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Yeah…I’m here.

14 Feb

I think I probably do a “yeah, I’m here” blog every Valentine’s Day…but this time…I’m here, but not really.

Over the last couple of weeks, I’ve been told I’ve been doing the dating thing all wrong and now I’m finally starting to see that it is true.

My friends are intervening in my dating life and this time…I’m letting them do it. I need help. That…and apparently, I pick weirdos…so no more of that.

Maybe I’ll blog about my experiences…maybe not. Just wanted to give you all an update that I’m here…but living in the moment this time.

Happy Valentine’s Day 2014!

Update

20 Jun

So…I broke up with the “Don’t Know What to Do” guy. Instead of calling him The Last Guy, I think I’m going to have to rename him Failure To Launch. That’s a whole other story for another day.

Another guy has asked me out recently and his name is “John.”

I have had all the bad luck I can possibly have with “John’s,” so I’m wondering if I should even attempt to go.

(Look for The Crapper and The Chemist stories soon!) Those idiot douchebags are “John’s,” too.

Sigh.

I’ll probably say “yes,” to this guy and only due to the fact that his baby blues are mesmerizing. He did say that I wouldn’t regret our date. Damnit!

I’ll let you know about it, soon.

The Racist

3 Jun

The Racist…

Brandon and I met at a party and he was this tall, good lookin’, blonde-haired, blue-eyed charmer. He was former Navy and a liberal.

Now there’s a combination you don’t see often: military and liberal.

Brandon was sweet. We had our first date at a pub in downtown Denton and bonded over fish and chips, mussels, oysters and sweet kisses, when no one was looking.

We had politics, religion, food, life views and everything else under the sun in common. We’d talk for hours on the phone and on our dates, and when we’d part ways, he’d text me that he couldn’t wait to talk to me until next time.

Another interesting combination: a man that likes to talk and listen.

His unfortunate racist tendencies reared its ugly head on our fifth date. We were hanging out on his living room floor, with my head in his lap and watching old black and white movies, when he asked me the question that made me sit upright, argue, tear up and walk out of his house.
I noticed a hint of weirdness on our fourth date, but didn’t think anything of it and continued on with our day. He had come over to my house in McKinney as we had planned to explore the city and countryside. I was giving him the grande tour of my house, when he stopped to look at a picture on the wall of my second floor.

Him: “Who is that guy?”
Me: “What guy?”
Him: “The black guy you’ve got your arm around.”
Me: “Oh, that’s my friend D. He’s married to one of my close friends.”
Him: “Did y’all date?”
Me: “No! He’s like my brother. We’re just really good friends.”
Him: “Oh! Cool. Well, let’s go make our lunch.”

To be honest, I thought his questioning felt weird. But, his actions didn’t seem any different. He was still as attentive, PDAish and sweet, as he had always been.

We hung out the entire day, shared sweet kisses and hugs and made plans to see each other again in two days. Our fifth date.

As he brushed his fingers through my hair that day, also bending over to kiss the tip of my nose, my cheek, and my ears–our next dating encounter sent me chills. In the back of my mind, I was thinking, “I could get used to this.”

And then he asked me the last question that he’d ever ask me again.

“Have you ever been with a black guy?”

I immediately sat up and turned around to face him. I could feel my anger level rising just by looking at his face. He had this mean look of disgust, this look of “get off me,” if I dared say yes.

And, I did.

“Yes. I’ve been with a black guy,” I said.

I’m what my good friend Beverly, likes to call an ‘equal opportunity dater.’

He looked at me like I had the plague and pushed himself back from me. “I don’t think I can date you,” he said.

I’ll never forget that moment. A big tear welled up in my right eye and plunged down my cheek. My lips pouted and I felt completely blind-sided and sad. “Why not? What does me being with a black guy in my past, have anything to do with you and me, right now,” I asked him.

“Everything,” he said. “Black men don’t treat white women with the respect they deserve and it makes me sick that you’ve stooped that low and dated someone of color.”

Of color.

Who uses that terminology anymore? Seriously?

Where did he learn that? Who taught him to be like that?”

I picked up my things and told him I felt sorry for him and left.

Unfortunately, this is not the first racist encounter I’ve had in my lifetime. Unfortunately, there’s still stupid people out there…

Have you ever had a racist encounter when dating? Tell me about it.

Like A Boss

2 Jun

Ever heard the skit/song from The Lonely Island, “Like a Boss?”

No? Then listen to it here.

The reason why you should listen to the video before reading this blog, is because, well…I dated ‘that’ guy. The guy who constantly tells you he’s a boss.

This particular date was back when I lived in Dallas. I had met this guy online and under his profession, when most people tell you what their title is, he had just put “management.”

I could have cared less whether he was at the bottom of the totem pole or really, in management. We had a lot in common and we liked the same activities. He seemed like he would be fun to hang out with.

When we first started talking on the phone, I once asked him what he did and he totally replied with, “I’m a boss.” That. Was. The. Statement. Out. Of. His. Mouth. Every. Conversation. Every. Word.

Yet I still decided to go out with him. What the fuck was I thinking? Totally my fucking bad…

Anyhoo…we decided on a few bowling matches at Main Event one night and when we actually sat down to talk (after I of course, beat him [COLLEGE BOWLING LEAGUE, WHAT, WHAT]), I finally figured out what “boss” meant.

Me: “So, what company do you work for?”
Him: “I work at Tom Thumb/Randall’s. I’m a boss.”
Me: “Cool! What area?”
Him: “Well I work at the district main office location in Dallas.”
Me: “I didn’t know Tom Thumb had a main office in Dallas. Interesting.”
Him: “Well, I actually work at the grocery store, but Dallas’ top store.”
Me: “Cool. Well, what department are you in?”
Him: “I’m in the deli area. And, I’m a supervisor.”
Me: “How long have you been there?”
Him: “I’ve been a boss for three years.”
Me: “Did you start there after college?”
Him: “I’m technically still in school. I’m actually in training for the lead supervisory position. I’ve been working there for three years.”
Me: [slightly confused that his answers have changed] “Oh. Well, what do you do day to day?”
Him: “I slice the meat, make sure customers are happy, figure out what deals to honor, I only supervise one person in the department now, but if I finish school and this training program, I’ll get to be the boss for this store, in this department.”

RULES
1) Never go bowling on a date. Unless you’re with other people. It was hard to talk in between games.
2) If you work, be proud that you have a job. I, at the time of the date, was unemployed. Oh, the joys of freelancing after being laid off. Again, if you work, be proud that you have a job. If you are a boss, great! If you slice deli meat, then fucking own up to it. Don’t lie and say that you’re in management when you slice ham for a living. I had a bunch of crap jobs to get where I am today. We all do. Own up to it!
3) I don’t want it to seem like I was badgering him the entire time, asking him about what he did; we also talked about me and what I did/used to do/what I was looking for. If he really worked at a corporate location, I wanted to know about opportunities, too.

The reason it didn’t work out? A woman’s intuition is serious. I have become FUCKING AWESOME at being able to tell when someone is lying to me. And once you do…like a sneaky friend…I will continue to be your friend (at a distance), let you talk, let you lie, whatever…but I will ultimately lose respect for you deep down and I won’t trust you. I won’t trust a word out of your mouth.

I would have respected him more, if he had just owned up to his job. If you’re embarrassed by what you do, change it. If you don’t like what you’re doing. Change it. Change jobs. I disliked the fact that he was willing to let some 10-letter word (management) change his story.

Liars suck!

Comfort Zone? What’s That?

18 Apr

Whoa! It’s been awhile since I last wrote. There are no awesome excuses as to why I haven’t written. I just didn’t want to. Plain and simple. I took a break from dating, so I took a break from my blog.

But, I’m back. And, with news.

No, I’m not getting married.

Actually, I’m stepping out of my comfort zone today and going on a date with a guy I’ve been talking to online for about a week.

Just a couple of months ago, I revisited OKCupid after deleting my profile some 9 months ago. I got back on because I was bored. I immediately went on some crazy dates (of course), but also met a really kick ass guy–with whom I’ve become really good friends with and now, Andrew.

Why is this out of my comfort zone, you ask? Well, because he’s 5’9″ and I don’t usually date guys shorter than 5’11”.

I’m a little freaked out by it…but even if we didn’t hit it off romantically, he might have tall friends and he’s got a fuckin’ awesome personality. And, that would be awful if we didn’t at least explore the idea of friendship.

So, I will let you all know how it goes.

Wish me luck!

P.S. Stacy…this is for you.

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