from Canada, Russia and Greece. I mean, I’m sure you’re lovely but I’m looking for a date not a pen pal.
So I’m excited when I get an email from someone fairly local, we set up a date and meet. He calls me to tell me he’s running late so I tell him I’ll wait in a bar that I know of until he gets there. After all it’s a first date and I’m nervous. Nothing like a shot of courage to cool the nerves.
He finally shows and he decides start the conversation by telling me he’s from a long line of alcoholics and he doesn’t drink. So now I feel like an ass. Way to put my best foot forward! So I try to change the subject. Find something that he does like so I can get him talking and get to know him better. The problem is that every time I ask him a question I hit a roadblock.
Smoke? No. Kids? No. Ever been married? No. Tattoos? No. Drugs? No. Pets? No. Roommates? No. Brothers or Sisters? No. Ever broke a bone? No. Surgeries? No. Jeez! I’m batting a thousand here! Play any instruments? “I played the Tuba in High School” I wasn’t touching that one…. What do you do for work? “I sell insurance” Seriously? OMG! I have just met the most boring man in the world! How did we even get to the point where we set up a date without me falling asleep? Clearly this was not going to work out.
So after a few more attempts on my part to talk about ANYTHING don’t work I decide to call it quits. He at least is a gentleman and asks if he can walk me to my car. I’m all for chivalry so I accept. He gets to my car and moves towards me like he is going to give me a hug. He’s much taller than me so I try to adjust myself to make it the least awkward as possible. Except he takes his arms, throws them over my shoulders and grabs onto my ass and just stands there. Doesn’t say a damn word. Doesn’t attempt to move around, offer an explanation, nada. Just friggin stands there. W-E-I-R-D!!! After what seems like an eternity in my brain trying to figure out what in the HELL is going on I somehow pry myself from out from under him and say goodnight.
I never did hear from him again. Which is good because he was SO boring that I can’t remember his damn name anyway. I might not want to be alone for the rest of my life but I certainly don’t want to hang out with somebody whose idea of a good time is watching paint dry.
Thursday, January 26, 2012
New Year, Knew You
First blog of the year. I’m feeling the pressure. Especially since this blog was supposed to be posted weeks ago but computer issues….. well I don’t want to whine. I’ve got all year to do that! So I thought instead of writing my usual blog about my dates, men and the craziness that ensues when those two worlds collide, I would stop to pay respect to those who have certainly earned it and maybe give a hint of things to come.
For those reading this who don’t know me personally, I have a tendency to rub some people the wrong way. To the outside world I can appear loud, obnoxious, insulting and yes, even offensive, and at times all of these things can be true. So, when I find people to surround myself with that not only overlook all the bad in me, but they let me be who I am, lovingly remind me when I’ve gone too far outside of the lines and even enjoy the company I provide… Well those people need some props!
So first of all thank you to my ever loving and adoring friends Blaine, Jennifer, Mykee and Wendy and the surrounding cast of characters they constantly provide. Without them I would have never been encouraged to write this blog. I appreciate you listening to my whining, my horrible attempts to perfect the punch lines, the times when I’ve come to you to help me think up a catchy title, being patient through the long dry spell of my “Man-Cation” where there wasn’t a blog to be found. Let’s also not forget the long talks with a beer or two in hand, the shoulders to cry on, the laughing until we cried, the always available warm hugs and even the forgiveness when I’ve crossed a line. You are my strength.
To my co-worker Katie, thank you for finding the same people annoying as I do, for your “does this smile look real” that makes me laugh every time, and for looking forward to our “Chemistry Breaks. “ She not only gets me through my day but for the most part is the only reason I haven’t taken a swan dive off the roof of the building we work in or purchased a large semi-automatic weapon.
To my beautiful daughters that have stood by me while I’ve created this crazy world for us, thank you for not killing me in my sleep. I know it’s been tempting. I know I’m not a great mom so thank you for being great kids despite me. Please take my life as an example of who not to be and set the world on fire with your smarts, your charm and the great personalities that God has blessed you with.
And last but not least thank you, the reader, without you, all of these words on the page would be useless and perhaps even silly.
With that being said, as this New Year unfolds, I look forward to bringing you more adventures, more bad dates (not that I’m looking for them, they just seem to happen) maybe a perspective or two on the world through my eyes and lots and lots more laughter! Thank you for reading, sharing this blog with your family and friends, and here at long last, is a preview of what lies ahead for next week:
(I’m still working on the title, I promise you, that is the HARDEST part!)
I felt the twitch. The itch. The discomfort. No, it’s NOT an STD. I think I feel the end of my man-cation coming on. It was a lovely summer of not caring. Not subjecting my self to the perils of dating. Not torturing myself with the mental preparation of learning about a new person only to find out he’s a douche bag. But when I wake up in the morning and I realize that the warm body lying next to me in the bed is my dog, I feel the loneliness and I know that I don’t want to stay that way forever.
For those reading this who don’t know me personally, I have a tendency to rub some people the wrong way. To the outside world I can appear loud, obnoxious, insulting and yes, even offensive, and at times all of these things can be true. So, when I find people to surround myself with that not only overlook all the bad in me, but they let me be who I am, lovingly remind me when I’ve gone too far outside of the lines and even enjoy the company I provide… Well those people need some props!
So first of all thank you to my ever loving and adoring friends Blaine, Jennifer, Mykee and Wendy and the surrounding cast of characters they constantly provide. Without them I would have never been encouraged to write this blog. I appreciate you listening to my whining, my horrible attempts to perfect the punch lines, the times when I’ve come to you to help me think up a catchy title, being patient through the long dry spell of my “Man-Cation” where there wasn’t a blog to be found. Let’s also not forget the long talks with a beer or two in hand, the shoulders to cry on, the laughing until we cried, the always available warm hugs and even the forgiveness when I’ve crossed a line. You are my strength.
To my co-worker Katie, thank you for finding the same people annoying as I do, for your “does this smile look real” that makes me laugh every time, and for looking forward to our “Chemistry Breaks. “ She not only gets me through my day but for the most part is the only reason I haven’t taken a swan dive off the roof of the building we work in or purchased a large semi-automatic weapon.
To my beautiful daughters that have stood by me while I’ve created this crazy world for us, thank you for not killing me in my sleep. I know it’s been tempting. I know I’m not a great mom so thank you for being great kids despite me. Please take my life as an example of who not to be and set the world on fire with your smarts, your charm and the great personalities that God has blessed you with.
And last but not least thank you, the reader, without you, all of these words on the page would be useless and perhaps even silly.
With that being said, as this New Year unfolds, I look forward to bringing you more adventures, more bad dates (not that I’m looking for them, they just seem to happen) maybe a perspective or two on the world through my eyes and lots and lots more laughter! Thank you for reading, sharing this blog with your family and friends, and here at long last, is a preview of what lies ahead for next week:
(I’m still working on the title, I promise you, that is the HARDEST part!)
I felt the twitch. The itch. The discomfort. No, it’s NOT an STD. I think I feel the end of my man-cation coming on. It was a lovely summer of not caring. Not subjecting my self to the perils of dating. Not torturing myself with the mental preparation of learning about a new person only to find out he’s a douche bag. But when I wake up in the morning and I realize that the warm body lying next to me in the bed is my dog, I feel the loneliness and I know that I don’t want to stay that way forever.
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