Miz Adventures...Tales of Dating Gone Wrong!

Intellectual Inequality

2012-02-23T18:55:00.000-08:00

I've been rather quiet the past couple of weeks, but I met someone. Our first date was a meet and greet at a coffee shop in the middle of a Sunday afternoon. Our second date was a couple of days later for sushi and a walk in the park on a particularly sparkling day. Our third date was my suggestion of bowling - which I suggested, followed by several matches of darts - which he suggested because (and I quote) "I just don't want this date to end!"

Neither did I.

He's a kind soul and on paper, a suitable match. And he has 20 inch arms, which for me is as big of a draw as a hairy chest! He is, however, kinda dumb. OK, not even close to kind of. Talking to him makes me feel like I'm speaking to a five year old. I find myself using very basic language and even then I get a quizzical look from him. Can people find happiness with someone who does not have the same intellectual capacity? Or is this just a futile effort on my part?

Milestones in internet dating...basically a post about NOTHING

2012-01-25T09:07:00.000-08:00

My on-line dating profile is an anomaly of sorts - vague, yet somewhat personal. Witty, yet honest. I listed items of importance to me that will allow the reader to catch a glimpse into my personality.

If they read it.

And, let's be honest. Guys don't. They're visual creatures, regardless if they claim their subscription to Playboy is "only for the articles." (I sometimes peek at Playboy for the celebrity nip slips in the back.)

I've recently did a little test on my profile. It was a bit calculating on my part, but I'm getting pretty tired of the revolving door of first dates due to my broken picker, and this has helped, at least on the surface.

I set my profile picture to one of myself wearing a "Candy cane licker" t-shirt.

The t-shirt photo was an amazing success. I got hundreds of replies from men who offered up their own "candy canes," one more redundant than the other. Not a single original message from the bunch. There were two that I called out because after actually reading their profiles, I expected better - until my picker picked up a bit and set me straight.

**************************************

Last week, I received my very first message from a chick!

"I think you are incredibly sexy and wanted to know if you would be interested in another woman. I also have a very well endowed male friend that lives near you. He can play with or without me if you would like to meet one of us."

Although flattered...I like the cock. Of course I expressed that in a much nicer way because ladies don't openly use the work cock. Except that I just did. Twice. Dammit! New Years Resolution, thwarted!

**************************************
Last night, my total "guys who want to meet you" hit 600. Let's not talk about what a farce that feature is and just focus on how incredibly hot and sexy I am that six hundred (plus three more this morning) horny men want to stick the tip in! Blah.

How'd you get that angry?

2012-01-13T13:07:00.000-08:00

Over a year ago, I answered an ad on creepy Craigslist and met a guy that I saw a couple of times. He was nice enough, but it didn't take long to find out that he was a child trapped in a man's body. Our first couple of dates involved him being on his best behavior, and then he invited me to his place for dinner.

He served up a tasty meal, I have to admit. It was some kind of chicken stir fry with lots of fresh vegetables.

Afterwards, we retreated to his room.

That's where he lit up a joint and started playing Call of Duty...with a bunch of 8th graders, on line. I'm a bit of a cusser myself, but got super uncomfortable when he started to tell his teammates and opponents that he was going to fuck their mother's in the ass. You know, while I'm sitting there stunned. I pretty much excused myself and left him to play his game.

I was upset with the drug use...but honestly, I was more upset that he thought that I would *enjoy* sitting there watching him play a stupid video game. I told him that I didn't think we had much in common and he quietly went away into the great dating abyss.

Fast forward to this past week. Apparently, he still has my number. I got an out of the blue text from him and of course, I had no idea who it was. So, I asked - and naturally, he didn't take that kindly. He started send me insults masked with little emotion cons, then got upset if I ignored him. I told him flat out that I was not interested and to please take his time elsewhere.

So - he did. On the dating site I use.

Imagine my surprise (not) when he found me there.

I fibbed and told him that I was seeing someone, in hopes that he would just go away. Now, this is true and not - I am talking to a couple of people that I am finding interest in and would like to pursue. He took issue that I am still online and haven't moved offline to chat it up with these people.

(Text is copied and pasted, so don't make fun of me for the misspellings and grammar errors...btw, I didn't respond to any of these emails - but the running commentary he provides makes me wonder what kind of conversation *he thinks* we were having!)

"Fort a girl that claims you are seeing someone or interested in someone you are on here an aweful lot....rather odd and shady for you to be doing so when you SAY you are seeing someone? Underminded."

"LMFAO....perhaps you are keeping your options open and are a shady shitlike most women who claim not? hahaha...That's what cell phones are for....it's ok....you needn't explain anything to me for sure....I just
think it's comedy that you do so still....goes to show that you women are sneaky and shady if not more so
then men...I think its hilarious!"
"LMFAO! Cloak yourself all you desire....I will ALWAYS see through your so-called masked charade!
hahahaha... Peace out!"

"Yeah...sucks when someone calls you out on your bullshithuh? LMFAO! Don't hate me for seeing your shady ass douchbag ways......NOT my fault for you being a grimey cunt...it happens...I just think its absolutely comedy that you try and weasel your way out of it when I called you out...but it's all good....I think you'rejust pissed that you can't hide it from everyone....but good for you that you found a stupid ass gulable guy that will out up with it.....you go girl! LMFAO!"

My eyes hurt. I finally blocked his fucking ass...but I gotta admit, I was enjoying watching the massive implosion.

Fuck it. No, seriously...fuck it.

2012-01-09T08:54:00.000-08:00

I was going to keep adding updates to my last post, but thought it would be a futile effort when all is said and done.

This morning, out of sheer curiosity, I checked Mr. Married Facebook Guy's page. The thumbnail and suggestion was gone from my phone. I searched his name, and the page had disappeared. There are two troubling scenarios...I was blocked, or he set his entire profile to private...and that of his wife's as well. Either way, it wasn't good because it meant that POF guy and Mr. Married Facebook Guy were the same person. The coincidence was now just too great and the scales are tipped with sufficient proof.

"Funny. XXX has disappeared from facebook, as has his wife, XXX."

"XXX is my cousin. I'm staying with him since I came here. He flipped the fuck out on me. I'm sorry but I can't have him kicking me out so I told him."

Can we talk about this for a second? JUST YESTERDAY POF Guy told me that he had *no idea* who this person on facebook was. He said he had never met him or even heard of him. Turns out, he lied to me, but the lie is greater and more grand because there's a level of sceeming and lying that I am just not used to.

The story he came up with, is that his cousin is Mr. Married Facebook Guy and he is staying with him and his wife. He told his cousin of the facebook snafu, and he supposedly flipped out (WHY???) upset that I would try to contact him or (more importantly) his wife. I would think that if this was the likely scenario, the cousin would chuckle and tell POF Guy to invite me over so we could all have a fantastic laugh about it. Ummmm no...the reaction instead was "he seriously went ape shit on me because you were probably going to message him or his wife and then he said he would kill himself." Yes...KILL. HIMSELF.

That statement alone pretty much summed up the fact that this guy is the Married Facebook Guy. (Anyone out there still want to give him the benefit of the doubt?) I told him that I believed that he is married. I then asked him to please not do that to another girl because it really hurts to get knocked down in that manner - nor is it fair.

Nothing should surprise me at this point, but this does. I'm ashamed to admit that I shed a tear (or several) because I was too trusting, too wanting to be emotionally available, too naive to see the initial writing on the wall. I don't want to turn into one of those hard-assed bitches who has so many walls up that happiness will never been fully realized! But, I see myself getting to that point, especially with this experience.

Deception uncovered?

2012-01-08T11:40:00.000-08:00

The guy: 5'10'', dark hair, good looking, 33 years old, dog owner (breed specific), Football fan (team specific), educated, State employee who newly relocated to the area a few months ago, spicy food lover, relationship minded, single with no children.

In other words...perfect for me, on paper.

We chatted for about a week before I finally said "Screw this! I'm giving you my phone number. Text me sometime."

He did. We chatted all night.

The thing about getting a phone number, or email address is that if you have a smart phone, and a facebook account, you will then get a lovely email saying who your phone thinks you should be friends with. This has worked well for me in the past when I came upon 'The Tinkler,' and it has laid down a ton of confusion for me right now.

You see, the man that my phone thinks I should be friends with is married.

There are way too many coincidences for me to think anything but negatively about this. Same first name, same last name first initial, same dog (different name - facebook guy named his "Snoopy" and POF guy said his was named "Spoons"), same football team, same location of hometown. I had my favorite married couple compare the photos and they both agreed that it was probably the same guy...the facebook guy being 10 years older than the POF photos.

I feel had.

My sister thinks that I should continue talking to him and agree to meet with his this coming week (as we've been planning) and if he isn't how he's publicized himself she gives me permission to dump a glass of ice water in his lap. I have to admit, I kind of like that idea, even if it's not really me.

What I decided to do is ask him. Novel idea, eh? Being upfront and honest?!

I texted him this morning. I explained what I had found and he replied...stunned. He said he didn't know what to say, but he is not that guy and he is not married. I don't know what to believe, and I am beyond confused at this point. My bullshit meter isn't going off like it should!

He asked if he could call me tonight so we could talk and possibly set up a date for this week because he wants to take me to dinner. I told him he could.

What are the chances that this guy, who is so perfect for me on paper, is actually the real deal? What are the chances that this whole facebook thing is actually a really weird snafu? What are the chances that I'm just a complete moron and I'm being played by the king of all playas?

Also...I have to say - facebook is freakin awesome as a free PI.

Do these boots make me look slutty?

2011-12-19T09:12:00.000-08:00

I sent this picture to a couple of my lady friends and asked for their opinion as to whether or not these skinny, holey jeans and boots give off an impression of sluttiness. Or rather, "non-mommy" material.

We all know that women take great pains when it comes to dressing for dates, because the first impression is so vitally important. If you look hot, you feel hot and if you're feeling your date - - you might get laid!

For me, this fashion choice was a little more...strategic. You see, the dude as 7 kids.

Yes. S-E-V-E-N.  From ages 4 to 23. And, he's only 39. (Do the math!) So, the overall goal was to look as "non-mommy" as possible. According to a couple of friends, the brown boots showed above were not slutty enough, so I changed into a pair of black stiletto knee high boots, and there was 100% agreement that that look was sluttier. (Which makes me think a little, because I wear those boots almost every day! OMG.)

Why did I agree to go on a date with a guy who pays child support for a basketball team?  I've been on so many crappy dates recently and he seemed genuinely excited about meeting me. Nor did he approach the subject of sex during our conversations and he didn't show me his penis. And, hello.  FREE BEER!

Come on. You know you were thinking it too, by now. As my friend likes to say, "a girl's gotta eat."

The date, meh. I found out that he has 3 baby-mamas to go with his commune of kids. All 3 women he married and all of the children were planned. Oh...and, he cheated on ALL of his wives with multiple partners. It's very obvious that the guy can't keep his willy in his pants (or covered with a thin barrier).  For a moment, I thought that the lower portion of my outfit might work against me and make him see me as the "next mommy" but luckily he caught onto my signs of displeasure and foreseeable rejection.

This date did get me thinking. How much is *too much* to reveal?  Revealing that you cheated on all of your wives throughout the duration of your marriage(s) isn't really going to show you in the best of light. I can't imagine wanting to hop right into his bed. Or, maybe - like my "non-mommy material" boots, his revelation was his way of waving his own white flag and subliminally telling me that he wasn't interested as well. No explanation needed.

Dating is all about the signals, good and bad.

On a side note - Wombat fashioned a post about sexual planning from a comment I made about one of my favorite sexual positions. I may or may not have a slight crush on Wombat. His use of the english language kinda makes me weak in the knees. Check out Kiss And Blog!

Someone pick me up off the floor - I'm laughing too hard

2011-12-16T08:18:00.000-08:00

Just when you thought you'd seen it all and nothing could surprise you - this happens.

I got a message from a guy yesterday. We went back and forth for a bit, then hopped onto the chat feature and took it from there. He was very complimentary of my photos and profile and said that I seemed like a really nice girl that he was interested in getting to know better. He asked if he could call me later that night, which I agreed to and we exchanged phone numbers. He then asked if I had facebook, which - HELLO! All the cool kids are on facebook...of course I am as well. He sent a facebook friend request and I sat on that for about an hour before my own curiosity got the best of me. I approved him, then started digging through his pictures. (I realize that's a bit stalkerish - but I assume he was doing the same.) Then very suddenly and without warning...he defriended me.

I know there are some pretty ugly pictures that I've been tagged in, but really? LOL

So - I went back to our chat session, which had still been on-going and he had blocked me!

I was pretty dumbfounded, to say the least. So, shaking my head at the ridiculousness of it all, I texted him this morning. Because, after all...he gave me his phone number. Sucker! So, I let my fingers do the talking.

I really hope that if you try talking to women in the future, and if they open up a private space for you, don't use that against them. I have no idea what made you decide that I'm not worthy to talk to, but whatever. If you're as honest as you claim to be, I'm sure you would've told me. And that bullshit about being raised by a single mother...shelve it please. You have absolutely no integrity.

And that's when I found out that *I* was the sucker!

Who is this? I think you have the wrong number. I'm in North Carolina and I don't know anyone in area code xxx. Where is that anyway?

(Oh good god! Really? REALLY?!)

I'm sorry! Some guy named xxx is giving your number out on a dating site. I apologize. I was played.

xxx you say? That's my son's daddy. U must be in xxx. He's up there visiting for wedding. He's crazy. He lives in NC, owns a home here. He's just looking for a lay sounds like. He played me too, except now we have a son together.

(Hmmm...he told me he didn't have kids. And, that he moved to my area several months ago and was looking for someone to show him around.)

He didn't admit to a child. This is so fucked up! Go onto a dating site and give your ex-girlfriend's number out?! I'm so sorry. I've met a number of weirdos...but he takes the cake. I hope you don't get more girls yelling at you like I did, thinking it was him.

Wow, he is too funny. He owns a custom home building company in Charlotte. I know he didn't move to xxx. He packed a suitcase for a week and has round trip airfare. I do know that he is staying at the xxx in xxx. Hate to ask this, but are you a stripper? He only messes with them. Guess that's why he liked me...haha.

(OMG! Did he think I was a stripper?! Like a really HOT stripper, or one of those ugly-ass phone sex operator strippers with saggy boobs and a penis tucked into their asshole?)

LOL. That's a nice hotel. I can't say this enough...I'm sorry you were dragged into this. It's really unfair to you. I still have no idea why he would give your number. I am not a stripper, although I once took an exotic dance class...which I didn't reveal to him.

Sweet! Hey listen, you sound nice, if you want to talk to him on-line again, don't tell him I told you this, but he's MARRIED. He gave you my number because he's an asshole.

(Awesome. Married. With a separate baby mama. What a catch.)

WOW!!! It just keeps getting better! LOL. You sound like a great girl too.

We should be facebook friends.

Let's do it.

And there you have it. You can be anything you want on-line. You can block, delete and defriend all day long. But if you give out someone else's phone number, and they know your ass intimately - and it's not someone who believes in bro-code, you can't expect them to keep quiet on your douche'baggery.

I can only hope that my new friend doesn't get herself into too much trouble, but I do have to admit that I am STILL laughing from all of these new developments and have no intention of throwing her under the bus. Besides, I have since blocked him, so he can't see our new budding friendship develop. :)

It's funny...I was once afraid when I first started this blog that I wouldn't have enough stories to keep it going. I now firmly believe that there are enough freaks and weirdos in the dating world to sustain me for a lifetime. Now, if only Prince Charming would come down and wrap me in his golden cloak of normalcy! However I once read somewhere that Prince Charming was gay...so that wouldn't work for me either.

Interesting developments in the case of the creeper

2011-12-15T08:42:00.000-08:00

Which creeper you ask?

I know. There's been quite a few. I'm specifically speaking about the one last week - whom I was excited about meeting, then met and actually felt bad about the way things turned out. I may have cried, if I remember correctly. I know I went home feeling like a big pile of flaming dog shit.

Last night, as I was killing time and multi-tasking, I came across a profile I had not seen before.

The skies opened up, my eyes got big, I let out a huge sigh of relief and followed with a long drawn out chuckle. Although I did not necessarily dodge a bullet - because, after all I still had the pleasure of meeting the kid - I did have the gumption to leave before anything bad happened to myself or my wallet. It sounds as though others did not.

Behold the words of the vigilante*:

For those of you ladies who have had the pleasure (I mean heartache) of dating/meeting/chatting with MD198333, mrromantic0903, or now mr. romantic (aka Tim), he just changed his name, then please be aware that he is a con. He dates multiple women and doesnt use protection...if you know what I mean. His profile is false and he is nothing he claims to be. I am only here to warn as many girls that would like to be warned. If you choose to get ahold of him then good luck to you cuz he will womanize you. I am only looking out for others so they don't have to put up with his lies. But when you find out the truth, please don't say you weren't warned. Please be careful as he is also jealous, insecure and has a temper at times.
Just in case he happens to change his screen name again, his real name is Tim and he claims he is a Dr/PA/orthopedic surgeon...but he's definitely not. If you meet up with him his wallet will somehow be "lost" or his ATM accounts will be "frozen" and will not have money. He is NOT a millionaire! He will also be quick to try to kiss you or get physically involved...most likely by going to a park. I've also been informed that he also has been on craigslist, cupid.com and possibly other dating sites.

I use this blog as a means to keep myself entertained on these dates I subject myself to. I have to admit that I love the idea of someone creating a fake profile (as a man, so the women will be the ones to see it), and letting out this guys dirty laundry! Why had no one thought of this before?! It really could've saved me a load of time and effort. LOL. Although, then there would be no juicy stories to pass on.

I did reply to the person and told him/her of my experience and commended them on thinking of this form of communication to stop a predator. I have received no answer yet.

*In my head, I want to think that the owner of the fake profile is this guys best friend who is looking out for the female population as a whole, because he's disgusted at how this low-life treats the fairer sex. I may also imagine that he wears a superhero costume and has special powers, but truth of the matter is, it's probably just a woman scorned.

Real men don't eat "morsels"

2011-12-08T08:21:00.000-08:00

I used to like morsels. Little chocolate drops of goodness in my cookies, patented by Nestle Toll House. Now, when I hear the word, a chill goes down my spine and gives me the willies - and all because I once went on a couple of dates with a guy who refused to eat normal sized meals. It was just weird.

For the record, I know that's a pretty shitty reason not to pursue a relationship with someone. The actual excuse I gave was his clingy'ness was overwhelming - which it was - but his appetite of a bird was the true reason for the separation. If there is one thing I know about my rules of attraction, is that I like manly men. Manly men don't eat bite sized meals, just like they don't eat quiche...they scarf down 20 oz. steaks! If I'm cooking for a man, I want him to eat my food with gusto and help himself to seconds, not pick at the plate like a little girl.

We chatted for a while before meeting. This was way before I was suckered into creating a profile on-line. I was scoping out the awesome men on the Craigslist Personals. (Which honestly, in my experience is creepy, but did produce better dates than the ones I met on an actual "dating site.") He was a genuinely nice guy - new to the area, a professional photographer specializing in naturalist art. He asked me out for dinner to a lovely Thai place and thus is started.

I was famished when I arrived for the date and really excited to try their pad thai, which is one of my favorite dishes. Even now, my mouth is watering just typing about it! I glanced at the menu, but I knew what I had my heart set on, so when the waitress came over to take our order, I didn't hesitate at all. Of course, this is also when I learned that you should discuss your food choice with your date. I excitedly ordered the pad thai, extra spicy, and he ordered an appetizer.

The thought and worry that went through my mind at that time were a little "female crazy." Did I misunderstand him when he said he wanted to go to dinner? Did I unknowingly order the most expensive thing on the menu? Why isn't he eating? Did he already peg me for someone he wasn't interested in, so he ordered something small so that he could get out the date fast? Can he not afford this place? I'm going to be eating in front of him while he sits and watches me! I should've ordered something small too, because now I feel like I'm going to owe him! God, he thinks I'm a fatso. I know...I'll just eat half and take the rest to go - - or offer to share. Ahhh....what if he pulls that move that you see in movies where the guy feeds the girl? That's so stupid. Fuck that! If he wants to eat off my plate without swapping spit first, I'm outta here. Oh god, my stomach just growled. Wait! Here comes my food!

Yup. That was pretty much the internal monologue I had.

And true to form, he finished his 3 dumplings first, and I ate in front of him for the next 15 minutes.

After our plates were collected (and my leftovers put into a handy container for me to take home), I asked him why he didn't order a meal.

"I like small morsels of food."

Honestly, I didn't know where to go from there. Obviously, the men I've dated or had relationships in the past were great big food loving hogs - and I appreciated that. This whole thing was so new to me, and not new in a good way. The date ended casually, he walked me to my car and gave me a big hug before we parted ways. I immediately texted a friend who was out with a couple of girlfriends - and met them out for a nightcap.

"Guys...he eats morsels. What the fuck are morsels? That's just weird."

"Stop finding the perceived negative in people and just give him a chance for fuck's sake. You are being way to shallow."

That's my girl...always ready to kick my ass the way real friends do.

Mr. Morsel didn't wait until the pre-requisite 3 days to call me again. I heard from him the next day, asking me out again for the next weekend. I swallowed my shallowness and said yes, thinking I can play this game and eat small bites too. Funny thing, he suggested a fancier place with a well known chef who is known for their small bites - mainly a dish made of pork belly. (Yum. I've only heard rumors of this pork belly dish and now was excited about my own morsel experience!)

Second date was good and lasted for hours. Plates of morsels littered our table as we both picked at the spread before us. This date ended with a kiss, which was very nice. It happened in the street between our cars and actually caused a pedestrian to whistle and proclaim that it was inspiring to see two people in love. Ummm...

The getting to know you phase lasted another couple of weeks, followed by a dinner at my house, which I painstakingly prepared and filled with, you guessed it, small morsels. That's when I realized that I hated cooking in that way and the constant state of cling'dom came on full force. This was not going to work.

And really, it wasn't him...it was me. Some people have their quirks and although his as such a small drop in the bucket, I couldn't deal with it. Food is so sensual, and the preparation of food in particular. It's a way for me to show my desire for someone - and in this entire dating cycle, he is the only one I've ever prepared a "meal" for...and it sadly, just didn't work for me.

Truth be told, there is someone out there that will snatch him up in a heartbeat. That someone just wasn't me.

My 'picker' is off

2011-12-07T08:37:00.000-08:00

I am a certified loser magnet.

I could probably end this post right there and not continue to dwell on what happened last night, but for the sake of this blog and any other loser magnet that may stumble across these ramblings, I will write it all out.

I went on my date last night with this guy, you know...the guy I claimed to have high hopes for? And, I did. Yes, there was the age difference, but at this point in the game, it really didn't matter to me that much. We spend a good chunk of time on the phone over the last couple of days talking about the usual stuff. He "passed" all of my pre-date requirements.  He has obviously played this game before because I was fooled.

The date was his to plan. Being new to the area himself, I was very interested to see what he would come up with - and gave him a couple of ideas to help him along. (ex: coffee at this really cool little place.)  Later in the day, he said to meet him in the parking lot outside of the movie theaters and we'd go from there. Oooooo....mysterious!

Sitting through my committee meeting was torture! I kept looking at the clock. Luckily, I was the one running it, so I was able to keep everyone else on track and got out of there with minutes to spare. On my way to the rendezvous, I got a text from him saying "So, I was thinking we could go to your house if we hit it off." Ummm....no. I explained that I wanted to have a first meeting in public and was looking forward to getting to know him. I pulled into the parking lot, found him and walked over to his car.  I sat down, and it went positively downhill from there.

The conversation went as follows:
Me: Hi, xxx. Nice to finally meet you.
Him: Can I kiss you?
Me: Ummm...I guess. (Thinking it would be a swift peck on the cheek.)
*insert tongue down my throat here*
Me: (pulling myself out of his grasp) I wasn't expecting that exactly.
Him: I really like you.
Me: So, what have you got planned for us?
Him: Let's go back to your place.
Me: I already told you that I'm not going to do that.  Why don't we go have a beer?
Him: I have to insert a heart cath into a patient in the morning, so I'm not drinking tonight.
Me: Oh, ok.  That's fine. How about a cup of coffee?
Him: I don't drink caffeine at night.
Me: Did you eat dinner yet? (Fair question...I had not, being stuck in a meeting.)
Him: Yes. And, I'm not going to sit in a restaurant and watch you eat. I also think it's boring to just sit and talk. I want to do something.
Me: How about bowling?
Him: How about we just go back to your house?
Me: No. I'm firm on that, so please respect my wishes to not bring a stranger back to my place. I would like to sit and talk to you and get to know you better. I've been on some pretty bad dates and I'm trying to learn from those dates.
Him: I think you're judging me for the bad dates you've been on.
Me: I may be, and I'm sorry. I just prefer not to be hurt.
Him: I think that we just chalk this meeting up to being two different people who want different things.
Me: OK.  So, I guess I'll just leave then. You've already made up your mind that since I won't invite you over tonight, that you'd rather not get to know me.
Him: We can just go back to your place.
*I start digging for my keys in my bag*
Me: I'm terribly sorry if you felt you wasted your time. If you get home and think these past ten minutes over and you'd like to actually go and do something fun to get to know each other - I'm free on Friday night.
Him: I already told you my life story. You know all about me.
Me: No I don't. You can't learn about people in a couple of phone conversations. And, it would've been nice for you to try to learn more about me. Take care.

So - I get out of his grasp and start to walk back to my car. What I hadn't noticed in the time I was in his car, is that it started to rain. Without looking back, I can hear that he put his car into drive and was pulling out. He left the parking lot before I even unlocked my car.

His self proclaimed "maturity" went out the window. This kid was a fool. I was a fool. And, what makes it more scary for me is that he was getting so aggressive - pulling my arm and locking the door - I was a little concerned for my well being. That's a fucking HORRIBLE feeling, let me tell you. And one reason I insist upon meeting in a public place. If I had known that the conversation was going to go down in that way, I would've never gotten out of my car.

Driving home, I got really angry...at myself mostly. It seems as though every guy I get excited about, let's me down. Is the cure to that becoming totally jaded? How fair is it to go on a first date with someone and not at least try. Lord knows I've been on some lousy dates, but to my credit I do really try to engage and be funny, even if I'm not feeling the person. (Unless, you're him...then all bets are off.) Was this just some kind of big elaborate plan just to get me into bed - be super nice for several days so my guard is down, because you are so great that I will automatically drop my panties within 5 minutes of actually meeting you?!

I called my friend for a little feminine therapy, because sometimes it's nice to hear other people swear and make fun of people they don't know. I then asked the age old question from most singles - "Why don't you and your husband have any cute single guy friends? Can you get on that please?" Needless to say, that then sparked a whole facebook friend overhaul and now the quest is on to find a non-creeper for their friend Miz Adventures.

God help us.

High hopes for date night

2011-12-06T12:26:00.000-08:00

I have another first date tonight. I'm trying to remain optomistic, but it really is getting a little...old. I admit it, I'm jaded. Completely and utterly jaded. I'm trying so desperately not to imagine all of the bad things I know I will find in this guy - starting with his tender young age. (Why I am attracted to guys 10 years my junior when I *know* this will not work out?! And, why for the love of all things holy, are they attracted to me?!)

Pro's:
He's tall.
Has a good job.
2 degrees - both in the science field, so he's intelligent.
He spells everything correctly.
He has man hands.
He volunteered in Africa building schools, so he knows how to use those man hands.
He has amazing green eyes.
He made me laugh.
He kept my attention on the phone, and offered up details about his family without hesitation.
He's a transplant to this area, so that opens a ton of new adventure.
He lives alone.
He complimented me on my own language skills and said I had a sexy voice.
He likes sports.

Con's:
His age. He's 26. I'm not.
His parents died when he was young, and he's an only child. Not a happy childhood.
He seems a little too excited to meet me. (This is scary.)
He had two degrees by the time he was 19.
He has three bullet wounds from doing medic work in Afganistan with the military.

The age thing has been acknowledged by both of us. It's not that big of a deal for me now, but I can see it being one if things work out. For him, he said that he's always gravitated towards older women because he's experienced so much in life thus far, that he has nothing in common with women his own age. In speaking with him, he is on the more mature side...but he looks like a baby!

Hmmmm...I should probably just chill out and go with the flow, right? Right.

An update from dates past...

2011-11-27T16:00:00.000-08:00

Men have come and gone, but some are like fruit flies - resilient little boogers that will WILL NOT go away. And, I seem to be the sickingly sweet nectar they are attracted to. HA!

The Pube Nazi. Our first, and only real-life meeting was in June, not long after I started into the realm of on-line dating. He texted me again shortly after telling me that we weren't a match because of my chosen down-there hair style. Although I have not had the crazy, mind-blowing sex that I joked I would have with him...I still get little text messages from him at least once a week. I usually reply back with something cute or smart, just enough to keep him entertained. That hook I have into him must hurt by now.

Our last interaction was today:
Pube Nazi: I hope you had a great Thanksgiving. Maybe this week we can go out to dinner and you can see the new house.
Me: My holiday was lovely. Thank you for asking - that's so sweet. I still can't move from all of the food that went into my belly.
Pube Nazi: LOL. I can't eat that much.
Me: Why?! Are you on a diet?
Pube Nazi: Trying to keep my girlish figure.
Me: That is such a manly statement, I don't even have any kind of reply.
Pube Nazi: I know all the right things to say.

Indeed. I'll let the conversation fizzle out at that. I have no intention of seeing him again, but I'm (oddly) enjoying this game we seem to be playing. I must say though, he is one of the most strikingly good looking people I have ever laid eyes on, so it is kind of a shame.

The Fucktard. Oh Fucktard...you REALLY didn't play your cards right. The dual personality is such a turn off, as is the passive aggressive behavior that you've displayed recently. I did not let him help me move, even though I thought about it long and hard. Several weeks ago, he started stalking my profile, sending me ":)" and ";)" via the email system. Not much to respond to, buddy. So, I've ignored...I mean, if you can't put a sentence together - why should I be bothered? About a week ago I got this: "So, you obviously don't want me the way that I want you. I've tried so hard to get your attention and start over. Please contact me!" A-huh.

Mr. 1%. I thought I made it clear that I was not interested in your brand of Republican'ism? Stop. Please. Mr. 1% has updated me on all the new and "interesting" things in his daily life since our date. I have seen pictures of his Christmas tree, his favorite ornament and the new cocktail that he created...he also sent me descriptive texts about his Thanksgiving meal, his last workout and his plans for this evening (take out, beer and football). In none of those messages did he ask a single thing about myself. He just really, really digs himself!

One of these days, I will write about the Morsel Guy. He was a Craigslist find and recently started contacting me again - but he's being very subtle about it - so I'm letting that train wreck play out.

"I'm perfect."

2011-11-21T17:35:00.000-08:00

Never did two words send such a horrid chill down my spine as those two did tonight. "I'm perfect."

Perfect for what?! For yourself? For the world? For all of the throes of women batting down your door? You've been single how long? Oh, 8 years...yeah...well, chances are - YOU'RE NOT PERFECT!

And why exactly did I agree to go on a date with you?!

Yes - the date started out by the guy telling me he was perfect. I actually tried to counter balance, asking him if he meant perfectly imperfect. Nope. He has his shit together, lives a wonderful life and is PERFECT. And, here Mr. Perfect are the reasons you are not perfect, from a woman batty enough not to catch on to the warning signs beforehand:

1. You have bad teeth...unless you live in England, that's not allowed.
2. You have two earrings, and you wear hoops.
3. You shoo'ed the waitress.
4. You walked out on your girlfriend without giving her a reason or a response. (Interesting share, no?)
5. You couldn't read my body language AT ALL.
6. You couldn't remember something I had repeated twice.
7. You talked over me.
8. You were late.
9. You don't drink. (Avoid people who don't drink!!!)
10. You told me that I was going to hell for saying that drinking a glass of wine with dinner is OK.
11. You insulted me no less than 5 times about my upbringing, my job choice, my lack of a formal education, my musical abilities and my choice of a hot chocolate over coffee.
12. You started arguing with me over my opinion of not wanting to have children until I was in a stable, committed relationship - or ever.

I'm sure that if I spent more than 20 minutes with him, I could have more to add to the list - but after giving him several chances at redeeming himself, *I* decided that I didn't like his style of "perfect" and walked out.

I need a new list of questions to ask before meeting someone because something is getting lost in translation here....or I really am a huge loser magnet!

I'm about ready to stereotype all finance guys...like I do accountants!

2011-11-21T10:14:00.000-08:00

Over the last several months of dating, I've been out with a number of guys who work in "finance." Finance is such a loosely used term. I mean, it could mean banking (as in...I'm a teller!), or investments, financial planning, insurance and even real estate. In the realm of *my* dating, when I've met someone in finance, I usually get a guy who is not only full of himself, arrogant and rude, but also incredibly boring and sometimes a little creepy (referencing this post, date #1). It's very hard not to remind some people that everyone's shit stinks.

(I must say though...the one who slipped through my fingers was an investment broker. Its funny because life got in the way of us connecting. His friend committed suicide and he became very introverted afterwards - and it's such a shame, because I think about him from time to time. I may have just peeked at his facebook profile too. Shhhhh....don't tell.)

My last date with a guy in finance didn't go very well.

In fact, my eyes may still have that glassed over look to them because I feel like I'm still recovering.

He was late. STRIKE ONE. He lied about his height. STRIKE TWO. And, he proceeded to talk about himself, politics, the economy, health care and the 1%, and why they shouldn't have to pay taxes, for over an hour. STRIKE THREE!!! I'm not afraid of hot button issues, but wowza. About 10 minutes into the conversation, he very smugly asked me if I knew who "owned" the Federal Reserve - probably because he wanted to prove how smart he was. My response, as dead-panned as possible, was "The Federal Reserve is a private entity run by Ben Bernanki." Silence on his end followed by a "Yes. You're right."

Yeah. I know. I'm not the idiot that you thought I was...and if you tried speaking to me, you might actually see that. And yet, even with the outward change in my body language and the fact that I was staring at the clock, he still didn't let up on being a self-absorbed douchebag. At one point, the female bartender came over and put another blue moon in front of me. I looked at her questionably and whispered "I didn't order this." She replied with "I know honey. But you need it...and it's on me."

Rolling. On. The. Floor. Laughing!

After the hour-long monologue, Mr. Finance then got out of his seat, but his hand on my knee and asked me what I would think if he asked me back to his house.

"I thought we were on the same page when I was thinking that we weren't really feeling each other."

Then, the excuses started: he broke his own rule of talking more than he listened; he's a really nice guy if I just gave him a chance; he didn't want to push too fast...just a drink on the couch and no hanky-panky; girls need to relax a little and not judge every guy on the "relationship scale"; oh, I'm not saying you're basing your decision on the relationship scale; I think you're pretty and maybe we can go on another date...etc. Again, I didn't get to say a word during any of that portion of the date either. However I did get up, put my coat on and walk towards the door, with him at my heels. Are you sure you won't change your mind? I'm really great in bed. You won't be disappointed.

"You get to your car in safe manner. It was nice to meet you. Best of luck on your future endeavors."

The End. Or so I thought...unfortunately, he knows my number and how to text. A lot. What really sucks about the whole thing is that I met him at my favorite bar and now I'm afraid to go back there!

The 8 month blow off

2011-11-16T11:06:00.000-08:00

I started my quest for love via internet dating (laugh along with me, please!) in March 2011. On my first day on line, this guy started chatting with me. The conversation wasn't deep, it wasn't sexual - it just...was. Although I like to keep my profile somewhat vague, his was even more vague. No useful information what-so-ever. He doesn't live anywhere near my town, but travels in for work a couple times a month. That immediately sent a red flag up, and thus began the 8-month excuse parade.

It almost became a game.

On Monday morning, he'd message me and ask me if I wanted to get dinner. A couple of hours later I would reply with one of my planned excuses:

1-3. Work event and/or working late/early morning
4. Family dinner/party
5. Previous plans with friends
6. Car problems
7. Sick pets
8. Board Meeting
9. Upset stomach
10. Dating someone (such a lie, but it works!)
11. The President will be on TV
12. Yoga/Gym time
13. Someones coming over to fix my insert item here
14. The weather is supposed to be bad
15. I didn't shower today

And even with that ridiculousness, he still continued to contact me. For 8 months he took the rejection like a man and it didn't phase him. How could I be such a bitch when all he wanted was to sit down and have a beer? So, I finally agreed.

Then, I got really nervous. I made this guy wait 8 months for a fucking meeting!!! For 8 months he put me on a pedestal and now *he* would be the one judging *me* and my personality! What if I made him wait that long and I didn't live up to his standards? What a waste of time on his part...for some reason, thinking that I was the cause of making someone waste time really got to me. All I could do was be myself. Novel thinking, eh?

And it was great.

Hmmmmmm...what was that Miz Adventures?

I said the date was great. God damn it!

I got to the bar a little early, started a tab and ordered a Guinness. About two minutes after my drink arrived, I felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned around slowly and there he stood - like a prince off his stallion. It was one of those rare times when I was pleasantly surprised that the guy was actually much better looking than his picture would indicate. When he sat down, I really got to take a good look at him. Strong jaw, nice eyes, really nice mouth, wide shoulders, thick arms...probably about 6'1''. He wore a baseball cap that I assumed was hiding a bit of a receding hairline (and I was right - but not anything that made me gasp). He also dressed well, smelled nice and had on new shoes.

He made me belly laugh and provided simple gestures that made me smile, like when he asked to look at my ring then held my hand for a second longer than I expected. Throughout the conversation, we physically grew closer and closer until our legs touched and our body language provided just enough of a barrier to keep the bartender and other bar patrons away. He told me that he knew he had to meet me when I said "it's a shit show" describing a part of our town.

At the end of the night he walked me to my car.

I can't believe that I was so stubborn about meeting him, but really - a 2 hour drive is a long distance. I asked him when he would be in the area again and it won't be until after Thanksgiving. I'm disappointed...but I can't act like it because I'm trying to just be cool and go with the flow. He's a great guy, and totally my type. For the time being, we have a standing date for whenever he's in town next.

I'm going to try to remain realistic and treat this whole thing with caution because he did truly have a great time with him.

I thought that having a guy proof and make changes to my profile would magically make the dating...better.

2011-11-02T07:21:00.000-07:00

Several weeks ago, I spied a hilarious interview that fellow blogger Sophie did with a gentleman named Arlequin. I thought I would ask Arlequin for some help on my internet dating profile, since what I have on there didn't seem to be doing me much good. We emailed back and forth. I revealed my identity. (Yikes!) He, kindly gave me some genuine feedback which I gladly accepted. I will say that I am not surprised that he thought I should change my picture to one that had my boobs on display!

After taking out some of my interests - "Who are you trying to attract, a woman?" - and spicing up the body of the profile with a "call to action," I unveiled the new profile for interested men.

It's hasn't done a lick of good!

My first date was with a guy who reminded me of a young John Lennon, minus the long hair. We chatted for a couple of days and then he very spur of the moment asked if I was free one night - that he wanted to buy me dinner and drinks. We chose a sports bar and met up. During the entire date, he stared at me. I totally didn't realize that I had entered a staring competition! I tried to keep the mood light, cracking jokes and telling stories, but all he did was stare. Finally, after our bill was settled I got up to leave, and he said "So...do you want to go back to your place and fuck?"

Um...no. You are a creeper. And who asks a woman that?!

Funny part in that whole story is that my phone then decided that it should suggest that I should be friends with this guy on facebook, so after knowing only his first name I then got a glimpse into why he didn't reveal (and I didn't ask) what his last name is. Tinkler. As in, taking a tinkle. The funniest part is that his first name is another word for the part that guys hold while taking a tinkle! That pretty much explains why this kid has such problems. He must have very hateful parents.

Second date was with a guy who claimed to be a photographer at our local paper. He showed up on our date with his wedding ring on display. Super! Hearing him explain his reasoning, after I called him out on it, (his wife left him 2 years ago and his daughter thinks it's his fault, so he still wears his ring for her) sent douche chills down my spine. Luckily, I didn't have to make up an excuse to leave because we had planned this date around his son's wrestling match that night, so I knew I would only have to suffer for an hour. He proceeded to take the ring off and put it in his pocket, even after I told him that he didn't have to - I mean, when you return home after your date, and you've lost your wedding ring, you will certainly be forced to eat shit.

After saying "so long, have a great life" I continued to get emails from him into the wee hours of the morning that went unanswered on my end.

The next day, around lunchtime I got this from him, and I quote..."Hey listen. I had a great time and your such a great girl. I now realize that I am not ready to move on at this point. I may never be. I am sorry but I can not date any one at this time. I need to work out many issues in my life and I can not get involved with anyone. Take care and good luck. Your a great catch. Don't settle for just any guy!"

I immediately replied with "Hard to date anyone when you have a wife at home." As soon as I clicked the send button, the email bounced back to me with a MAILER-DAEMON failure saying the email was inactive. He then deleted his online profile. That's a lot of hoops to jump through just to try to cheat on your wife. You might as well just pay for a hooker. I'm not even too upset that I was lied to and all that bullshit - I'm much more angry about the fact that he thinks that I may "settle for just any guy." Dude, if that was the case then I'd probably be married with a bunch of kids right now, just like...ummm....YOU.

Third time's a charm? I'm totally using "air quotes" on this one, because it's hardly a "date" but for the sake of this "post," we'll just "call it that." After the married guy, I started chatting with some other dude who was closer to my age and had all the superficial requirements that I look for - tall, dark, successful. We spoke on the phone a couple of times and after a long day at work, he asked me to meet him out at Starbucks. I didn't want to. I hadn't showered that day and I really didn't feel like socializing, but he was persistent about wanting to meet me, so I quickly showered, got my act together and put on a happy face. He was waiting in his car (a Lexus) when I got there and got out to greet me in the parking lot.

The exchange went a little something like this:
Me: Hi xxx! Nice to meet you.
Him: You too...it's so great to now have a face to put with a name.
Me: So, do you want to go inside and get a coffee?
Him: I can not drink another cup of coffee today.
Me: (in my head) So, why the fuck did you ask me to come out tonight and waste my time?!
Him: I just wanted to see your face.
Me: OK then. I'm going to head home.
Him: Maybe we can get together on Tuesday and go out for a nice dinner.
Me: Yeah, we'll see.
Him: It was really nice to meet you.
Me: Yup.

I got back into my car, a mere 60 seconds later and drove home. No more than 3 minutes passed when I got a text from him asking if I wanted to come over his house to watch a movie. I declined. He responded that he thought I was pretty, but he didn't want to invest any more time in chatting without seeing if I actually represented myself correctly.

I get it. I really do. I remember how I felt when I met that guy who misrepresented himself so severely that I almost threw up in my mouth. But, if I passed your little attractiveness test, then you should have just agreed to go inside the coffee shop for a few moments to get to know me a little better! Instead, you were looking for some kind of messed up booty call.

As much as I would like to say that I am done with internet dating, I still have the hope that someone will come into my life and surprise the hell out of me. Until then, I have two words that keep me going...BLOG FODDER.

Oh, and I changed my profile again to reflect more about me and my personality since trying it Arlequin's way was a huge fail. :)

A Gross Misrepresentation

2011-10-17T09:59:00.000-07:00

Have you ever suppressed a gag when meeting someone for the first time?

People come in all shapes and sizes, a variety of colors, personalities ranging from the complete bore to the life of the party - but when you send someone a picture that looks NOTHING like you and expect them to not notice, then you should make your reservation for hell right now. Sure, we all like how we look in "good" photos. I can capture an angle of myself that no one else can see. Suddenly, instead of a round face I have chiseled cheekbones! Am I proud of these pictures? Hell yes! Do I send them to people and claim I look exactly like that? No way. It's not fair, or right. Guys should take note of this too...do not send me a picture of yourself 10 years ago and 70 pounds lighter. If you do, be prepared to suffer the consequences, because I will call you on.

I have before. What's funny is that it's not really even a matter of looks...it's a matter of trust and respect. Do you really think that any kind of meaningful (or non-meaningful) relationship will ever blossom from a mis-representation of yourself? I mean, I totally have a wonderful personality (HA!), but I'm pretty sure that if I looked like Quasimodo and represented myself as Esmerelda, even a charming personality wouldn't save me from being berated and rejected upon first meeting.

This story is for Soph, who encouraged me to throw it out there!

I was talking to this guy who's picture was to.die.for. He was walking on the beach in an open white button down shirt and khaki's. Not overly defined abs, but definitely a great body. He lived kind of far from me (about 2 hours) but we chatted via email and on the phone and he seemed like a nice guy, so we planned to meet at a neutral place and go for a drive on his Harley. In passing, I asked how old the picture was - thinking it was from a recent vacation...the guy told me about a year.

HE LIED.

That picture was literally 15 years old, and possibly even older than that. Instead of the abs, there was a significant beer gut. Instead of the full head of hair, he was bald - but grossly covered it up with a bandanna. Instead of the strong jaw line, there was a double chin. It was terrible.

I called him on it. He said that he didn't think I would meet him if he sent a recent picture. I told him that he was probably right, and because of his deception I had absolutely no interest in getting on the back of a motorcycle and was also pissed about wasting my day to drive 4 hours (round trip) to meet such an asshole. And, I left.

Even though I was angry at HIM, I was also angry at MYSELF. And really, if people are going to go out of their way to be deceptive, how can you even control it? For me, it reiterates the fact that there are no solid rules to Internet dating, which is the most frustrating aspect of this whole thing.

I hate to tell you this, but...you're gay

2011-10-03T12:56:00.000-07:00

Some people are just way cooler when they can hide their physical being behind a clouded cyber world portal. Case in point, a date I had way back in July. (Yup, I'm on a bit of a dry spell so I'm pulling from the archieves.) A man who I've been chatting via text with for about 5 weeks prior. Traveling is a large part of his job, and with my busy social schedule, there had not been much opportunity for a face to face meeting.

He did not post a picture and said that he didn't give photos out free-nilly because of his job. (Is he a fucking SPY?!) Is your bullshit meter going off yet because mine certainly was! He didn't want to send a picture along because he said a coworker found out the last time he tried internet dating and passed his profile along, but he was more than willing to describe himself to me, and I quote..."I'm definitely not an ugly guy. In fact, I've been told that I'm incredibly good looking. I have sandy hair, blue eyes, a strong jaw, I'm tall and athletic. People say that I look like a movie star, but they can never remember which one. I think you'll have no problem being attracted to me."

Oh, really? We'll see. I don't know about you, but when I am forced to describe myself to someone, I am way more humble in my description.

I'm sure there will be a collective gasp from across the globe when I reveal that the date was a bust.

I've never met someone who thought so highly of himself so much that you could smell the insecurity coming out of his pores.

My gaydar was also going bonkers about 5 minutes into the date when he mentioned that he doesn't go to a very popular local bar because "it's frequented by a bunch of fags." Or, so he was told by his bodybuilder roommate. (Why did he have to tell me that he was a bodybuilder? Roommate would've been more than sufficient. And, you're 36 years old with a full time job! Why do you need or want a roommate?!) Dude, we play for the same team! And, I bet I'm way more successful. Throughout the date, he continued to talk about gay-this and gay-that and I finally looked him square in the eye and said "I think you need to come to terms with your sexuality. Straight men who are on a date with a chick don't talk about gays. They just don't. It was lovely meeting you. I wish you the very best in your search." Then, I got the hell out of there.

As far as the celebrity he said he resembles, I was trying to rack my brain for someone with as many poc marks as he had. It finally dawned on me. Dennis Stewart, who played "Leo" aka "Craterface" in Grease. He was the guy who raced John Travolta in the Thunderbird.

UG-LY.

Sorry, no longer believe the story about your coworker ratting on you. You don't upload pictures because you're fucking ugly.

Update on the Fucktard

2011-09-22T10:16:00.000-07:00

So, after mulling over an email to the Fucktard in response to his assholish behavior, I sent this simple message via his internet dating profile:

"It's very clear to me that you made your decision in whether you would like to see me again. For me, hindsight is 20/20 and I wish I had made a different decision when sleeping with you. I wish you the very best in your future ventures. Take Care."

I always try to be nice...but the 20/20 dig made me smile a little.

The Fucktard contacted me last night. I heard my phone ringing from across the apartment so, as per my usual self, I ran to it only to be grossed out with the face on the screen. I "declined" to answer and sent him to voicemail, then forgot about it and went about my nightly business.

A couple of hours later, I got a text message from him. It was all cheery and light. This really does chap my ass. How dare he? I didn't respond to him, but he continued to send me texts throughout the night - including offering to help me move this weekend.*

What I am learning is that guys hate to be dumped, especially when they felt they had the upper hand. It's totally OK for this guy to ignore me for days, then when I make a decision and say "goodbye" he's suddenly all up in my grill? I'm fairly certain that if I were to just have continued to let things be as they were (ie: no contact), I still would be waiting to hear from him.

This reminds me of my friend who claims that men LIKE to be treated like shit. I think it's that whole hunter mentality.

*Disclaimer: I'm seriously considering caving in and letting him help. I have big furniture and having a guy's muscles there would really come in handy. However, this would mean I would have to put the past behind us (not IN my behind!) and subsequently, allow him to see where my new place is. Not sure if that all is worth the manpower I would get out of it.

An officer and a...gentleman?

2011-09-20T14:35:00.000-07:00

Two weeks ago I started fielding messages from a guy who not only didn't have a picture, but also didn't have much to say on his profile. When those faced with those two none-specific things, I mentally ignore. He kept coming at me unrelentlessly until one day he enclosed a picture of himself along with "now that you see me, can you please let me take you out on a date?"

Fact of the matter was...he was cute. Very cute in fact. I did reply with an apology for not sending a reply and seeming like a snob - but as a rule of thumb I don't interact with those I can not "see," and therefore, since he sent me his picture, we could now converse. LOL. We did. It was fun. He ended up being a really nice guy.

He asked me out to dinner on a Friday and I suggested drinks instead. I'm not sure why, because I like to eat! I think that in the back of my head I thought that he may be too good to be true. Funny, isn't it? I didn't even meet him yet and I was already stacking the cards against him. What I need to realize is that a girl's instincts are never wrong. Never. But, more on that later.

Our date was fun. We sat in a booth and talked for hours. He's a military guy which makes him very serious and it became my mission to try to get him to crack a smile. I succeeded! A couple of times! I know that I am a good flirt, especially when it comes to situations that are one-on-one, but I was really feeling an instant attraction to this guy. He kept touching my hand on top of the table and played with the ring on my finger. And, you know what? It felt GOOD. There was no subconscious comparison going on. My phone was buried in my purse, on silent and I didn't even check it once! Even when he went to the bathroom and left me at our booth alone! I seriously didn't want the date to end, but like every bar in this town, they called "last call" as soon as we really started to talk about the deep stuff.

He walked me to my car. We kissed. He invited me over to his jeep and we talked a little bit more then made out a lot! I *almost* invited him over that night, but was a good girl. LOL

On the way home, he texted.
As I crawled into bed, he texted.
When I woke up in the morning, he texted.
All weekend long, we were texting. He told me that he felt a really strong connection with me and that he was excited to what the future would hold.
Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, I would wake up to a text at 4am (the start of his workday).

On Wednesday I asked him if he wanted to grab a bite to eat. We did. And followed the meal up with a couple of cocktails. I threw caution to the wind and invited him over and I let biology take over. There was (good) sex, snuggling, kissing at the door on my stoop and a date planned for the next Friday - two days away, to go to the drive-in for a three movie marathon the last weekend they were opened.

And, then I didn't hear from him.

So, basically...I gave it up too quickly. He obviously got what he was after.

Friday afternoon he texted me and told me that he was sick. I asked him what was wrong and didn't get a response. That's considered a stand up, in my humble opinion. I didn't hear from him again until Sunday night, when he revealed that he had strep throat. It's really hard not to feel sorry for someone who has strep because that is one nasty sickness. I was concerned for him and tried to convey that - but really in the back of mind I was thinking "Dude. Strep throat doesn't stop your fingers from texting!" Am I wrong to admit that I was angry and disappointed that he didn't even contact me? Am I wrong to admit that I started questioning myself as a woman with feelings because this seemingly happened after we fucked? You don't fuck a girl, then not call her and think that feelings won't be destroyed, regardless if you were sick or not, unless you're a total asshole, right?!

This guy went from sweetness to fucktard in a couple of days.

Instincts...I'm listening to you from now on because honestly, my heart just can't take it anymore.

Reflection

2011-09-15T07:10:00.000-07:00

A couple of weeks ago I met a lawyer after work for dinner and drinks. It was a lovely date...a beautiful restaurant, nice bottle of wine, interesting conversation and a sweet kiss at the end. The guy is semi accomplished as a bankruptcy lawyer, is well spoken and looks a lot like Matt Damon from some angles, but as the weeks passed I realized that...I just wasn't into him.

He didn't do anything particularly creepy. He wasn't too aggressive or forward. I'm simply not attracted to him.

I find myself in these situations quite often. Guys look great on paper, and then I meet them and there's absolutely no spark, either mentally or physically or both. It's frustrating, and it's hard to talk to my friends about it because I get accused of being too picky and not giving people a chance. I often worry about that because I am quick to move on to the next prospect. I'm trusting my insticts...but I'm also making a mental comparison against these seemingly good guys.

I have what I consider a "perfect man" (for me) in my head. My ultimate boyfriend, let's say. When I think of this imaginary person, I actually envision a face of someone who is very special to me...a guy who I've been involved with for three years now...a guy who is married and never leaving his wife. It's true. I compare potential suitors to a man that will never actually be my suitor because he's what makes me feel like a million bucks when times are good. Even though he has several issues of his own (besides being a married man who cheats) I still have a hard time looking past that and seeing other guys for who they are, or may become over time.

When I started dating my ex many moons ago, I was not immediately in love with him. He was fun, and funny and could hold a conversation even though he couldn't retain said conversation worth shit! As we hung out more I could feel myself falling for him. I know that is the natural progression of things, and yet now...I can't seem to get through that second date without wanting to run for the hills.

I wonder if I am actually ready for a relationship or if I'm just dating to date because society tells me that every woman should have a man? I wonder if I continue to have this relationship with someone who in unattainable because I know subconsciencely that I don't have to worry about being his girlfriend and all the stress that comes from that. It's like I'm attached...but not. I still have someone asking me how my day was and being attentive to my physical needs, yet not have to ask permission or justify the time I spend with my friends. Unfortunately, the catch 22 is that I do want someone to spend holidays with, bring home to meet mom and spend my nights with.

Thinking about all of this is quite frustrating and eye opening. I don't really like that person that I seem to have become. That girl who is easily satisfied with having a long term affair. That girl who lies to herself that it's totally OK - because it's not. I want and deserve more, but I'm not letting myself have it.

Sigh.

The biggest ASSHOLE move I've ever experienced

2011-08-28T07:14:00.000-07:00

If you go out with a guy, have a great time, make out with him in his car in the parking lot and accidently leave your necklace in said car...don't be surprised that when you ask him to send it to you (after not hearing from him since that night), that a postcard arrives from the United States Postal Service telling you they have your envelope and need $1.14.

SERIOUSLY DUDE?!

You couldn't pick up the dollar and change postage?

I so need the interwebs to help me with a response to send to him.

Is a free meal worth the price of a bad date?

2011-08-18T10:02:00.000-07:00

Causal dating, in general, makes me feel like a whore. (And the fact that this subject is coming after my last post of true whore-like behavior says something.)

Yesterday, I was challenged to "be spontaneous" and meet some guy who was flirting with me all day, out for dinner and drinks at the restaurant of my choice. He had all the warning signs of being a bad date - no profile picture, an out of the area hometown, the fact that he listed his relationship status as separated and is not looking for a relationship of any kind with an intention to hang out. Basically, the dude is looking to get laid.  His replies to my basic questions gave me douche chills, in a very bad way, and I was just about to block him from my life forever when...

...my stomach growled.

Yep, you heard that right.

My decision to go on this date was purely based on wanting to eat on someone else's dime.  Yes, I am using random guys for dinner and beer.

It pulls at my insides a little that women can get away with such bullshit and men (usually) can't.  Truth of the matter is, I feel like a total whore without the sex (unless he's hot, and I'm unusually horny, my place is clean and my legs are shaved. Hey...it's been known to happen once, or twice - and couple other times, which I haven't written about - with mixed results).

Does it make it any better that I will always pick a pub that has cheap, but tasty, food and drink? How about the fact that I will do my best to not only enjoy myself, but make sure that the guy is laughing and feeling comfortable as well? How about the fact that I do keep an open mind and will accept another date, if the guy exceeds my relatively low expectation that I have of him - because you never know where the love lightening will strike? Or that I almost always offer to split the bill, unless the guy is a total asshat - which in that case...the $20 you just spent on me was totally earned. How about that I always offer up a very genuine "thank you" and close contact hug at our parting, if I don't take him home and hump his brains out?

I also happen to wonder when the act of getting to know someone over food and drink became an invitation, or expectation, for sex? Should I really feel badly that someone is shelling out $20 bucks to spend time with me?! He has to eat too!!! I'm doing him a favor, so he doesn't have to dine alone! (And, maybe cockblocking him from someone who will fuck a tard on the first date.) And really...if I am going to allow that - you better believe I would be ordering the filet mignon and not a burger!

Last night's date wasn't horrible. He did make me laugh, but there was no physical attraction. I was upfront and did tell him that he wouldn't be getting in my pants - which did make him chuckle and admit that the thought had entered his mind from the moment that we started chatting via email. At the end of the date, he told me that he would text me the next time he was in town. I gently reminded him that I didn't give him my number, so he'd have to continue to use the dating site to contact me. We hugged, I gave him a quick peck on the cheek, thanked him for dinner and we went our separate ways.

1+2=3

2011-08-11T14:19:00.000-07:00

I was a willing participant in something I thought I would never do. Like, never in a gazillion years NEVER. I was the lady in an all-man sandwich.

Several months ago the opportunity presented itself in a very strange and freaky way, which I didn't see coming, or did I appreciate at the time. It was so ridiculous that I can laugh about it now, thank goodness. I met up with this guy at his place for some Chinese and a movie. Long story short - at some point in the night, this dude's cousin came over. We moved into the bedroom and while he was giving it to me from behind I looked up and the cousin was standing in the doorway, dick-in-hand and pants on the floor. I screamed, covered myself up and told the cousin to get out. Naturally, I did what any horny girl would do - made sure the door was locked and continued playing. (Thinking back on it now, I should've checked the closet too. I bet you money that someone was hiding in there...crazy exhibitionist that this guy was.)

So the other night, I get a booty text from the Cub. "Whoo-hoo! I'm totally going to have sex with the Cub again!" Now, I have not heard from that boy in months, even though I think of him and his ginormous penis nightly. He asked me to meet him at his friend's place, where we would then go and get some drinks and then I would take him home and use him all night long. He obviously didn't get the memo that I hatched in my head.

And ultimately, I got his memo about 10 minutes after entering his buddy's place - who just happened to be Mr. Wingman himself from our first date.

I think I got about 30 texts on the ride over to his buddy's place. "How long till you get here?" "I can't wait to see you again." "Are you here yet?" When I arrived, my Cub was waiting for me at the door as excited as a kid at Christmas. I was going to hug him hello, but he beat me to the punch by planting the nicest kiss on my mouth, which totally took my breath away, then proceeded to pick me up, throw me over his shoulder and carried me up the stairs, with my ass hanging out of my dress! I collected myself and sat down in a chair between the couch that the Cub ended up on and another couch that the Wingman was sprawled out on.

It's funny how things evolve. We sat there talking for a couple of minutes when the Cub motioned for me to sit next on his lap.  When I got up, so did the Wingman and it went in a crazy direction from there. I suddenly had two hot guy's hands all over my body, my dress was up and over in my head in about 3 seconds flat.  Standing there in my underthings in front of two hard bodies was very intimidating, and if had not been dark in that apartment I probably would've burst out crying.

There were rules: condoms must be used, no anal play AT ALL, and nothing too rough.

As sexy as I imagined a 3-some would be, in reality, it wasn't. It was awkward, weird and uncomfortable. Handling two penises is hard. (Pardon the pun.)  I tried not to show favoritism, but when you have an incredible freak of nature in one hand, and a limp sausage in the other - this homegirl will throw the limp sausage aside!  I don't blame the Wingman for not being able to get it up at first, I mean...there's another dude in your bed, you can see what he's packing and it doesn't compare to yours, plus you're kind of forced to touch his leg or arm from time to time as bodies adjusted. I could tell that he was a total homophobe, but even so, I wasn't going to take him by the hand and show him the ropes!

Things that happened that I was not too thrilled about:
1. Sweat dripping on me from two guys. I seriously wanted to vomit at one point.
2. I did get it in the ass..."accidentally," by the Cub.
3. I yelled and screamed and ran to the bathroom.
4. I left my favorite bra behind.

One thing that I think was a totally awesome playa move on my part, I managed to sneak out while they were both asleep. As the filling between the bread, I had to carefully slide myself down the bed without waking the two guys, grab my stuff that was scattered all over the freakin place and get out - all in the dark in a place I was unfamiliar with. I'm happy to say that it was a success...but the real success came in knowing that I left two naked guys in a bed together!

The following text pretty much sums up the whole experience, with what my girlfriends have to say about 3-somes:

Me: I had a 3-some.
Friend: It's about time.
Me: LOL. It was super awkward.
Friend: With who?
Me: The Cub and his friend.
Friend: 2 dicks?! It's much sexier when it's 2 women!

Hands are important to me

2011-07-16T15:04:00.000-07:00

I am astonished at the variety of different types of hands there are on this planet. Weird, right? Well, looking back into my dating vault, I've rejected a couple of dates based on the size and shape of their hands and digits.

Shallow, much?

Well...yes. But, how are you supposed to envision yourself being romantic with someone if the thought of their minuscule hands being on your body makes you want to vomit? You can't. It's impossible. This may rank up there as being as ridiculous as the guy who detests public hair, it's one of my personal deal breakers. You can't have chick hands, and you must have all of your fingers. Period.

So, it's interesting and funny in a non-haha way (at the time) that I have gone on dates with guys who have had chick hands, and didn't have all their fingers.

A man's hands should be strong. They should hold a firm hand shake. They should be bigger than mine. A callus or two certainly doesn't hurt in my book, but you know, please keep them from scraping the floor when you stand upright. They should not be moisturized or manicured or any of that shit!

I went out with a dude that was incredibly good looking, in a very rugged way. We met for dinner at a local pub, and it didn't matter that he was employed, smart and put together - his hands were the size of the guy in the BK Jr. Whopper commercial! Not only were they tiny, but his fingernails were practically non-existent. I almost thought that they were a transplant, but he was wearing short sleeves and had no scars to confirm otherwise. (You bet your ass I checked.) He had to pick up his half-sandwich panini with two hands. Suddenly, his charm and wit were lost on me.

Do these make you horny?

I met up with a guy for happy hour and 10 cent chicken wings. Yes, it was a cheap date - but I'm not a gold digger that's all about the benjamins! I was actually looking forward to being casual and messy and ultimately being silly in front of a guy when inevitable he'd tell me that I somehow had hot sauce smeared across my forehead. (How does that happen?! I use napkins!)

We ordered a couple of beers and talked for a bit before our wings arrived, hot and fresh from the fryer. I ate two before I saw this guy licking wing sauce off his HALF A THUMB! Gross man. Don't you think if you had half a thumb, you might prepare your date - either with a kick ass story about how it happened, or some kind of pre-meeting explanation? I know I certainly wouldn't sit there licking it over and over, like it was some kind of baby penis you were giving head to. Of course, the thumb licker was also a douchebag, so throwing $10 bucks on the table to cover my $4 bill was incredibly generous of me...when I decided to get the fucking hell out of there with an excuse of having to feed my dog.

I hate that I now have to add "Take a look at your hands...do they belong on your arms?" as one of the pre-screening questions I have to ask potential suitors, along with "Are you married?" and "Do you have a criminal record?"

So, yeah...I did jinx myself (*hmmm...maybe not)

2011-06-29T08:02:00.000-07:00

(The first of this post was written on 6/20 and I shelved it because I've been so busy. Since last night, there have been some new developments, so I decided to pick up where I left off and make this some kind of running commentary, which I'm sure will end as all the others have - badly.)

The guy who I thought was so great? Kind of a douchebag. Of course, not the initial impression he gave me or the last he tried to leave me with, but a complete self-centered douche just the same.

The message I received via text: "I like certain things and I want to meet someone who shares the same so I don't have to ask or change anything they don't want to. I'm just looking for my perfect match."

My GOODNESS Miz Adventures! Did you punch a baby in his presence? Kick a puppy? What in the world is he talking about?

Pubes.

A red flag was raised after our initial meeting when the topic of public hair came up, which I noted on here. Let's not discuss how slightly inappropriate such conversation is on the first date because I think I was the one who inquired about his body hair - though, in my defense it was centered around the chest and not the nether-regions.

It is true that I love guys to be natural. Shaved balls aren't my thing. In my humble opinion, the only place on a guy where there should be stubble, is on their face. However, after saying that, I have never turned my nose up in the heat of the moment when seeing a completely bare-down-there guy. I get that even if it's not my thing, it might be there's. Some guys (falsely) believe that they look bigger if they're shaved. I've heard others say that sex feels better and is more sanitary - but really, sex isn't supposed to be sanitary...it's supposed to be messy and uninhibited and fun. I don't really need the excuses or justifications from the male species. If you prefer it, you prefer it...case closed. However, if you're going to use my own personal hair style as a way to end something, it's probably best that happen up front, because I don't want to waste my time on you...better yet, I'll make it easy for you. You're a superficial douche.

Disclaimer for my actual real-life friends...you may want to skip down a paragraph or you will read all about my private parts. Starting NOW...I sport a small triangle on top, and no hair anywhere else. My triangle is probably an inch wide and is trimmed pretty close so that it's actually just a shadow. I've been bare before and for some reason each time I became so self conscience that I couldn't relax and enjoy myself. My triangle makes me feel like a fucking sexy woman and for some reason gives me an extreme amount of confidence.

However, that being said - if I found the right guy, and he asked me to take it all off, I would. It's not a fight worth fighting. I'm a pleaser and I would do just about anything to make my man happy, as I'm sure he would do to return the favor to me. But, I'm not going to jump the gun and change myself for someone who just wants a bare girl.

Just for shits and giggles, I emailed Claudy, a man who's dating blog I enjoy because I wanted a male perspective, other than the Pube-Nazi's. His response? "To me one of the key philosophies in life is the freedom of the individual and their right to self-government. And I can't really think of anything more private and sacrosanct than your body, especially the private parts. That's why they're called PRIVATE PARTS! :D Showing them and sharing them with someone should be seen as a huge privilege and honour by the other person. So you can probably guess how I see demands made by other people involving your private parts. I think if a person makes implicit demands about them, it just shows how shallow they are."

Well said, case closed in my book. And, for the record - the Pube-Nazi never even saw my lower private parts, although I did see his. *wink, wink*

"I hope you find her." My simple, slightly passive-aggressive response to which there was no reply back from him.

I did say case closed, right? Well, like about 95% of the men I have met on-line, he came back. Men (and women - I'm guilty of this myself) are always looking for someone better, especially when there's such a large sea of people to fish for. Don't get me wrong, it's quite an ego booster to know that yeah...you had me at hello for the most part, and fucked it up. I'm a special kind of woman because I'm normal and not a psycho. Sometimes, I ignore the little messages telling me how great, beautiful, normal, funny, etc. they think I am - because, let's face it, most don't even know me well enough to say anything deeper. Sometimes, I play into it. Like last night, around midnight.

Him: "Hey beautiful, I like the new picture. You are so smart and pretty. I'm sure you're doing quite OK in the men department. I really wanted you that last night we were together."

Me: "Oh really? Your last text message didn't indicate that."

Him: "Can we try again?"

I'm super physically attracted to this guy. Like, thinking about him makes my heart beat faster and causes me to have to change my panties, even though I now know he's a total douchebag. I want to sleep with him. There, I said it. And, the thing is...I kind of only want to sleep with him because I know I don't want any kind of relationship with him. I just want to give him a great night of mind-blowing sex, then leave while he's sleeping and have that be his last memory of me.

Yes, I've gone all black widow.

Stay tuned.

Where have you been?

2011-06-16T08:24:00.000-07:00

I know that I will absolutely jinx myself by typing it out loud, but I met a boy I like.

Superficially speaking, he has all of the requirements I'm looking for in a mate. He's tall (6'3''), has all his hair, a gorgeous smile, arms for days, a hairy chest (yay!) and made me laugh with his quick wit and humor. Plus, he works with his hands, drives a pick up truck, is father to a couple of dogs, close to my age, never married and has zero children. He's also taken by me and told me so, both in person and via text - although I wonder if he really is, or if he just wants to get into my pants.

He is the kind of guy that I feel like a million bucks standing next to, because he is so darn good looking. He's also the kind of guy that I would totally want to flaunt to my friends. (That sounds horrible - but I just think back to this guy and how uncomfortable I was even thinking about that.) I personally feel that we are a decent match.

Our make-out session, which happened back at his place, was tender and exciting. He's a great kisser, and although I did allow his hands to wander a little bit, we both kept our underthings on and pulled up. (I had to hold myself back!) I could feel what he was packing and I know I will be quite happy with it.

There are some red flags though - and please...if anyone thinks I am being retarded, just say so!

His name reminds me of someone I HATE with a passion.
He is in the same kind of work as my ex - which led to a lot of frustration over long, strange hours and unfinished projects.
He likes women who sport a very "clean" hairstyle in a very private place.

I'm seeing him again this weekend and am hoping to pick up where we left off - both in conversation and exploring our naughtier side.

Can we just date via text message?

2011-06-06T09:24:00.000-07:00

It always amazes me how incredibly wrong I can be about someone. Take Friday's date for instance. This guy was everything I wanted on paper - tall, intelligent, funny, athletic, gentlemanly and good looking...a country boy from South Carolina, recently transplanted in my town for work. Our texting relationship was filled with funny antidotes that would made me giggle and yearn for more.

And, then I met him.

I received a follow up email on Sunday afternoon. He wanted to let me know that he had a lot of fun (HUH?) and asked me if I'd like to go on another date this Friday (WHAT?!).

My firm, no-nonsense reply - something I'm getting quite good at - and some insight on what happened to turn me off to this person so completely:

I'm actually kind of surprised to hear from you.

I'm going to be honest, because I feel like you deserve that. I was really looking forward to meeting you. You seemed like a really nice, intelligent and fun guy. I was disappointed in the 'date.' I guess I expected that for a couple of hours I would have your attention so we could get to know each other. You didn't offer much up, was drunk before I even go there, and I felt like I was talking to myself because you were constantly playing with your phone and destroying the table.

I thought it was weird that 3 of your buddies came out...but even weirder yet when I came back from dropping my food off at my car and using the bathroom that everyone had a drink and you failed to order one for me. It was nice that everyone who showed up was nice and included me in the conversation, because you payed absolutely no attention to me otherwise. The deal breaker was when you very loudly said 'whoa...nice boobs' when another girl walked out if the bathroom in front of us, so you obviously didn't take the date too seriously.

I thank you for dinner, but I don't think we would make a good match.

(Insert a heavy dose of sarcasm.) Doesn't that date sound absolutely amazing?! Can I just explain that I was so excited about this date that I got home from work, showered and changed outfits about 20 times? I wanted to make a great first impression. Silly Miz Adventures!

He responded by apologizing for being a prick. (His word, not mine, although it does fit nicely.)

No, I realize I was a prick. I really am sorry about that. To be honest, we're probably just at two different places. I have a lot of growing up to do and it's been a slow process. Again, I'm sorry and I do want you to know that I think you're a really smart, funny and attractive young lady. Someone will be very lucky to snag you as their own.

Do I feel bad after a lovely and well deserved apology? No. He was a total prick from the get-go. A complete 180 from the person I was getting to know via text/email, whom I really, really liked. It's a shame really because you wonder what the true personality is.

Miz A isn't following her rules too well...

2011-06-02T09:37:00.000-07:00

You know Rule #3, Quality over Quantity? Yeah well, since I'm having a hard time finding Quality, I might as well pursue Quantity. After all, maybe internet dating plays by the 10% rule - - out of every 10 dates, only 1 will be good. That seems so sad.

I have a full weekend booked, starting today:

Thursday - outdoor free concert, followed by drinks at a local pub with a guy I met last week at the dog park. He's too young and short for me, and he already told me that he doesn't like sex - so this is a courtesy date, because sex is too important for me to give up and I'm too old to be a teacher. Ha!

Friday - dinner and drinks at a local brewery with a guy that I'm very interested in meeting. I'm definitely getting the "fun" vibe from him, especially when he recounted his tales of his Memorial Day Weekend. If I know myself like I think I do, I will probably arrive with great expectations and be disappointed. The only thing that I will be keen on, is that I've met several people at this particular hot spot and the last time I was on a blind date there, a guy I had previously met was also sitting at the bar, staring. Awkward!!!!

Saturday - movies with the Pilot, a man which I have yet to blog about. That's forthcoming.

Sunday - destination and activity yet to be determined with a bodybuilder who also goes to my gym and often does cardio on the treadmills right by the yoga room so I can see his face in the mirror. I'm hoping this second date will be less of an interview, like the first one was. He's totally my type though - tall, dark and handsome with a killer body and NO KIDS or ex wives. I may also try to fit an afternoon date in on Sunday as well, because you know...go big or go home.

"Miz A, you are a playa!" ~ my sister

Yes. Yes, I am...but not by the Urban Dictionary, whose definition says "A male who uses women for sex or other favors usually by charming the girl till they fall in love with them. A lot of guys do this in order to be a "playa" cuz in our modern society it is (by idiotic dickheads) "cool" and "hip" to be labeled as a "playa". A female version of this would be slut." Wait? What?!

It's funny that I am playing the field as much as any guy out there, and I am labeled a slut, because I don't have a penis (that you know of! LOL). It's true that I have had a couple of one-night stands...but it's also true that I have held my vagina in high regard and have tried to find someone worthy of it's greatness. It sickens me that sexual labels are handed out like candy and often times, it's the women who a given a demeaning name. Labelers need to grow up and realize that women are sexual beings who should not be thumbed down!

However, that being said, I totally rejected someone based on their sexual background...or rather, the sexual background that he admitted to me...after I joked that I would go out with him for "research". Which included a stint as a Chippendale dancer. Naturally, because I've seen quite a bit of porn, my first question after that reveal was "So, have you ever had sex at a party in front of everyone?" The answer was a YES - in capitals. With an explanation about how exciting it was, followed by a picture of his cock (which wasn't that impressive) and an explicit proposition. I'm pretty sure that he probably has a video of himself somewhere on the internet, and who knows, I may have seen it. Too forward, too creepy, too dangerous for me.

Being stood up, revisited

2011-05-31T07:45:00.000-07:00

Since things aren't working out with the Cub, and the Forehead Kisser got offered a job in Atlanta and will be packing up and leaving town in as little as two weeks, I decided that Memorial Day weekend would be FILLED with many first dates...and so it was. But I digress, because there is one incident that I couldn't wait to blog about.

I got a message that literally made my blood start to boil. Remember this guy? The asshole that stood me up to my face? He came out of the woodwork this weekend.

Him: What's new with you?

(Pause, pause, pause. Here is the internal struggle with answering this email. Men are idiots. Did this guy accidentally contact me because he didn't recognize my new picture, or because he's offering an olive branch, or because him standing me up didn't even make a blip on his radar? Hmmmm...)

Me: Are you kidding me?

You stood me up...to my face when we had plans to meet for the Syracuse vs. UConn game. Remember? You were sitting at the bar, wearing an Orange sweater, I walked in with a black coat on, you have me a look of disgust, shook your head and turned your back.

I don't know what's worse, the fact that you're less of a man, and cheap to boot, and couldn't buy me a $5 beer (which I bought for myself because I wasn't going to walk into a bar and walk back out), or that you texted me saying you were on your way AFTER you rejected me making me believe that I was some kind of
blind, dumb idiot. And please don't try to say it wasn't you...not only were you easy to pick out of a crowd, but I heard someone call you by your name.

That's some kind of game you have there. Honestly, if you didn't find me physically attractive, you should've just sucked it up, bought me a beer and said that you didn't feel we were a match. It happens, and its a lot easier to swallow than what you pulled, which really hurt my feelings.

Him: I honestly didn't go to the bar that night....I would tell you if I did....I had several bad dates off here and figured when we were going to meet it was going to be another one....but that really wasn't me...I'm sorry for standing you up...

Me: I wish I was born yesterday, so I believed you. Regardless, you wasted my time and made me feel worthless. Just for the record, I'm not a bad date. I'm fun, sometimes silly and an excellent conversationalist. I
could have a good time with a rock. But that's ok...after I finished the beer I bought for myself, I went home, put on the sexist dress in my closet - the one that shows off my cleavage - and headed out to the fundraiser that I was going to skip to go out with you. It ended up being a good night.

Him: lol....your attitude is priceless....look you seemed like a cool chick...I'm sorry I stood you up...we are both still on here so maybe we should try again? how about I make it up to you and take you for a ride on my Harley today?

Me: Thank you, but no thanks. You have yourself a good holiday weekend.

Him: I won't stand you up.....are you afraid to ride on the Harley? Please? I'd really like to meet you.

Him: Just give me a second chance.

(Repeat 4 more times with the same kind of plea.)

I think that someone's bad karma is catching up with them and that makes me giddy with happiness. (Which is probably bad karma for me.) I would love to know WHY he contacted me again and why he thought I would jump at the chance to put my life in the hands of a stranger.

Mr. Could-You-Be-More-Wrong?

2011-05-24T13:13:00.000-07:00

So, there's this really cute guy that just moved to the area.

He can't drive in a neighboring State until 2015 because he got a DWI.

And, he was a Chippendale's dancer.

I'm going to take one for the team and go on a date with this guy this weekend because I just know there's going to be a great blog post out of it. It's research. You can thank me later.

G-O-O-G-L-E

2011-05-23T10:27:00.000-07:00

"Research me, you'll find me...click those keys and google me."

I've been googled! I must say, it is very unsettling to go out on a date with someone and have them bring up things you know you haven't shared with them because they googled your name, or found your profile on Facebook.

Now, don't get me wrong - I've googled many a first date. But, I don't get all stalker'ish and bring up any of my findings or pretend that I know them as well as I know my best friend because I saw some college pictures of them in a random newspaper story on-line! What made it even creepier is that this particular person found another blog I write, went through the entire thing (I started it in 2007) and gave me a handwritten page of grammatical, spelling and punctuation corrections that he said he "noticed." I've never felt the need to bounce out of a bar so quickly -- and I might actually have to give up that bar now because he revealed that he frequents the place often and has actually seen me on dates.

That sucks.

I wonder what kind of upbringing someone experienced to be such a weirdo? Although I didn't ask...I'd put money on the fact that this guy probably lives in his mother's basement and kills cats.

Did he just kiss my forehead?!

2011-05-19T10:16:00.000-07:00

Let me preface this blog post with the statement, I am not in an exclusive relationship. I date. I sometimes sleep with guys (a girl has needs) and have fun, while playing the field. Should the moment come along where I meet a special guy that I actually want to be solely with, I will stop being "single." (Believe me, I'm scared shitless about this - but that's an entirely different blog post for a later time.)

I've been seeing this guy for several months now - in between dates with the Cub, which incidentally have grown more infrequent as time progresses. This guy is nice. He's tall, good looking, has a great job, is intelligent, has a wonderful sense of humor and treats me like a goddess. Besides all of that, he never lets me pay for anything - an act that I have tried several times because I don't feel like the man should always open their wallets. We actually have fairly decent chemistry, in and out of the bedroom. He strives to make me laugh, which honestly isn't hard, but he has this little smile that he does when he knows I'm looking at him that cracks me up every single time. However, if you've been reading this blog you know that there must be something wrong with him because that's the kind of luck I have...so what is wrong with him, you say? Well, a couple of things...

He has a significant limp. At 19 he twisted his ankle while playing basketball and while in the emergency room additional tests were performed on his leg due to a numbing feeling that proceeded this injury. The numbness was a result of a cancerous tumor that had wrapped around his spinal cord, probably for years prior. He went into surgery immediately, but the doctors were unable to remove all of the tumor due to it's positioning. If they had, he would be a paralyzed from the neck down. They took what they could, and every five years or so he must have the same surgery to remove more of the growth. The result is a semi-paralyzed leg and a limp. It's a really sad, unfortunate story, and honestly, it makes me tear up to know that he was once this athlete that now can't even climb stairs easily.

He's also not local. His house is in Georgia (Southern Gentleman!) and he has been living out of a hotel room for over half a year while working on this particular long-term contract. He travels for work a lot. He's usually gone 4 out of 10 days. Due to this, he's not looking for a serious relationship, just dating and fun times, which he's been upfront and honest about from the beginning. His contract for this particular job may be ending soon and he'll be once again temporarily relocated to another part of the country. So, I understand him wanting to keep things light. In the same token, I do see him a couple of times a week, and am getting to know him pretty well...trying to keep *my* feelings in check is a little tougher because I do genuinely like him.

We went out to dinner a couple of weeks ago to this rustic steak house, because I had mentioned in passing that I was craving red meat. He went all out - much to my waistline's chagrin. Appetizers, salad course, entree, dessert and a couple of bottles of wine to wash it down with. During that dinner, I was able to peel away some of the layers that he was keeping. His family is very well off to the point where it's ridiculous, starting with his grandparents who owned a company out of Boston. His father was a high profile military guy before retiring and his parents live out in Orange County, California. I couldn't stop laughing when he explained that his grandmother is a modern day Mr. T because she likes to wear every single piece of gold jewelery that she owns. He's never flaunted any of this, which makes me even more impressed with him.

Of all the sports he played, he misses golf the most. He was once a really good competitive golf player, which earned him a full college scholarship - which after his accident, he had to give up. He's a provider in the sense where he would rather his future wife stayed home to raise his children, or worked only to satisfy her desire to stay satisfied, instead of working to pay the bills. This dynamic is a bit of a tradition in his family centering on the values he had been brought up with. He also claimed to "not be good" with women, which I think is also a by-product of the limp.

It's hard to get past these issues, not that I'm at that point anyway, but it's hard not to think about, especially when he gives mixed signals from time to time. Like, the other night we were hanging out in his hotel room watching TV. I had my head resting on his thigh, he was rubbing my back and I must have fallen asleep for a split second. In that in-between state of snoozing and knowing, I felt his thumb brush my cheek and he kissed me on the forehead. It was gentle and confusing and I found myself questioning if he was starting to feel something for me.

Later that same night, a commercial came on that showcased a cul-de-sac neighborhood and he asked "Can you ever imagine yourself living there?" I wondered if he remembered that he told me his house in Georgia was on a cul-de-sac.

There has got to be a guy out in cyberland who can explain what this means, if anything!

My gut tells me that for all of the "I don't want to be in a relationship" proclamations, he does. And, I think he might want to with me. Yesterday he sent me a text telling me that he thinks I'm simply amazing because I don't mold myself to be anything other than me. This scares me almost as much as the thought of a spider landing on my face does. I want a relationship, I really do...but I also like being single and not having to answer to anyone except myself. There's no pressure to spend the night with anyone, or answer their phone calls at the drop of a hat, or plan your weekends around their availability. I'm afraid of losing my identity.

What makes it even harder if that I'm a tad bit superficial. The limp is keeping me from even talking about him to my friends. I'm totally hiding him, and that's horrible. I'm a horrible person! It's not that I'm embarrassed to be seen with him or anything, quite the contrary. But, I don't want to shove him into a position where he has to explain himself and I don't want to be the one saying "listen...don't make fun of this guy because he limps. No Forrest Gump references!" (Because as soon as you mention something like that, it's the first thing on everyone's mind.) He's also limited in what he can do physically. No walks, no parks, no fairs, no hiking - all things I like to do, and do with someone special are swiped off the table completely.

I'm not closing the book by any means. Listen, time is all we have, so I plan to just ride the wave and see what happens. His job could be over in two weeks...or go another year. He could be dating someone else as well. He could feel my fear of commitment and decide that it's not worth it. Whatever the case, someday, one happy woman will have this man all to herself and thank her lucky stars because he is just that kind of guy, underneath the issues that I can't help but see in him.

Good Lord

2011-04-22T08:37:00.000-07:00

"I-I-I-I-I-Iiiiii'm a saaaaaa-lesman for a lo, lo, local technical c-c-c-c-ompany, like that. I have a, a, a, a, a, nephew, like that. He's four, like that. I'dddddd li-li-like kids some d-d-d-daaaaaay, like that."

Date night...with a stutterer who also has a weird verbal tick.

Seriously? Do I even have to type the whole experience out? You get it, right? One of the hardest first (and only) dates I have ever been on.

The Cougar vs. the Cub, Part II

2011-04-18T13:25:00.000-07:00

I spent Sunday afternoon doing one of my (new) favorite things - watching a live sporting event. Now, most probably wouldn't call flag football an event, but when you are watching your cub take control on the field and you start to feel your insides get all mushy when he smiles and waves from the sidelines, you kinda start to think of it as an event.

There is something about the way an athlete carries himself...his center of gravity, the way his feet are so sure on the ground, the gentle sway of his hips and shoulders and where to put his hands - it all exudes this sure-of-self demeanour that for the life of me, I really can't even explain without getting all giggly. I've never really paid attention to the confidence in the way an athlete moves, until now. Funny thing is, I only noticed it when my cub ran to the woods to take a leak! How can something that I've never noticed until now, turn me on so much about this person? It's so strange.

There's a certain feeling of pride and scariness about watching someone in their element. I was able to tell in very short notice that the cub is very respected on his team, both with the players and the coaches. He had his teammate's backs on the field and off - - and when the referee started to make some bogus calls, it was the cub who chilled the team out and got them re-focused. You can just tell when someone loves what they are doing - and sports is this guy's thing. I asked him later that night what sport he absolutely refuses to watch, and he replied with "soccer." A true American! The scary part comes when I start thinking about if I'm good enough to be with this person. I'm not the girl who can be the trophy on someones arm...I just don't have that kind of face or body. All throughout the game I found myself wondering if the cub was going to come over to me afterward, or if he would keep me hidden away - not speak to me until we were alone. I don't know why I thought this, since we have been out a couple of times...IN PUBLIC...and he's made no intent to make people think he wasn't with me. It's that whole non-athlete self-doubt coming into play! And, sure enough, after the last minutes of the clock counted down, and his team lost by 1 point, he jogged over to my seat on the bleachers, leaned in front of me and gave me the sweetest kiss, smudging a bit of mud on my nose in the process. He proceeded to tell me that I looked nice (I was in yoga gear) and that he had to shower or he would totally stink me out.

Dare I say this...but he seems to kinda like me.

In about 10 minutes, we were sitting in his car staring at each other, trying to figure out where we could go that was private for a little make out session. :) The cub had a family event in the same town an hour later and going back to my place wouldn't work since it's a 35 minute trip one way. It was way too nice of a day for the park, which was teaming with all kinds of weirdos, so jokingly I threw out the idea of the cemetery. I swear I was joking! At first. Then, I kind of melted into the idea - you know, besides being completely disrespectful to the dead and all. If I start to feel haunted, I'll know that it was a bad idea!

The cub parked the car in the back of the lot and we both climbed into the back seat in the most hurried fashion I've ever seen. The cub at least got out of the car to get into the back, whereas I climbed right over the seat divider. Classy. We made out in the backseat, which progressed to more when we realized that the seats folded down all the way and the tinted windows would hide any exposed skin.

In about an hour, we both collapsed into each other and stayed that way until the cub realized that he was 30 minutes late for his family gathering! Ops. It was then, that he ran into the woods to pee and I came to my athlete epiphany while watching him from the car. I found myself smiling to the point that when he returned to the car, he asked me what was going on. All I could do was nod my head and internalize it.

I'm really attracted to this guy who is so many years my junior. It's totally lust - but there are nights when we talk for hours and I forget that he's only 23 and it scares me. I guess we shall wait to see how this all plays out....

The Cougar vs. The Cub

2011-04-11T10:04:00.000-07:00

To quote a friend, "young boys have their place in any good rotation."

I went out for drinks with a very young 23 year old last night. I am not anywhere close to the age of 23...in fact, if you invert the numbers and add a couple of years, then you've got my age. This boy was not only young and tall (6'3'') but incredibly handsome and had muscles for days - obviously an athlete.

Our date got off to a slightly awkward start when he asked his buddy to tag along. I was thinking "what the hell? This is not a tag team situation!" Luckily, there was no intention of that happening, but my young cub did admit that he felt more comfortable having a wingman in case I was a weirdo. Totally understandable. Can you imagine if I started showing up for dates with a posse in tow? That sounds like a little bit of awesome! Anyway, about 5 minutes into the date, it then became a game of "lose the wingman."

We were chatting it up, sitting entirely too close to each other, when I decided that I was going to offer up the first challenge of the night...I told my cub that there would be something very special in store for him if he could tie a cherry stem using only his mouth. (This trick also shows me if he will be useful in other areas too.) For someone who claims that he never tied a cherry stem before, he sure busted out a perfect knot awfully fast!


The something special came about an hour and a half later when the wingman left, our tab was paid and my cub went into the men's room before we departed to check out another local hangout. I very smoothly snuck in behind him, grabbed his hand and led him into the only bathroom stall. He pinned me against the wall and started to kiss me, grinding himself into my pelvis. I let my hands do a little traveling, then unbuckled his belt and...well, you know.

Here's the minor issue when getting frisky in the men's room - besides guys walking in and out constantly. Sometimes, to keep your balance, you accidentally steady yourself with your bare hand on the pee soaked toilet rim! So disgusting!!! Then, you have to keep that hand completely out of commission for the rest of the act which can be difficult, especially if you're dealing with what my cub was packin'! By far, the biggest penis I have ever experienced....not only lengthy, but incredibly girthy.

We darted out of the bathroom afterwards and headed over to another bar to play some darts. My cub was definitely in an affectionate state of mind the rest of the evening. There was inappropriate touching during the dart hand-off, stolen kisses right out in public viewing (I guess they weren't really "stolen" but describing them that way is terribly romantic) and the second challenge of the evening! To be honest, I can't remember what the challenge was - - but I do know that I won it and got to pick my own prize, which I collected on when we finally got to my place. ;) Yep...

I'm fairly sexually driven. My drive was nothing compared to that of my hunky 23 year old. What a fucking animal! No downtime for me at all, so I'm not only sore in all the right places, but I'm also a walking zombie with a serious case of beard burn all over my face! By the first light of daybreak, I graduated to being one of those girls who just lays there. I just couldn't move anymore. It didn't matter, if he wanted me somewhere, he just picked me up and plopped me down with absolutely no effort at all. My alarm clock didn't have to wake me...there was no sleeping last night. Not even a little snooze. However, the shower that I thought would re-energize me turned into another round when he surprised me by throwing open the curtain and hopping in. So, today at work, I look and feel spent. My hair is a mess because I did a half-assed shampoo job, I barely used soap, my legs and pits are hairy, I'm pretty sure that I didn't apply deodorant and it looks like to got dressed trying to keep someone's hands from ripping off my clothes - which I was. (Not to mention the aforementioned beard burn and sore girlie parts.)

Before walking out to our cars to return to the land of the well-rested, he pulled me to him and said "I will get to see you again, right?" Oh cubber, you will...if this old cougar can keep up, and only on a Friday or Saturday and NOT A WEEK NIGHT! I may need to start eating my Wheaties!

Congratulations UConn!!!

2011-04-05T11:13:00.000-07:00

I don't follow basketball. I was a cheerleader in high school but I have not watched a single basketball game since our season ended in senior year - and that includes both professional and college ball. This year I had a slight personal interest, coupled with the thought of sweet revenge.

I was stood up.

The plan was to meet at a local sports bar for a few drinks and watch the Syracuse vs. UConn game on the big screen. My date was a huge Syracuse fan, so chances are it would've been a bad time anyway, and I would have been left to entertain myself, but I digress, I have the ability to turn lemons into lemonade if there is some kind of sweetener present, which there wasn't. And, don't worry - my date didn't sacrifice and miss the game just to bow out of a date with me...he stood me up right to my fucking face. Way to take the high road.

Since the game was to start at 7pm, we decided to meet at 6:30 to order drinks and talk a little. I showed up promptly on time and spotted the guy as I walked in. We locked eyes, I smiled, he shook his head and turned away. Ouch. Now, for a split second I thought "maybe that's not him." So, I stood off to the side and sent a quick text telling him that I had arrived. He replied back immediately saying that he was on his way. Hmmm...

I walked over to the only spot available at the bar, which was unfortunately right next to the guy who I thought was my date. Pointing to the chair, I asked if that seat was taken. Flustered, he mumbled something that sounded like no, and proceeded to collect his jacket and drink, repositioning himself to the end of the bar - far away from me. LOL! It's funny because I didn't feel hurt or bad at any time during this entire encounter...in fact, I decided to fuck with him. I sat myself down, took off my coat, pulled my shirt down just a little to reveal some cleavage, ordered a Guinness pint and started flirting heavily with the guy sitting to the right of me. My new friend relayed the whole story to the bar tender, who immediately took out a couple of remotes and placed them on the bar top, in front of my flirting buddy. "I'm sure you're a good channel surfer. You should play with these come game time." She followed up that comment with a little wink in my direction. Awesome.

"Tonight will be fun" said my new friend. I could hardly suppress the evil laugh deep from my insides as I rubbed my hands together and raised an eyebrow.

I finished my beer, paid my $5.00 tab including tip, got my coat back on and walked out the door with my head held high, all before the game started. I did send a little text back saying, "You're an asshole. You look horrible in orange, and GO UCONN!"

So imagine my delight when later that night I found out that in UConn won against Syracuse in overtime, 76-71! I hope that bastard had money on the game! I really hope that my new channel-changer friend accepted his new mission with gusto and blocked out several key portions of the game. I'll never know. Check out the other *winning* stats from the game...LOL.

*The loss snaps a six-game winning streak for Syracuse.
*The loss snaps a four-game winning streak for Syracuse vs UConn in the Big East Tournament.
*Syracuse missed 5 of 6 field-goal attempts and went 1-for-4 at the free-throw line in overtime.
*Syracuse's 45 percent (5-11) free-throw shooting was its worst of the year.

And then, UConn went on to WIN IT ALL! I'm as happy as a clam, even though I could care less. :) Karma, you done good.

The Laughing Accountant

2011-04-01T11:09:00.000-07:00

Friend: "I never tell new people that I'm talking to that I'm an accountant."
Me: "Huh? Why? It's a good job."
Friend: "Oh, I know...but people think that all accountants are boring and I don't want to be stereotyped."
Me: "I think YOU are the only accountant I know that's an exception to the stereotype. I went out with an accountant once."
Friend: "Was he a tax accountant?"
Me: "Yeah."
Friend: "And how was it?"
Me: "So..."

...luckily, one of my best friends in the whole wide world "was in a situation" and "needed me to come over." You can subtract a couple of karma points on this one.

Let me back it up a little. When I started to date on-line, I used Craigslist.* I have absolutely no tolerance for stupid people who don't know the difference between there, their and they're, so when I saw an ad that was written in proper English, with proper punctuation I kinda got a little excited and reached out to this person. He was a small business tax accountant. We emailed for a bit making small talk until he finally asked me out on a date a couple of days later. I didn't expect him to bust out reservations to one of the fanciest places in town - and that is exactly what he did! To say that I was impressed was an understatement. Maybe I ended up roping the mother load!!!

It felt wonderful to dress up in nice clothes and killer heels in anticipation of a wonderful dinner prepared by one of the hottest chefs in town. I checked my coat and walked over to the bar, where I scanned all of the people in the room, looking for the man who would be my date for the evening. Who was sitting alone, looking at their phone waiting for me to respond to their last text? From my viewpoint, I had two available options...a nice looking gentleman in a business suit with a flashy tie and nicely polished shoes or a very plain, tall, dorky fella in need of haircut and an overall makeover. I can only hope that I did a sufficient job of hiding the look on my face when the giant dork caught my eye and waved. And so began my evening with the Accountant.

I have to say, it wasn't all that bad. He offered up his seat at the bar, like a true gentleman and flagged the bar tender over to take my drink order. Paid for my beverage. When our table was ready, he took out my seat and ordered a fantastic bottle of wine to go with dinner. The conversation was relaxed and easy, and then I made a joke. The laugh that came from the person sitting in front of me made me want to run for the high hills! I was not only loud, but had this quality of being high pitched, nasal'y and throat'y all at the same time. I was literally the kind of laugh that makes you cringe from the inside-out. I nervously chuckled, looked around the room to see that people's heads had actually turned and realized that this extreme laugh would take this guy down a long road of lonely unhappiness.

Laughing is like peeing. Once the seal is broken...

As the laughing Accountant grew more and more comfortable with me, the laugh grew louder and even more obnoxious to the point where I couldn't even look this guy in the face anymore! It didn't help that every single time I locked eyes with someone else in that room, they mouthed the words "Oh My God" to me! (OK - only one person actually did that, but still!) I even tried to approach the subject by mentioning that his laugh was very distinct and loud and that others in the restaurant were giving us looks - but dude didn't get the hint.

Dinner finally ended, after what seemed like hours, and I refused his offer to get a nightcap saying that I had to wake up early in the morning for work. He walked me to my car and of course, leaned in for a kiss. Playing defense, I moved a little to the left and offered up my cheek to his aggressive lips, then like Speedy Gonzalez, found my keys, hopped into my car and zoomed away!

Friend: "That date is no where near as bad as what you hinted it would be."
Me: "Yeah...I have no idea why, but I agreed to a second date."
Friend: "What?!"
Me: "I really have no explanation. Don't judge me."
Friend: "Too late."

A couple of days later, the laughing Accountant called my cell phone while I was walking out the door. I saw the first name, thought it was someone else - a very hot, single fireman that I had seen a month prior, and answered it with a very exuberant "Well hello there handsome!" I could practically hear the panting on the other end of the phone. Fuck. Excuses started entering in head in lightning speed. Family party, work function, death in the family, drinks with an old friend, gotta wash my hair...and I couldn't do it. He asked if I wanted to go to a hockey game and I said yes.

And you know what? I tried to make the most of it, I really did. I showed up on time and didn't run away when he went to go buy the tickets. (The thought did enter my mind, don't get me wrong.) He suggested that we pre-game at the local watering hole, and of course I was all about that. A little beer goes a long way. Women have beer goggles too! We go into the bar, sit down and order a drink when he drops a bomb on me...

"I can't wait to introduce you to my friends. They'll be here any minute."

What?! Wait!!! Back up and rewind.

This is a (sympathy) second date! You don't introduce anyone on a second date! And, then they arrived...a whole group of single nerds, minus one semi-decent looking guy. (I can't really be sure if he was actually semi-decent looking, because anyone who didn't look like they should wear a pocket protector would probably look hot next to this crowd.) It was that bad. Imagine my *surprise* when I found out that I would be the only girl in this group. Can you believe that none of these guys had a girlfriend? Yeah...me either. I also caught several of them looking at my boobs.

The introductions shed a lot of light on how the laughing Accountant thought of our relationship. "I'd like you guys to meet my girlfriend." Haha, not a chance buddy...right here, right now I am totally going to bust your bubble. "I'm not his girlfriend. We just met 3 days ago." I guess I was expecting a look of stunning realization, but it didn't happen. Oh my god...he thinks I'm his girlfriend. Oh my god...he's going to put his arm around me and try to kiss me in front of his friends. I drank my beer faster than I ever have in my entire life and luckily was able to get another one in a plastic cup to take with me into the arena for the game.

I wanted to get out of there so badly, I can't even explain it. Leaving before the game would look intentional - and even though I can be a big twat, I didn't want to hurt his feelings too much...I mean, the guy was nice and all. There had to be a way to let him down nicely. The whole nerd posse and I took our seats right in front of the glass in the arena. I was flanked between the semi-decent looking nerd and the laughing Accountant and kind of ended up positioning myself so that I was leaning towards the semi-decent looking nerd. Lucky for me, the laughing Accountant noticed that I was out of beer again (sometimes I think I may have a drinking problem), and jumped up to get me a refill. Um...thanks. At this rate, I'll be wasted by the end of the first period. I took that opportunity to think about my get-a-way plan and to flirt a little with the semi-decent nerd, who admitted that he hated hockey and was dragged to the game so that he could meet the laughing Accountant's new girlfriend. Seriously. That pretty much solidified the need for an escape plan...and the need was urgent.

The first period of the game was horrible. Not only did the laughing Accountant, well...laugh, but he was obviously not a hockey fan (or probably sports fan in general) and kept trying to chat it up with me, and because my head was turned trying to follow the action, he felt the need to get very close. And, that's when I smelled his breath, which was previously masked with distance. The smell was so bad that it made me gag twice. And for those who know me, know that I have a horrible gag reflex. I worked very hard not to toss my cookies and should actually get an award for that! I finally had to make a joke about wanting to watch the game and that we could commence such chatter during intermission, if I made it that long.

My mind was racing...who can I send to the hospital for the night? Will karma bite my ass hard for this? Do I care? I mean, I'm trying to get out of this date without being so in his face about it so that his friends don't think that he's a big(ger) loser than them. That makes me nice, right? Yes...that's what we're going with. In the end, I decided that no one would be taking a fake trip to the hospital, but that I would be getting a very urgent call of help from one of my best friends. At the end of the first intermission, when the laughing Accountant excused himself to go to the restroom, I texted my friend and told her to call me in about 5 minutes because I needed a rescue. As perfect as timing could be, my phone rang just as he returned to our seats.

Me: "Are you OK?"
Rescuer: "Yeah."
Me: "Oh no! I'm on a date. But don't worry...no...I'll pick you up. Are you sure you're alright though?"
Rescuer: "He's that bad?"
Me: "I'm leaving now and will be there in a couple of minutes. Hang tight."
Rescuer: "You're going to hell."

There was no need for a prolonged explanation...he heard that I had a friend in trouble. He was very concerned - more so than I thought he would be - and offered to walk me to my car. I calmed him down (ha!) and told him to enjoy the rest of the game and that we would be in touch.** With a new-found stride in my step, I practically skipped up the stairs of the arena a free girl again!

Me: "I'm still coming over, you know."
Rescuer: "I've already opened up a bottle of wine for us."

*Admittedly, Craigslist is creepy. I started using it when I was apartment shopping, and then I discovered the underbelly of gay penis. I can't believe that men post their junk on an internet site that is open to everyone and their mother, and the pictures includes their face! I also want to thank all of my friends for watching "The Craigslist Killer" and being worried about my well-being. I (almost) always text a friend with the name of my date and any identifying information about them, as well as the place we are meeting up in case I ever go missing.

**The laughing Accountant did call later that night and left a message for me on my voice mail, which I never returned. I'm pretty sure that he was able to see through my facade since I'm a horrible liar.

Mr. Abercrombie

2011-03-29T10:56:00.000-07:00

Have you ever looked at a guy and thought "no way is he going to respond to me at all?" I have. Now, I certainly don't think I'm an ugly duckling, but I am well aware of the species of man that I attract and that species usually doesn't include men that have Adonis blood running through their veins. It's very important to know you're audience, or "league" as I like to say from time to time.

This guy though. Man! He was way out of my league. Just look at any Abercrombie ad, if you dare, because you know...it's practically porn - that's him to a tee. Drop dead looks, killer body, tall, dark, well spoken, employed, no baggage. I thought about contacting him for a week before I came up with the courage to do so, expecting rejection. I hit "send" on the message, and waited. I saw him glance at my profile a day later. Then, success! A message back! I opened it, bracing for a "you're not really my type" kind of response and after I picked my jaw up off the floor, realized that he was asking me out!

You think I would've been excited about going on a date with Mr. Abercrombie, but no. I started thinking about it. And judging.

This guy obviously knew he was hot. According to his profile, his longest relationship was less than a year, probably because he's so god damned selfish that any woman in her right mind wouldn't put up with that shit for more than a couple of months. I was immediately thinking that this guy most definitely relies on his looks to get him through life. Even though he wrote well in chatting with me, he didn't really say all that much. His words seemed...empty - to the point and without much elaboration. In my head, I was thinking that he probably takes longer to get ready on a daily basis than I do, because I'm sure it takes a lot of effort to be that pretty. And product. I'm sure it takes a whole shit ton of bronzer, moisturizer, hair gel and cologne to pull the look off. Plus, hours of GTL.

As we were chatting, and I was growing more and more weary of meeting him, he let it drop that he had a 9-incher.

Let that sink in for a moment. A hot hunk with a huge penis? Yeah...not likely. In my experience, guys who have big members don't have to talk about how big their junk is. They like the "oh my god" reaction when disrobing in front of you for the first time. Mr. Abercrombie also wouldn't back up his grandiose statement with a picture, which I know is RULE 7, but like I said before, there isn't a rule I haven't broken (in triplicate at least). He did send a picture of this 12-pack abs. Not 6-pack, 12-pack. I counted after I wiped up the drool.

Date night came. I decided that I was going to put minimal effort into the whole process. Clean hair, natural make-up, nice jeans with a top that wasn't too revealing. I looked very girl next door, very...me. I knew that I wouldn't be uncomfortable or fidgety all night and looking like myself created an air of extreme confidence that I had no problem carrying on.

I arrived at our meeting spot exactly at our agreed upon meeting time. And waited. After 10 minutes, I got a text from him saying that he was around the corner and NOT TO LEAVE - in caps. (I was just going to pack it in and call it quits.) Just as he promised, he came into the bar looking like the most beautiful human on the planet. He spotted me, came over, put his hand on my back and gave me a kiss on the cheek. Oh! HELLO!!! Nice greeting. I immediately started to feel badly for pre-judging him. Don't worry, that feeling didn't last long. I mean, this is a blog about dating horror stories, right?!

Mr. Abercrombie took my drink order and headed to the bar. In a hot second he was back with two brews. Ahhh...liquid courage! How wonderful you taste! We started talking, and the conversation was great as long as it was all about him. It didn't take very long for me to realize that my 6th sense was right on the money. The guy was a self-absorbed asshole. I played along, and by the second drink found out that not only does he spend all of his free time working out (shocker!) but that he also still lives with his parents and tried out for the Jersey Shore! Bwhahahaha! I may have chuckled a little under my breath. Don't get me wrong, I like Jersey Shore, but who the fuck wants to be one of those little brats?! The women in bar had the same reaction to Mr. Abercrombie's beauty that I had. I can not explain what it was like to watch grown women of all ages take the long way to the bathroom so they could get a glance at him, or accidentally "bump" his shoulder when passing our table. All the while, he kept a hand on my knee and his eyes on my face while making overtly sexual comments about us going back to my place. I know this guy wasn't going to offer me a lifetime of happiness, but one night of thrills might be kind of fun.

I had a tough choice to make. Do I stand strong, and leave him at "goodnight" or do I take him home and show him that average girls rock in bed? As one of my friends texted (which I checked while he was in the restroom at the bar), "go for it girl...I'm living vicariously thru you!" So, I did.

Mr. Abercrombie was surprisingly overjoyed with the invitation and grabbed my hand, practically dragging me out of the bar to our cars. "Don't drive too fast and lose me" he said as he pulled me into him, kissing me on the mouth with some of the most passionate force I've felt in a long time. I drove slow. I used my blinkers. I forced myself not to chain smoke in the 10 minute drive to my place. And, then it hit me! I'm going to have to get naked in front of him! Ahhhhh!!!!! His perfect body will be rubbing up against my soft belly and ass...if I lean a little in one direction, a roll will pop out and highlight that last 10 pounds I've been *thinking* about working off. I know! I'll light some candles. That will ease the pain. We parked in my driveway and before I could even open my car door, Mr. Abercrombie was waiting with a smile that could charm the pants off anyone. I checked my watch. It was 10:19pm. We had until midnight before I turned into a pumpkin.

I let us in, found some matches, lite a couple of tea lights and got naked. He laid on the bed staring at me as I undressed in the candle light. I climbed in next to him and headed down south. I barely got my bearings about me before he grabbed my arms and pulled me up. He slid into a condom, then slid into me, got a good solid two strokes out and came. I was beyond stunned. Did that really just happen? Less than 30 seconds, start to finish?! What the fuckitty fuck?!?! Now, I have to add this loser onto my partner list...I mean it was barely sex. Can I get a pass on this one?

He excused himself to the bathroom to clean up (not that there was much to clean up), and before he got back I promptly got dressed and laid his clothes out for him. There would be no cuddling or small talk - just get the hell out of my house and let me call my friends, who must know about this night IMMEDIATELY. I made up some excuse about having to be at the office wicked early and handed him his pants. Luckily, he took the hint, got dressed and locked the front door behind him. Time he left...10:24pm. That's right, look back up a couple of paragraphs and do the math. Now think about the fact that he used a condom, which guys say numbs them down a little. Ha!

Poor Mr. Abercrombie. It may not have been the self-centered attitude, or the fact that there was no substance to his personality, or that he lived at home with mom and dad or tried out for Jersey Shore. All of those things a woman can overlook when extreme beauty is involved. (Kidding, I think.) But, 30-second sex? With no apology for being a two-pump chump? Get the fuck out! No woman is going to sacrifice her vagina's pleasure receptors just because you make good arm candy!

So, in closing I would just like to say...*I* am so way out of *his* league. Or I took his V-card.

(Miz Adventure's note after the post: Mr. Abercrombie has been lighting up my phone since the beginning of writing this blog post. In true asshole fashion, he would like me to "make some time to fit him in...my mouth." I guess handing him his clothes that night, not calling for weeks and blocking him from my profile didn't get the point across sufficiently. I wonder if telling him that his dick isn't anywhere close to 9 inches will do the trick? No wonder I didn't get that picture from him.)

A Brief Welcome

2011-03-28T18:36:00.000-07:00

There are a ton of self-help books that try to tell us ladies how to properly date to land the most perfect man in the world, such as He's Just Not That Into You, Men Are From Mars, Women Are From Venus and of course, The Rules According to JWOWW. (I wish I was kidding on that last one.) What none of these books touches on are Internet dating rules. It's pretty much a free for all out there. On-line dating is essentially blind dating, but without whatever "friend" who arranged such date, giving him their stamp of approval beforehand. You browse pictures and profiles until you find someone you'd like to spend a couple of hours with, then you instant message, or email, or for the truly daring individual, you exchange phone numbers and text each other until a meeting is secured and you tell all your friends you have a date with a really great guy! Sometimes, there's an actual phone call - which I do recommend for a variety of reasons. One being, the laugh. A person's laugh can be a big deal breaker for me. I'm not fond of jackals and their noises and if a guy has that laugh that gives you the same reaction as nails on a chalkboard, well at least you know you didn't waste your time cowering in some corner of a bar as he hoots and hollers loud and proud while you sink just a little deeper into yourself waiting until he turns his head so you can make a break to safety.

Thing is, there are rules.

The Rules According To Miz Adventures:

1. Read the fucking profiles! Beware of anyone who doesn't have a picture on their profile. It probably means he's a troll living under your nearest bridge with a bunch of billy goats. Also, if they can't use spell check on his description of himself then that person is a certifiable idiot. (I especially like when someone brags about being "inteligent" and intelligent is spelled wrong. I laugh a little inside.)

2. Make sure you have a couple of clothed full body shots of yourself handy. Guys always want to verify that you are a girl and that you're not a cow.

3. Quality over quantity. Don't contact every hot guy all in one day. There is not enough time in the day to respond to all those messages! And, chances are you are at work - and you shouldn't be logged in to an Internet dating site while on the job!

4. Set up an email account that isn't <yourname>@yahoo/hotmail/gmail.com. That's just dumb and probably doesn't need any explaining as to why.

5. Make sure that if you do text or call a guy, you get his full name and a picture of his face, and for Christ sakes...add him as a contact in your phone. This way, you don't confuse people you are talking to. There are a lot of "Mikes" and "Jasons" out there and if you want to avoid someone you deem as creepy, if you have 13 Mikes in your phone with no photos, you may make a mistake.

6. Talk to the person before meeting, live on the phone. Make sure he's a real guy! Make a joke, listen for the laugh, get a handle on his personality. Google him! Facebook him! Call the local police department and have them run a background check...just kidding. (Well, unless you can snag his social security number!)

7. Don't talk/text about sex! And, don't ever ask for a picture of his penis. It's slutty and opens a whole can of worms that can get you in trouble. And, on the same note - don't send naked, or semi-naked pictures to him!

8. ALWAYS meet in a public place! And, always tell a friend who you're meeting and where you will be. It's just a smart move.

9. Don't drink too much.

10. Keep your legs (and mouth, and asshole I guess) CLOSED to the public.

Unfortunately, I've broken every single rule, minus my number two, which I just threw in there so I would have an even ten rules to preach about. Let me repeat that...I have broken every single (major) rule in Internet dating. Sigh. Ladies - be safe above everything else. Use the brain that is inside your head and trust your instincts, and always...ALWAYS have a get away plan.

With all of that being said, I think you can see what direction this blog will be taking! For me, dating in general has gotten to the point where I hope for the worst date possible, just so I can add it to my list of fucked up, frankly awesome experiences with very questionable people that I wouldn't ever think of introducing to my friends, let alone my mom. I'm no longer on a quest to find love, but rather on a trail to happiness. If someone bumps into my path, great. If not, I'll continue to break hearts along the way.

Welcome to my blog of dating adventures, gone wrong.