Tag Archives: men

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.

Ross From Friends

24 Aug

I just kissed Ross from Friends!

Well…not David Schwimmer, but a guy who looks very similar.

Met a Guy from OKCupid and our date was interesting. I’m unsure of him…unsure of the date and totally unsure of his characteristics.

Did I mention I totally just made out with Ross from Friends…in the parking lot of Sherlocks Pub?

He also kicked my ass 2/3 at air hockey and I owe him dinner.

Let me also mention that I also kicked his ass at pool 2/3 and he’s planning on cooking me dinner.

More to come…

Yes Please!

26 Jun

So my mom and I were watching the U.S. Olympic Swim Trials last night on NBC, and as super hot, almost half-naked men walked around stretching their tight muscles, my mom shouted out, “Michael Phelps is single! There’s still hope.”

As hot as he is…I quickly stereotyped and went out on a limb saying that he probably only dated skinny women…which I am not.

Although I find myself going to the gym five days a week and getting in the pool on the weekends, I’m just not there…not yet anyways. =)

But my mom sort of cut me off. “He was in the news the other day, talking about how it’s hard for him to meet/date women who can deal with the way he eats and his workout schedule.”

First of all…”in the news” meant that she was probably watching TMZ or Entertainment Tonight…not MSNBC or CNN. Second of all…is my mom really trying to match me up with Michael Phelps? He’s a celebrity of sorts and I’m just the average girl-next-door from Texas.

But I’ve got him covered…

He needs to either date another swimmer (eh!)…or date a girl who’s trying to lose weight.

The girl trying to lose weight will appreciate the fact that he has weird-ass eating schedules and the need to eat healthy, etc. She’ll also appreciate the time he spends in the gym/swimming, etc. What a motivational pick-me-up!

Hell, I’d eat weird and healthy crap 10 times a day, and swim hundreds of laps just to see THAT body! Wouldn’t you? Hells yeah!

So here’s me reaching out…

Dear Michael…
You are one hunk of a man. And tall. I’m about 6′ and would be a perfect match for you. Let’s make this happen. -<3- LikeOmigod

 

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