Tag Archives: Facebook

Best. Break-up Letter. Ever.

6 Jun

Creative Break-up LetterI recently saw an article in Yahoo! Shine and had to repost it and ask the question:

“What is the worst break-up letter you’ve ever received and/or sent?”

This particular letter is from a woman who writes to her boyfriend and tells him how to find his personal belongings after finding a message from another girl, on his Facebook page.

Whoops!

Personally, I’ve sent letters to my exes that would make mothers wonder if they were raising their sons right, but never anything like this. When my ex (in 2008), stole my heart and beat the living crap out of it…I did sell his stuff on Craigslist. And, I did drop off a letter to his mother. She was the best way I could reach him, I promise.

Tell me, what’s the worst break-up letter you’ve received OR, the best break-up letter you’ve sent?

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I got married!

7 Jan

Kidding.

Don’t worry (guys-out-there-who-are interested-in-my-awesomeness), I didn’t get married. But some guy apparently thinks we did. ;o)

Look at what I found in my POF inbox this morning. I’m not sure how the hell to respond. What do you think?

“After a rigorously brief overview of your profile, I wanted to let you know I have already married and divorced you in my mind.

Thanks for all the wonderful imaginary memories… you will always have a special place in my heart.

your ex-hubby,

Abacus41

PS

You can keep the beach house in Florida as long as I can have the dog and my DVD’s back.”

Um yeah. I’m not sure how to take this. Did he just give me a compliment? Did he just tell me I’m the scum of the earth? Comments anyone?

Like me on facebook! You know you want to! : )

Can you see me now?

26 Mar

So before I even start my newest dating-related story, I’d like to update those every-day readers who have been asking about Mr. NiceGuy. While I enjoyed a spectacular month or so…spending time with him, cheering at a Stars game, having dinner, seeing movies, beating him at air hockey, him beating me at laser tag, etc…he has unfortunately fled the building. Well not a building per say…but Texas…and not because I was a bad kisser or anything (I was great…like super great ;))…but because his job situation and his living arrangements took him in another direction…and I mean a 700-mile difference. While he did say that he would look for jobs in Dallas…I know he’s not really coming back. So with this said, at least Cupid and his crew allowed him to be in my life so that I’d know that there are GREAT men out there, because I seriously had my doubts.

And now back to programming.

I have decided that I am so over men who don’t post pictures in their profiles like yesterday’s dinner. Omigod! How hard is it to take a few seconds to search through your computer files and find a decent picture of yourself? And what the hell do you have to hide?

So I was looking through dating profiles the other day (you know…since I have to actually get back out there and date again…ugh) and was going through my daily 5 matches…not to be confused with the other 12 Match already sends me every 3 to 4 days.

Anyways…I came across this guy’s profile and he didn’t have a picture, so I of course checked “no”. While his actual written profile sounded great, I have learned to never trust the no-picture or heavily-pixilated photo scheme. However, it turns out that ol’ dude had already found me and decided to email me. His message was a long-winded email thanking me for putting some effort into my profile and it stated that we had a lot of similarities as far as interests go. He also said that my pictures were pretty and that I had a gorgeous smile.

I’m a nice person. I mean I try to be a nice person as much as I can. So for this scenario, it meant writing the poor guy back and thanking him, but sending the whole…”I’m not talking to you until you put a picture up.” And I did just that. And what does he do? He writes me back… 

Dear My Name (What a pretty name by the way ;-]).
Thanks for sending me a message so quickly. I apologize for not having any pictures of myself. I just put this profile up and haven’t gotten around to it. Until I can get some pictures up, I’d really like to get to know you. You and I have a lot in common and I think we’d get along great. Take a chance on me, I promise I’m worth it.”

Uh…again. Where’s your picture? So I wrote him back.

Dear _ _ _ _ _,
I appreciate the compliments. While you do have an eloquently written profile, and while I do agree that we share a lot of common interests, I see no reason as to why I should continue our conversation when in the time it took you to write an email back to me, you could have uploaded several pictures of yourself. There are 10 pictures of myself on my profile and you even complimented me on them, yet you still have none. So again, I still see no reason to continue talking with you, especially if you’re going to come up with the excuse of “I haven’t gotten around to it.”
 

And so an email war breaks out and he writes me again. This time a little more hostile.

My Name,
I don’t really see what the big deal is about me not having a photo. See this is the problem with women today. You all don’t trust anyone from your past relationships and self-inflicted hold-ups when it comes to men. Personally I think you should get to know the person before you get the chance to see what they look like. I’m a nice guy. I have a job. I don’t have any kids. I’m attractive. I have ambition. And yet the nice guy always finishes last. If you want to meet and conversate with a real gentleman, then I suggest you give the no-photo rule a rest.

Really?

He didn’t even deserve a response back…but I had to ask him one question. 

_ _ _ _ _,
I will break my no-photo rule if you can answer one question with a “yes.” When you go out to the grocery store, a bar, a restaurant, the bookstore, a Mavs game, whatever…do you wear a bag over your head in public?

He never wrote me back. And I still haven’t broken my no-photo rule. 

I know I really sound like a bitch, but I promise I’m not. I have a really, really, REALLY good reason as to why I don’t talk to men who don’t have a decent photo or who have photos from 1945 or photos that you can’t tell if it’s him or a 12-year-old kid.

If any of you went to college during 1999 and 2003 you should be familiar with the Web site CollegeClub.com. It was the hottest social media site before “today’s social media” really even made its presence. You could converse with different people from your college or other universities and while it was similar to LinkedFaceItterSpace…you could only upload one picture and so much information about yourself.

And that’s where I met this guy who actually went to Sam. He was a Sig Ep and even knew some of my friends. His picture was ridiculous—I couldn’t even make out what race he was…but because my friends knew him and since they said he was “cool” I decided to meet up with him.

Our first date? A short pizza date (in between summer classes) on the patio of Humphrey’s—a little bar right across the university where I spent many drunken Thursday nights during my college years.

At the time of our date…it was a hot summer’s day in good ol’ humid Huntsville where if you sat outside too long, your skin would melt. Since we sat outside, sunglasses and all, it practically felt that way, but we had fun over drinks and the most delicious pizza ever! And the conversation wasn’t all that bad either.

He was a nice guy. When he walked me back to my class, we gave each other the nice-to-meet-you-we’ll-have-to-do-this-again hug and decided we’d go to dinner soon.

So fast forward to dinner. We had met at The Homestead—a swanky, fine-dining choice in Huntsvegas that I grew to love over the years. When we sat down and started looking over the menu and started talking, that’s when I noticed it.

The dude had a wandering eye. And I’m not talking about a *slap* take-your-eyes-off-her-ass wandering eye. I mean a googly, wandering eye.

As I sat looking at his face, I saw his right eyeball doing the chicken dance in his eye socket. I mean I literally remember not being able to concentrate and tried not to look at the dancing jig doing the riverdance in his right eye! It was horrible. And I think the horror showed in my face. I did my best to mask the astonishment, but I’m sure I failed…miserably.

I felt like while he was staring at me, someone else was too, especially with every move I made. It didn’t matter if I was nervously reaching over for the bread and butter or taking a sip from my tea glass…not only did his left eye follow me, but the right eye bounced up and down with excitement.

He never said a word (about his eye) in conversations over the phone or IM. But when he excused himself to the restroom towards the end of the night, I pieced together why he had worn sunglasses the first date, and why he asked me to meet him at a very, dimly-lit bar the next. Dinner I guess was the coming out party. And boy did it come out. It raced around saying “Yippee! Yippee! I’m so excited, I just can’t hide it!”

Okay…maybe his eye didn’t sing.

But ladies and gentlemen…what is one physical attribute that bugs the heck out of you and prompts you to stop cold in your tracks when dating?

People are attracted to all kinds of people…and people are picky about a number of things. I’ve met women who wouldn’t date a guy because of his hands, how short or tall he was, his annoying hyena laugh, and/or if he had a big honker…and…I’ve met guys who wouldn’t date a woman because she was too fat or had a hideous mole on the tip of her nose, etc. And smiles. I know most of us all like a decent smile. There’s nothing worse than a guy that has teeth coming out of every corner of his mouth. I’ve been there, done that. It was like an alligator-teeth horse-mouth-like smile. It was NOT pretty.

So tell me, what are you picky about?

 

Disclaimer: I am in no way perfect and in fact, I am one of the most quirkiest people I know. I believe that having confidence is key and although I am going through a crazy medical situation, I still find myself to be attractive and to look like my pictures.

when has desperate ever been a good look?

23 Sep

So I login to Facebook and of course one of my friends has the below video posted on her status. I listened to it and thought it would be perfect to post on here. I mean why not?

Long story short, apparently a young woman was out having drinks with friends in Toronto and was approached by a man who wouldn’t leave her alone. To get him to go away, she gave him her business card and said to call her.

Here’s how he responded. W-T-F?

So this video kind of reminds me of this date I once had with this guy by the name of Darien, even though he tried to convince me his name was Lestat Durant. Do I look stupid?

So I met him on TRUE.com…and what I now believe to be one of the most sluttiest online dating sites ever… I mean have you ever seen their ads with half-naked women and men? Like I want to find my next boyfriend on a site that portrays men in their boxers hanging out on their beds, with laptops in hand. Rightttt.

So anyways…the date took place back in 2004, when I had just moved to Dallas and clearly I was highly unfamiliar with placements of restaurants and bars. So what did he do? He offered to meet me at a central location so I could follow him there. I thought I was being mildly safe in the thought that I wouldn’t get into a car with him, not knowing where he might take me, so I met him at a gas station on 75 and Lemmon. Now that I think about it, the date was bad enough that riding in the car with him so he could possibly kill me, might have been more fun.

Not only was he 15 minutes late because of traffic on a weekend night, but he also had to fill up with gas, making me wait. Then, when it was time to get gas for HIS car, why did I not just leave him, when he asked me to get out and talk to him???? I must have been on crack.

So while he’s pumping gas, he starts telling me a little more about himself and this is what I find out: He was a graduate of SMU, was in a pretty-boy fraternity and lived in Bedford in this new condo where he kept his six cars. And as he stood there bragging about his two trucks…escalade something, his two SUVs, his regular sedan, his motorcycle, and Camaro…I wanted to blow myself away with a gun. If you’re going to buy six cars…why not buy an expensive one? Who cares about two GMCs, two Fords, probably a Honda and a Chevy. And don’t think I’m a Honda snob…but I grew up as a tomboy and I appreciate a sweet luxury car and can tell you what’s coming a mile away….like the sweet Bentley coupe that passed me the other day. I mean six regular cars??? Why not one, sweet lookin’ kreme BMW 745 li? or a beautiful, krimson Infiniti G35?

Too bad I went on the date anyways. But if I hadn’t, I wouldn’t be able to complete this even better story.

So ol’ dude and I get to the Reunion Tower inside of the Hyatt Hotel…you know that tall spacey looking building with the ball and lights on top. We decided to go there for drinks and appetizers and conversation. Too bad the conversation was all about HIM!!!! But that’s not even the start of the date. So when we arrive at “the ball”, there was no one up front seating guests, so we walked to a section of the restaurant and sat down. A few minutes later, this poor waitress came over and asked us if we could move to another section, stating that the current section wasn’t open. I was fine with it…I mean there was hardly anyone over there, it was poorly lit…but NO…ol’ dude demanded that we stayed there. This is how their conversation went.

waitress: “Hi, thanks for coming to _____ (i can never remember the name of the place). we are actually not serving in this section tonight and would prefer if you’d move to this section (pointing a few sections over) so we can serve you better.”
my date: “I want to be served over here and I see no problem that you should have.”
waitress: “Well, we’re not serving here tonight, so it would be great if I could get you guys to move, it’ll only take a second.”
I decide that I’m okay with moving, I mean clearly what’s the big deal? So I start to get up and his hand (making the stop sign) flys my way.

my date: “No, you will serve us here. Tell your manager that he should have had someone at the front directing us where to go if he didn’t want us sitting here.”
waitress: “Sir we’re short-staffed, as for the reason why we’re not serving in this area.”
my date: “Go get your manager.”

Picture me, sinking VERY low into my chair. 

So girl comes back with her manager and this is how the next conversation went down.

manager: “Hi sir, I hear we have a problem about sections and service. We are not serving in this area tonight, I think my waiter mentioned we are short-staffed, so we don’t have enough staff to cover this area. I truly am sorry for the inconvenience, but I’d certainly appreciate your move so we can better assist you.”
my date: “I appreciate you coming over to help us out, but do you know how much money I make?”
Me <–deer in headlights…and then he whips out his wallet
my date: “I’m a very important person in the City of Dallas, I have a very respected job (I find out later, he works for DART in Marketing) and I make probably more than you do in an entire year, in a months salary. If I wanted to, I could buy out this whole section, and probably this whole restaurant for the night. So tonight, my date and I are going to enjoy some drinks and food and you will serve us here, in this section.”
Me <–deer in headlinghts…still.

manager: “Sure thing. What can I get for you?”

So we order our drinks and food…he talks about himself some more. And some more. Finally…the check comes. Tell me why I haven’t learned how to be the bad guy and just dart? Anyways, I ALWAYS offer to pay on a date. I mean, I just have always offered the thought. As soon as I said it, he replied quickly with, “put your money away, you’ll never make as much as me, you shouldn’t waste your money.”

I felt like I was the stupid kid in class sitting in the back row and the teacher tells you that you’ll never make it in life. I mean…really? At what point in his life did he realize he was better than everyone else? At that point, I really was ready to go.

So as we’re taking the elevator down, why the hell does he feel the need to back me up to the elevator wall and try to make out with me? Uh no!!! Needless to say, I pushed him away, in which he became angry and said a few choice words and once the elevator wrangled open, he told me to lose my number.

Really?

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