Decisions, decisions...

I recently came into information that my ex has somehow magically stumbled onto this blog. I guess I have to be a little more careful to whom I give the address next time... Well, now I am left with a dilemma:

Do I make this blog private?

Do I move it to a different blog hosting site?

Do I change the name of this blog?
If yes, do I have to use a whole new email address? Create a new damn profile? Argh.

The blog was written anonymously, with very little distinguishing markers, so I thought I was I fine to keep it public. I liked to think people are stumbling upon my page and liking the scattered thoughts so much, that they follow me! Some random girl they don't even know.

But, I can't be all having this jackass lovely, amazing, charming young fellow getting all up in my bidness, ya heard?

I'm so sad that someone has shared with him the link. I am used to blogger. I like using blogger. I've spent the past couple of hours creating a new email address a new blog site, etc and it has been a total waste of my time. I should have been catching up on the past five months of wild and amazingly fun dates I've been having- complete with steamy, passionate, hands pressed up against the window of a car on the starboard bow sex (or maybe that was in a movie.. I get confused).

So I have this to deal with. I have yet to come up with the best option. Please advise as you see fit. And of course, all readers are invited to follow the new blog, wherever it may end up.

Grrrrrrr. Annoyed doesn't cover it. I don't have time for this! I need to be busy out there saving the world.... one slimy frog at a time.

Suck it, Trebek.

Six Flags!

I know I know... Punch me, please. This date was over a MONTH ago and I am just now getting around to it. How annoying is that? Pretty annoying for you probably. Also unfortunate that I really have forgotten mucho of the details. Oops. I didn't forget that I got so sweaty and gross that I wouldn't want to go on a third date with me either. I also didn't forget that I wont at Whack-a-mole. Take that, cowboy.

Key Points:

1. Alabama bought me a season pass. So if nothing else, best parting gift ever!
2. Texas is HOT in the summer. I made the awful mistake of wearing a thin, skinny strapped tank top (Also possible I flashed him at one point... whoops). I should've worn an undershirt. I was dis.gust.ing. Shirt was soaked. Who would've thought? Maybe that's why there was no steamy make-out at the end of the date... because we spent the whole day being hot and walking around steamy concrete.
3. Going on a weekday cuts down your wait for the rides.
4. Alabama is a beautiful, beautiful man... who talks like Forrest Gump. But, he's smart. He has good things to say and it's kind of cute when he says them with his southern drawl and punctuates with that dimpled smile.
5. He told me a joke that's punch line hinged on "mountain lion" being 2 syllables. We had a ten minute conversation where I tried to explain to him that, no.. mountain lion actually had 4 syllables. I wish I was kidding or exaggerating. I'm not.

(FOUR syllables: moun-tain li-on)

It was all in all a pretty good date, but to be honest.. Even though Jerry told me was not interested in pursuing anything with me and Alabama is a beautiful specimen of man, I knew somewhere in my fails-miserably-at-dating heart and psycho-girl-brain that a guy like Jerry (at least, one that actually wanted to date me and didn't get all weird just because I had a super, what the eff is wrong with me minor little teeny tiny freak out that reminded him of his ex girlfriend...) is a better fit for me; and that a guy who spends two weeks away at work, and spends his two weeks back home hunting, fishing, and doing other hillbilly stuff.

So I came off the date with a season's pass to six flags, some American flag sunglasses, a photo strip with the handsome fella, and a tummy ache from eating a giant Icee... Oh, and a desire to see Alabama with less clothes on.

I tell you folks, breaking up may be hard to do, but dating is pretty stinkin' hard to do, too. I am at my wit's end.

 Yee-haw.

Am I being too picky? Should my standards be lowered? Bummer dates, good guys.... Great dates, bummer guys.... or just good dates, good guys that just aren't that into me. It's supposed to be worth it in the end... right?

Step 2.5: Date 3.0

So we had date one on Thursday, date two on Friday, surely date three will be sometime next week, right? Things are moving pretty quickly.... BUT he is the one that jumped the gun by sending flowers before we even had our first date. He's totally digging me... and I'm okay with this. Maybe I can take a break from finding reasons NOT to like this guy and just let myself like him?

Well, Jerry texts me Saturday saying he knows I'm busy getting ready for a work event the next day, but that he'd really love to see me if he could and can he take me to dinner after he gets some errands done?

Uhm, well... I mean, I guess? (Hey, I said he was "growing on me" not grown on me!) This is moving pretty fast. What about my marriage and happily ever after date with the southern gentleman of my dreams come to life Alabama in a couple of weeks?? So, I plan on dinner with Jerry and get ready to get ready for my day (it takes me a lot of get ready-ing). Around noon, he calls me saying that he got done with some work stuff early, and hey why don't we do all those things I wanted to do today together? Wait, you want to go to Ikea? and Rally House? and Pier One? (Maybe Bed Bath and Beyond but I DON'T KNOW IF WE WILL HAVE ENOUGH TIME) Whoa, fine buddy. I will spend some time with you. Better to figure out early if you are going to annoy the ever living piss out of me so I can move on and move out you of my consideration set.

We do all of those things: I get sad about not finding my Alma Mater's gear at Rally House, we go to Pier One, go to Ikea where I get a bookshelf and play with all the toys. This is actually pretty lucky since it absolutely would not have fit in my car! Then we go to dinner in the Shops at Legacy and I like his eyes... and his smile and oh shit. No NO NO!! But then he's making "us" plans and then we go back to his house, let his dog out, he takes my bookshelf to my apartment, carries it up the stairs and we get down to business. I kind of like how he kisses me and how much he compliments me and all of the sweet things he says....

Alabama who...? Somewhere between Pier One and the Perfect Summer Beer, I realize that while Alabama might have been very exciting because he's so handsome and charming and was the first guy that didn't make me want to join a nunnery... maybe he wasn't the perfect match for me. This guy has a lot of things I liked and I was starting to get kind of excited to learn more...

 (Wait, am I doing this wrong?)

Well damn. I'm totally still going to Six Flags though.

Step 2: The Dating

So, after date one on Thursday, he texts me when he gets home with his date recap (Back story: Before our first date, but after we started talking, he went on a couple of other first dates and I jokingly asked for a recap once, and then he would do it after each of them.). He tells me he had an amazing time and that I was everything he hoped I would be in person, and looks forward to seeing me again (again, I wish I still had the original message saved). Well, I had emailed Alabama on Thursday about having some extra comedy show tickets and after he emailed me back (two days later, of course) saying he would not be in town and able to go (but could I go to Six Flags on the 29th? YES I CAN!!), I think "what the heck! Hey Jerry, I had a good time too, and usually I wouldn't do this, but do you want to come to a comedy show tomorrow night?"

Of course he does. He is smitten with me. Two dates in two days... whoa. Okay, still have cute conversation all day Friday and we try to figure out the before show "do we eat there? can we eat there? do they have food? we can get food nearby?" food situation.. we briefly discuss having a Totino's pizza (a personal fave- don't judge me, dammit) picnic, but I was feeling bratty, thinking about my upcoming date with Alabama and decided against the dinner in front of my apartment option. He picks me up, I'm annoyed that he couldn't follow my simple directions to get to my apartment. We get to the theatre, I'm annoyed-er because he wasn't doing a good job getting to a parking spot. Why am I so aggravated?!? No clue... or maybe I hate hate hate being late and HE IS MAKING ME LATE. Whatever. This guy is whatever. Ugh.

Then we go in, he is nice to my friends, he buys everyone's first drink and we hang out and talk. He's interesting and sweet and he's growing on me. The comedy show is terrible. Screech (yeah, that's right- from Saved by the Bell) is definitely not funny. Just gross and dirty and raunchy and talk about an uncomfortable second date! Well, the show ends, I get my picture with Dustin Diamond and we head out. What do you want to do? Oh, I dunno. What do you wanna do? Oh I dunno- okay, you get how this goes. We end up down at a bar on lower Greenville that has noone there where we are just going to have a couple of drinks and chat. Or so we thought... UNTIL!! (dun dun dun) What do I spy?! NUDIE PHOTO HUNT! Which normally might not be that exciting, but I was pretty excited. We end up playing for a couple of hours and it is a ton of fun. He's growing on me =)

Time to go home, walks me to my door (deal breaker if I'm left to brave the walk to my own door in case of villains, bad guys, dragons, etc), goes in for the kiss, and 15 minutes later, I decide it's better to move this party inside, what with the neighbors and all.

He heads home three hours later (no slumber party!), and texts me when he gets home. He tells me about what an amazing night he had and how he looks forward to seeing me again- and can't wait until he gets to. =)

Step 1: The Courtship

I get a great email from Jerry. He looks pretty cute, but his email is what gets me. He's funny, paid attention to what I wrote and seemed genuinely interested in knowing me better. He asked me inquisitive questions in a funny manner and his messages make me smile. We quickly move to hilarious email banter and then he gives me his number. I tell him I am uncomfortable providing mine because I don't want any Anthony pics. He told me I was a fool for thinking he would actually give me his real number and had instead given me the number to a Dominoes in Flower Mound. It is funny and weird that we spent that entire Friday night texting about pizza. And only pizza. He was Dominoes and I was Edgar... And he was funny! Okay, so I can hang out with this guy as I patiently (not patiently) wait for my Six Flags date with Alabama.

 (not really an exaggeration)

We are texting constantly. He calls me. He tells me how excited he is to meet me. He has flowers delivered to my office on Monday before our first date on Thursday. I'm beginning to feel just a LITTLE bit freaked out... Why does he like me so much? He hasn't even met me? Why did he send these flowers? What is going on? Is he overcompensating? Is he actually a psycho? I don't know! But, I am willing to give him a chance because I do like talking to him. Also, I like people that like me. Makes me feel good. And popular. And pretty. But really, is this guy going to be a total weirdo with no social skills?

I ask him what picture of his looks most like him. He doesn't know.. huh? He says that picture XYZ is most recent. Hmm.. I'm concerned that maybe the cute pictures don't accurately depict him and that the other ones are questionable. I am sad. What if he's terrible and makes me want to punch out my own eyeballs?

So he suggests Victor Tango's. Thursday. 7 pm. What should I wear? (Oh eff. This BS again??) I decide to wear a dress that I had purchased awhile ago for a different date that I never ended up wearing. It's one of the cutest dresses I own and I pretty much rocked it. I go to meet him. He's actually tall! And pretty cute. Great! We have a really good dinner and conversation. A girlfriend of mine works there, so that was pretty fun to mess with him for a bit until I told him I knew her. He asks me if I am okay with a little walking (I had told him a terrible date story where he made me walk through downtown FTW in heels. in a dress. in December.).

I'm okay with a little walking. He takes me to Barnes and Noble where he purchases me three things:

1. The Alchemist (As a thank you for introducing him to my favorite book of all time: The Art of Racing in the Rain, which he also loved and felt obligated to repay me)
2. The Last Lecture (He thought I should read it)
3. The T-Shirt Game (I was actually going to purchase this for myself because it looked fun and then he up and snatched it from me)

Then he took me back to the restaurant to retrieve my car, waited with me for it and we parted ways. A lovely date.

All in all, I had a fun time. He's smart, listens to me, is up for trying new things and he's interested in me. I'm not smitten, but I like him. There's some chemistry, maybe. We'll see.

Are those bobbers on your sunglasses?

After my oh-so-charming date with Shooter McGavin, I make a rash decision and agree to a next night date... on a Friday. I'm mad at the world match.com for putting me through this, so I could really give a flying fish about this date. I mean... let's look at the facts:

He is from Alabama (hillbilly).
He went to A&M (this again??).
He was in the army.
He travels for his work (gone for a few weeks at a time).

I grab a dress and some sandals, throw them on and I'm good to go... Wait, I have a few minutes. I guess I can brush my hair. I know I'm going to show up and he is going to have arrived on either a horse (And no, my initial posting of wanting my prince to show up on a horse is NOT foreshadowing. this would be a yeehaw horse- not the valiant steed of a knight in shining armor), or he'd show up in a big ol' truck. Quite possibly maroon (TAMU). Maybe with a camo gun rack and deer antlers attached somewhere.

I get to Gloria's, and as I am walking up I get a message from Alabama that just says "here." Excellent. A well-spoken man of many words... I should probably keep this in mind in all future textual communication from this boy. I see a GIANT white truck with a rack (bike, not gun) on top and giggle a bit to myself that maybe that's his.

I walk in, flustered because I just had to walk a couple blocks due to the terrible parking conditions, and I am 2 minutes late. I hate. hate. hate being late to ANYthing... which is probably the number one reason MP and I did not work out... Well, maybe the top ten.

I look around. I don't see him. Maybe I see him? I text him to find out if he put our name down on the list and is he here because I do not see him. Rawr, rawr, rawr. In my head, I semi-joke with myself that he is the brown haired boy sitting at the bar with the maroon (A&M, duh) hat, the sunglasses with the little floatie bobbers, and the white button up, yet construction looking shirt. It's kind of a joke, right? because I think in my head that that HAS to be him, it won't be and I am going to feel silly for thinking he's SUCH a... hillbilly country boy.

No, Self, I say go with your gut. You are a genius with an uncanny knack of knowing stuff (psychic). He walks up, says my name, shakes my hand, and as I look into those eyes of his: game.over. I no longer care if he is wearing damned camo overalls and a cowboy hat (he's not really... at least, not tonight).

"I think I saw your truck," says me.
"Oh, the white one?" says him. (I KNEW IT!!! ME=GENIUS/PSYCHIC (situational analysis))

Let's look at some other facts:

I dated a guy from ENNIS, Texas whom I kind of adored.
He drove a big ol' truck, had a good lil dog and plaid sheets....
He was a cop, he dipped, liked to sit in his lazy-boy and watch baseball.... and I melted every time he called me "lady." Swoon, I tell you... swoon. So maybe, despite my best intentions I have a thing for country boys.

Again, I digress. We sit down.. He says things like "momma" and "Daddy" and had perfect teeth and these dimples, and a smile that made me sweaty... and I loved him was having a wonderful time. Am I in a match.com commercial?? Will they kick me out of this place if I crawl over the table and kiss him?

These flies on my food are hilarious. The annoying couple next to us are simply charming. My glasses? They are quite lovely, aren't they.... what with this rose color and all. "Oh, what's that Alabama? You dropped your fork on the ground and just asked to use mine? That's unfortunate, of course you may!" (Seriously?? What is wrong with me?? Red flag! Red flag! Knock if off, blondie! That is dis.gus.ting.... but, it says that he trusts me and wants to be closer with me, right...?).

Dinner is wonderful (don't remember what I ordered). Conversation was perfect (don't know what we talked about). and I have fallen in love and would like to go on a second date. He drove me to my car, called me darlin', and waited until I was safe and sound in the driver's seat. He even invited me to come hang out in FTW with his friend and him... but I opted not to. I needed to go drink more Sangria and name our unborn children.

This is a good look for me, anyway:

I love you. Call me.

Hit me with your best shot...

Another date, another... dollar? I don't know. I wish my dates would give me a dollar. And if I liked them, I could give it back in exchange for a kiss... I just thought of that, but that's pretty good. Not only would it pay for my time, but it would take the does-he-or-does-he-not-like-me and will-he-or-won't-he-call-me nerve-wracking, time-wasting, ego-destroying aspect out of this awful, Guantanamo Bay-esque torture some of you like to call "dating." But, I digress.... I had a date about a week and a half ago with a lovely young man that let's just call Shooter (Shooter McGavin, anyone? pow pow pow).

Our original date was canceled and he promised that he would absolutely not cancel again- but since he was stuck traveling and he just wasn't going to make it back in time, he just wasn't going to be able to make this date. Fine, fine. I understand- stuff comes up. But, as I now had a bit more time on my hand, I decided to peruse his profile and see what I was missing out on. First off, he didn't really have any good pictures of him on his profile. WHY? I do.not.understand why guys don't have any good, solid pictures of themselves- showing their faces from at least 3 different angles, NOT taken in a mirror with a cell phone. Second, Shooter had TWO pictures (out of his six) of his dog; not of him and his dog mind you, but just his dog. Beautiful golden retriever? Ferocious German shepherd? Oh no, no...

Please know that I didn't even have to google this picture.... I was able to pull it directly off of his page.

I love animals. LOVE THEM.... but I just have a hard time wrapping my head around a man who owns such a... frilly little dog. The kicker is that it isn't the residue of some break-up... He bought it himself. Seriously, man? In addition, when describing the dog, he called it a "Shit Zu" and said that Harley was the love of his life.

Alrightie then... now I am hoping that maybe he does choose to never reschedule our date- despite his funny emails and offerings of a date to an iguana farm. He doesn't. We schedule a date... one that I accidentally set for a Thursday during Mavs playoffs on accident. He said he promised not to reschedule, so he agreed on Thursday. We meet at the restaurant... I feel bad about only being free on this Thursday, but maybe he isn't a huge Mavs fan? Wrong. He loves the Mavs. He told me they were his all time favorite team ever. Oops. He loves them more than I love Mizzou... Wait, wait wait. I am lying. He cannot possibly love ANYTHING more than I love the Tigers, but... you get it. Sorry Shooter.

The food is fine- we split a little flatbread appetizer thing and I have a salad... and that's it. WTF? Is he watching his weight? I think it's weird when dudes do girlie stuff like that... but then again homeboy does own a dog that wears ribbons. He somehow talks me into going to watch the game with him at a bar down the road. Fine, fine. I kind of owe him for making him miss the first quarter (which who cares about anyway), so I oblige. I'm not a heartless bitch that big of a heartless bitch.

We walk into the bar, mosey up to get some drinks, and my darling date asks me if I would like a shot. (I wish I could input that errrrrrr record stopping sound here, but just imagine it)..  What?

"A shot," he says.

Uhm, no... no thanks. It's a school night and I have to work in the morning... How old are you again? Are you 21? I'm sorry, I guess I should've studied your age instead of your ridiculous photos.

Okay, I'm out for the count at this point. He's a spoiled rich kid (drives a new caddie, pulls out rolls of cash, flies around the country "starting his businesses," takes Patron shots at 9 on Thursday nights, and of course, went to Highland Park High School), I'm not impressed at all, and I want to go home.. or at the very least, meet up with my friends to watch the game.

He tells me how much prettier I am in real life than in photos. Neat. Thanks.
He tries to do a sneaky-attack kiss (IN THE MIDDLE OF THE BAR). Seriously dude? Next time you're in the end zone, act like you've been there before... And by end-zone, I mean a first date. I definitely don't mean my panties end-zone. Luckily this ain't my first rodeo so I was able to gracefully and quickly turn his advances away.

He asks me if I would like to watch the rest of the Mavs game at his friend's place. It is apparently more comfy there, and the TV is much easier to see. Again, I've been in the saddle more than once, and no thank you kind sir, I most definitely would not like to do that. Yes, I am sure. Yes, I can see the TV just fine from here. No, I already told you I would not. Yes, I understand you will bring me back to my car, later... Sigh.

The Corona girls where there, and if you let them take your photo, they would give you a free Corona. I need one of those, thankyouverymuch (Now I realize I should've taken that shot, but as they say: hindsight is 20/20). I wish more than anything else in the world right now that I could upload that photo that those lovely ladies took of us so you could how adorable I look, and see his douche-tastic pose... see his squenched eyes, rock & roll mouth and fist-pump arm.... but alas, I cannot. It was like this, but worse:

Much, much worse... I am happy to email actual pic, should you request it =)

There were so, so, so many cute guys in the bar... why am I with this dude?

When the Mavs start to lose, he starts to get upset. Shoves his chair, stomps his feet around... Settle down, dude. They might come back. Much like a pouting child, he assures me that there is no GD way. F this. F that. F the Mavs.

The Mavs won. Told you so, whiny brat.

Yep, high five for you, Shooter!! Hug for this hot guy next to me... maybe an HJ if you'd leave me the eff alone for a few minutes....

Take me to my car. NOW. His kissing attempts are apparently ready for action again. I show him my cheek. Thank him for a lovely night.... And text him that maybe he should've made sure I got safely into my car before screeching your tires and peeling out.

I'm so stunned by this date that when I get home and see an email from a guy that I have been emailing with for months asking (verbatim) "you got plans for dinner tomorrow night?" I inform him that I do not. I never do Friday night first date dates, but whatever. I don't have plans for that night and I have no expectations for this dude who leaves the G off of words and talks like a hillbilly. Where you from, boy? Alabama... what the hell, let's go. Let's just knock these 17 dates out right here. Right now.

The forgotten date

I know, I know... You guys have been mad and sad and disappointed in my blogging.. or lack thereof. I'm sorry! But now you know how my suitors feel... I'm really bad with following up with them also. I had a date almost a month ago with one of the first guys that sent me a message. He actually went to Mizzou and knew a guy that I was pretty good friends with in college. Anyway, I would forget to respond to his emails for weeks (sorry Charlie... hey, let's call him that.). But he was always very understanding and nice about it all, and even had a joke or two about how I must have to plan my dates weeks in advance.

After yet another 9 day lapse in responding to emails (in my defense, I get about a million a day and my job makes me "work" which has cut into my personal-email-checking time...), Charlie says he has tickets to see Jerry Seinfeld, and do I want to go? Uhm... yes. I love stand up comedy! Score- best date ever... I'm pumped. So I meet him at Macaroni Grill and we have a glass of wine before heading to the Winspear. He's cute! And, TALL (I had no idea there were any guys over 5'8" on Match). So we head down to the show, me in an adorable dress and cardigan, and him in his khaki pants and khaki+argyle sweater. And brown shoes.. loafers? mules? some kind of backless slides. And black socks... He obviously needs some help in this department.

Charlie is a pharmacist and owns a house in Frisco. Apparently in a subdivision with a lazy river. I want to visit him. I love lazy rivers.

He is incredibly nerdy- which I am actually okay with (and, as you will read in upcoming posts, I would prefer this over homeboy taking shots at the bar in the middle of the date). From a small town in Missouri, graduated with something like 40 people from high school, and probably saw the insides of countless lockers during that time. The show is good (for the record, the opening act was funnier than Jerry, sorry Seinfeld fans) and we go to PF Changs for dinner afterwards. Good conversation... he's smart and funny and super nice... even in black socks, brown shoes and a khaki sweater... in May.

No amazing fireworks or stars in my eyes.... Can this even happen on a first date?? (Spoiler alert... I now think it can! wink wink) So he was my.... seventh first date? What is the magic number; 17? Awesome. JUST TEN MORE! I got this, y'all.

All in all a good date, but he doesn't love dogs.

Your shoes scream hipster

I had a date two weeks ago that I was pretty darn excited about. His profile was spot-on with funny and togetherness, he fit someone I would be interested in AND he had a picture of the cutest black lab I had ever seen. This is the one! Fun times ahead, obviously. We are going to go horseback riding and go to Jazz in the Park and do all of the other simply delightful dates I have planned in my head. We had several days of perfectly witty, teasing texts, a couple phone calls and I was no longer disappointed by my slew of less than ideal match dates.

This was going to be it! No more of these guys that seem great and then we meet and the chemistry is lacking... Maybe I build them up too much in my head and there is no way they can measure up? I dunno.. maybe there is a list of failed dates because I am just going on so many more than I would if I were to be meeting them in person? Probably all of the above.

Anyway, let's see... Sam* and I decide to meet for a drink and then head to dinner in the Bishop Arts district together. I try on approximately 19 different outfits, and about 9 pairs of shoes. With all these different options, surely I picked the perfect thing... right? Wrong, again blondie. From his pictures, he has sparkling blue eyes, a killer smile, and to-die-for dimples. I'm pumped! I arrive at the G-Man, and I hear my name being called from across the parking lot. No no no no no no. Why am I wearing such tall shoes? WHY do I not understand how "height" works. 5'8" is not tall. I am at least as tall as him in my heels. Not. Fair. My attraction to him doubles when we sit, but I just don't know how I feel about being eye level with a fella.

I am not a tall girl. I do not wear ridiculous shoes. There is no way my heels are 4 inches. I am beginning to think that some of these boys add an inch or two to their height. LIARS! LIARS! LIARS! Knock it off!

So the rest of the date- conversation is decent. He brought up how he used to make just sooo muuucchh monneeeyyyy at a former job. First dates are not appropriate places for salary talk, bucko. We eat at Bolsa; I try everything (including mussels, smoked salmon, and some odd prosciutto bruschetta business: unimpressed with all of these, so I will stick with foods I know I like from here on out), so I am proud of myself for stepping out of that box. We have delicious wine, a great dessert, and my cheeseburger is fabulous. I am willing to go back- after checking their seasonal menu for items to satiate my picky selective palette.

He drops me off at my car. Goodnight. Thank you. Talk to you later alligator. He texts me later about how he just thought there would be more chemistry; it seemed like I was never "completely at ease" but that was his fault for not making me feel comfortable and he was sorry about that; but that I was a great date. I was his first online date, so hopefully I didn't scare him away from it all. He really is a fun, sweet, cute (albeit slightly balding) guy, so I know there is someone out there for him... someone a little shorter, maybe.


Oh, and his shoes were weird.

Addendum: This previous Friday night, I saw a guy sitting across the patio at Blackfriar from me who looks surprisingly similar to Sam. So I text him and ask if he is at Blackfriar. He affirms that he is, in fact, there and that I am staring right at him (I'm not staring). So we text back and forth for a bit- funny, cute, he looks alright over there! Maybe I judged him too quickly? Maybe I will give him a second chance and go on another date... Except, that at no time does he come over and say hi. That is so weird, right?! I get that he is a little weird about being on an online dating site, but he didn't have to tell his friends that that is where he met me. Weirdo, weirdo, weirdo! Bleh.

I'm starting to feel a little jaded about this all. Maybe online dating isn't for me? And do short guys have weird personalities, because I feel like the majority of the profiles I see are of short guys! I do need to start updating as the world turns date happens so that the memories are fresh and perhaps my humor will be less lacking. Only 4.5 more months of this... although, match does have a guarantee.

Oh Dear Lord, please don't let me need that guarantee. I am still waiting to meet that 6'1" blue eyed, hilarious, smart, romantic, spontaneous dream boat who makes my heart melt just by looking at me, and sets off fireworks in my heart (nether regions) when we kiss...(who also knows how to play the guitar, loves dogs, and likes aquatic, live music, and animal-geared adventures) guy who speaks English and doesn't beat me, as we reach for the same tomato at Central Market, one thing leads to another and there we are smooching in the chip aisle...

Grocery stores are always this sexy... right?

Sigh.

It's not you, it's... maybe it is you.

Before I officially signed up for this online dating business, and I was just looking at the boys to see if I thought there were enough cute ones, I saw one that I thought was super cute. I decided then and there, what the heck! If this cute guy is on here, then there will be plenty of boys I will like... or at least there should be a decent pool of acceptable contenders for me to choose from. So I signed up and waited for him to send me a message. Or wink at me. Or.. do something. He never did! Finally, I had to take matters into my own hands so I sent him a message. Let's call this chap Gretzky because he plays hockey.

A few match.com messages led to a few real emails led to hilarious text message banter led to a phone call. Yep, he actually called me on the phone! We talked for almost two hours, and boy was I smitten. He was funny and sweet and had a good voice and I started wondering if our children would have blue eyes or green eyes.

We texted for the next few days and he called me Sunday to officially ask for my hand in me out for Monday, which I thought was very sweet. I got more and more nervous as each day passed and by the time Monday came around, I was sure I would be unable to go on the actual date because I would be dead from a heart attack.

WHAT DO I DO NOW??? What is better; kiss or no kiss on the first date? What if I run out of things to talk about?? What if he doesn't like me? What if I don't like him!? What should I wear? Hair up? Down? Half and half? Oh dear Lord.

I hate being late, but I was a few minutes late due to a few minor breakdowns in my attempt to look perfect and 64 outfit changes. The date went fine. Great conversation, chit chat, banter... And then for the kicker. At the end of the date, he looks at me and says "Yeah, so, honestly? I don't see this going anywhere."

I'm sorry... but uhm what??? After a couple of weeks of delightful conversation, he is able to surmise that we would never work out in the relationship department after a couple of hours and a few drinks?? I am baffled by this news from Mr. Gretzky. While I definitely appreciated his honesty, I was awfully taken aback that he would tell me right there to my face that I wasn't doing it for him. Am I not pretty enough? Smart enough? Funny enough (I'm definitely funny enough, a-hole!)?

So, I stressed out whether or not I should kiss him because I wanted to do the right thing to ensure he realllllly liked me. Well, the story isn't over yet. He walked me to my car and after a pitcher of sangria, I decided it wouldn't matter what he thought about kissing on the first date since he already told me he wouldn't be interested in seeing me again, so I did. Right then and there. In the middle of uptown, by my car... some lip-locking, tonsil hockey, steamy little make-out sesh. Maybe it was an unresolved issue from college that all too often led me to using my womanly wiles to prove my attractiveness/self esteem/worth as a person... but we kissed for awhile by my car and then (And I probably should not even be telling you guys this) I didn't turn down his offer to watch a movie at his place.

First date slumber party. Real classy. Also, we've chatted all week and he may have been so kind as to give me a ride to my home Friday night after a piano bar and some birthday celebrations. But, he didn't like me. Not attracted to me. Hmmm.

 Oops... details will not be forthcoming.

Annnnnnd I've gotten my first online-dating-website-date-kiss. Uhm... yay?

I think I learned more from this one date than the other 5 combined. Stay tuned for a list of those lessons.

It's Been One Week...

Since you looked at me... and also since my last date. Despite his name reminding me too much of what's his face, I was pretty excited about this guy. We had pretty good email banter back and forth and he was realllllllly cute in his pictures. He sets our date as a lunch date at Breadwinners. Yum. I arrive early and put our name on the list. I sit outside to enjoy the beautiful weather and hope to get a glimpse of this fella so I can silently judge and critique him before he sees me and starts jabbering away about God knows what.

I don't notice him until he walks up to me and says hello. "Hello." Awkward I don't know you, really, but we've been talking on emails hug ensues. Excellent. Chitter Chatter. I don't even know what we talk about because I'm too concerned with trying to figure out how his pictures looked so adorable and he... wait why would I agree to a date with a guy who is 5'6"?? I can't even wear heels! Luckily I was wearing sandals today, I'd hate to give him an inferiority complex about my towering height. If he's that off with his height... what other measurements is he bad at?!?

Meal was fine, waiter was creepy, conversation with Tim (as in Tiny?) is perfectly acceptable. I don't like where he went to college. He likes to play soccer. He's an only child... which is fine enough, but I kind of want a fella with siblings so that our children can grow up together and we can go on lovely family excursions... like to a dude ranch in Montana.

I'm learning so much about what I want in a man (and apparently that I make weird plans before date one). I never thought to put much thought in those kind of things aside from "I hope he's a man and I hope he has a big... heart and likes to open doors" because you know they say that fate likes to F with those people with too many expectations. "Ohhh you said tall and brown eyes? Mwaaahhaaaa short and no eyes biatch!"

So, whatever. Another notch in my online date belt. I will say I did just text him because I felt bad that I never responded to his last text last week, and he responded with "who is this?" Ouch. I guess he moved on, too. ;)

In other news, The President never emailed me. I guess this means we aren't getting one of those house divided flags? Seriously? What can I possibly have said that would make a dude not want to at least go on a second date?? I mean-I'm cute, I'm funny, I try to be charming... I might take a tape recorder along the next time to play back and figure out what exactly it is that is making this boys run for the hills.

Maybe I should heed everyone's advise "all the wrong ones are just getting you ready for the right one that is going to be your wonderful, perfect, amazing prince charming and will be everything you want him to be and... blah blah blah." If someone else says this to me after another first date that I don't really care too much about, I am going to punch them. I'm not over here wanting each of these guys to get down on one knee... but I wouldn't mind a little "movie watching" on the couch ;)

I'll be there with bells on...

So, one of the things I think I am most afraid of in my online dating endeavors is going on one of these dates and coming to find out that Mr. Online Guy has used: outdated, inaccurate, misleading or tricky photos. I mean, how do you react to that? I will tell you how I would react to that. I would go to the restroom, call my roommate and tell her she locked herself out of the apartment, or got a flat, or possibly is being chased by penguins (they can get aggressive and I imagine their beaks are sharp, so this is not a good scenario to be in), and she needs to call me back in 12 minutes to tell me of her misadventure so I can go to her rescue like SUPER GIRL!

I tell you this because, as I sat on the waiting bench at Cheesecake Factory, a man walks in. He is about 6', dark hair, kind of tan skin, dark eyes and about 45. The guy I am meeting (from here on out he will be called The President) is supposed to be... you guessed it: 6', dark hair, kind of tan skin, dark eyes, and not 45. My heart starts to pound a little harder in the non-good way. Ughhhhh- I have been dreading this. Mr. Old Balls sits about 2 feet away from me and keeps looking at the door. Is he looking for me?? Does he not recognize my beautiful face from my carefully selected (to ensure maximum creepy-man emails) profile pictures?

Luckily, about 3 minutes later, a tall dark and handsome man walks in and I am relieved. Does he look so much more handsome because I am so ecstatic he didn't go to high school with my dad? Possibly. Irrelevant. Unlike Duggar, he looks better in person than in his photos! Score!! This is great news! So we sit down, and I hear the jingling of bells. He shows me his watch and how he has attached bells to them. What! He actually followed through on a comment made in passing! We had been emailing back and forth and I affirmed our date saying "I will be there with bells on... probably not with bells on, but there." And he replied that he would in fact be wearing bells.. and he was. Good boy.

Dinner is pretty good. We have some food, some drinks and some decent conversation. He orders martinis... okay. That's fine, I guess. I mean, drink what makes you happy. But, maybe don't tell me that your guilty pleasure is you love to watch Glee, while drinking your fancy-glassed beverage.

I call him The President because of a few things. He is president of the Dallas chapter of his college's alumni association. That's pretty cool. I would love to work for Mizzou in Dallas! And, he works for a bank. Mind you, he isn't the president of the bank, but he does work at one and banks have presidents, so it makes sense to me!

The President told me he likes to wake up at approximately 5:00 am each morning so he can get to the office by 6? I almost chugged my Riesling and walked away then. That is not going to work for me, pal. I like to sleep until the last minute possible... and then lay in bed for another 15 just to challenge myself to get to work on time. He also mentioned that his little side gig of helping out the alumni association is like having a second time job. He said sometimes he doesn't get home until 10, and hasn't even had dinner yet! I recommended he keep a banana in his pocket in case he gets real real hungry.

Aside from the work-a-holic, early risin', Glee watchin' parts, this guy is so put together. You can tell just by chatting with him. I like it. He just turned 30 and he seemed like more of a grown up than MP does at 32. I could like this, but... how is he going to feel that I like to watch cartoons, doodle my name on all my school trapper-keepers work portfolios and maybe still sleep with a stuffed animal? Not very grown up. If MP didn't think I was enough of a grown up and he has been known to act like a frat boy after a kegger, then I am thinking The Pres is going to delete my email address stat... even though he promised to take me on vacations. The little liar.

Oh yeah, and he never called. Guess I shouldn't have told him that I also have a guilty pleasure: I watch shows on the WB. Or maybe it was the awkward lean in hug I gave him... maybe I shoulda gone for the smooch... I did kind of owe him after he saved me from going on a date with a 45 year old!

Alright... who is next on the list?

PS. Mr President, I am NOT singing you happy birthday and I am erasing our names entwined in hearts from my trapper keeper YOUR email address! SO THERE!

Check, Please!

I had originally had an ice cream date for Sunday afternoon. While I insisted upon frozen yogurt since A- I love it and B-ice cream makes me verrrrry uncomfortable, this fellow was adamant that only ice cream was acceptable. Even after giving him my health reason for not wanting ice cream, this idiot refused to budge on the matter (red flag one... we actually red flag 26- he sent me some weird emails, but I am keeping an open mind, here people). After some conversations and discussion, I come to find out homeboy lives in Centerville. Do you know where that is? Yeah, me neither. Apparently two hours away. I decided this was not going to work because not only do I not like to drive, but I don't like to drive to podunk cities with a population of 600 people. Also, he texts likes a 13 year old girl, and took offense when I told him so. The date got canceled, and I went on my merry way. I was able to squeeze in another nice young man who had been clamoring to get together.

Let's refer to him as Duggar because he sure does have a lot of siblings: SEVEN! What the heck guy? Did your parents not realize that they don't need extra farmhands?? Or that babies don't die of Scarlet Fever anymore?  Okay, well aside from that, my first actual match.com date seemed to have a lot of promise going into it: the fellow was pretty cute from his pictures, has a good job, didn't make any horrendous grammatical offenses in his emails to me, and went to Mizzou for his undergrad! Score!! We could get one of those adorable MU flags for our front porch (a beautiful 2 story brownstone in HP). We talked Mizzou basketball drama in our emails and everything was lovely.

He suggests Ozona's at four on Sunday. Four? Huh?? Am I the first of a line of dates on Sunday? This is not okay with me. I counter with 6. He says no, he has something going on later. Okay then, four works. Hey I'm flexible and maybe I don't know how this whole dating thing works. I don't like Ozona's food, but I do like their patio and who eats dinner at four anyway? He ends up texting saying we can meet at 6 after all and so we do. He shows up. He's cute! I am a little concerned with his tightly tucked in polo shirt and funny-color-wash jeans, but you know, whatever. I'm here to help! Conversation is good. I wasn't hanging on his every word, but it was good enough. He had good things to say, close with the fam, has a good group of friends... wonderful. All great things.

Let's talk about his teeth. They were all different colors. Come on, man.. Look into some Zoom whitening. Some veneers. Some whitening toothpaste!! It very clearly states in my profile that I find dental hygiene to be extremely important. Again, I am keeping an open mind.

He tells me how busy he's been working all day and how once he heads home, he has laundry and chores to do and wants to start reading a book he just got. After two drinks each, when the waitress comes back to ask if we want another round, he tells her no! He asks for the check! After an hour and a half!! I cannot remember a time when I have ever been on a date that the guy cuts the date short! Usually they want to go grab another drink, or move to the next place for dessert... or something! I have no idea what I did or said that he felt that doing laundry was a better option than spending time getting to know this adorable, charming, blonde girl that might possibly be too good to be true (I mean.. right?). Maybe it was because I insisted upon ordering an appetizer and then proceeded to devour half a plate of cheesy, bacony, ranchy potato wheels. What isn't sexy about that?

Hrmph. Maybe if I get him some Crest White Strips, it will make him realize I am thoughtful AND observant! Also, he abbreviated good to "gd" in all of his texts and that drove me crazy. He can go back to his seven brothers and sisters and his new book. See if I care! (Call me!!)

 Maybe he really had a lot of laundry?

My next date is Wednesday and I am kind of looking forward to this one. He's really cute, he loves to golf (I like a guy that golfs- boy hobbies are very important) and has mentioned taking me with him to Maui and Key West. I can live with that. If he cuts the date at 1.5 hours though, I might cut myself when I get home.

Sweet dreams!

And so it begins...

While I planned on writing one blog per date, I figured I could put these two together since they were the same fella and were so very similar-despite one being at a four star steakhouse and one at a casual dining restaurant.

Date one in a nutshell:
Let's call him Al in honor of the place we went on our first date: Al Biernat's. Conversation was good! He's funny and cute and nice... I had to send my steak back, and even when I got my new one, it still wasn't cooked properly. And he actually didn't leave my picky rear just sitting there. I was kind of disappointed Mr. Biernat's. Also, side note: we sat on the patio and there was a dog. And he sat in a chair... seriously? Then after dinner we went to Cru for a little more wine. More nice conversation, good wine, and great weather. He walked me to my car, rushed in real quick pecked me on the mouth and scurried off.

Date two in a nutshell:
I met him at Houlihan's- I love that place. Well, to be honest, I love any place that offers "flights" of things- especially martinis. And then, the waitress had the audacity to talk me out of the martini flight! And I let her! What the heck, woman? That was the whole reason I even wanted to go there. Whatever- the key lime pie martini was delicious. Again, Al is funny and nice and cute and conversation was good! AND: He walked me to my car, rushed in real quick pecked me on the mouth and scurried off (copy-paste). Hmmmm.

Now, I am okay with the no kisses yet. Except, the way he says goodbye is so very odd to me. And I dunno about his voice. And he's kind of short. And he has a lot of hand movements when he talks. And did I mention that he was wearing a suede bomber-type jacket on Date 2? Excellent. Oh, have I mentioned he's been married?

While I know this shouldn't be a deal breaker, I don't love this. Eh, as long as he doesn't get his hopes up, he is a fun guy to hang out with. Even if he drives a frivolous, completely ridiculous car that I don't feel to be good for much, except maybe overcompensating for... Uh oh. Let's not get into that yet. Back to the car. Corvettes are pretty much useless as a primary car, as far as I am concerned. What if I need stuff hauled? What if we need to move something big? What if we want to tailgate? A truck or SUV is an appropriate car for a man.

In other news, Baby T gets back sometime today.  He brings me fun surprises when he comes back from trips. He's such a sweet, nice boy. One thing he does that I absolutely love is that he texts me each and every morning.. Unless it's the weekend. Or he's out of town. Or he's hanging out with his ridiculous friends... And I hate that! I need consistency! Brat. But, how do you even break up with someone you aren't "with"? I don't know how he would feel to know I was dating like it is my job. I hope he brings me back a snow globe.

Also, there's a very good chance I am not ready to be dating at this time. Which is a mean girl move for all these poor fellas that are going to fall for me and I am going to have to tell them that they have failed to melt my heart of ice. Or scaled the stone wall. Or got past the electric fence. Or battled the fire breathing dragon. Or made it through the choppy, piranha infested moat... Anyway, where was I? We'll see. I will forge on! Starting tonight.

Do I refer to these dates in this format: this is 2-1 (Man 2-Date 1)? That should be good right? Al is at 1-2.... Baby T doesn't fit into this equation at all. Although... numbers can confuse me and I might lose count and then everyone is going to be thrown off and I won't know who I am going out with and where I am going or what date I am on... Maybe an excel spreadsheet will help with this.

I'll keep you posted. I am off to get beautiful for the next contestant. ;)

An Introduction...

I think a lot of emotions go through your heart when it gets broken. In fact, probably all of them. Maybe not happiness- I doubt happiness is invited to the party. I didn't really date in high school. I didn't really date seriously in college. You could say I was a late bloomer when it came to the love department. Three years after I left my University and moved across the country, I met a boy that I tried my hardest not to fall for... for awhile, it worked. It really did. I knew he liked me more than I liked him. He told me he loved me first... and I kept saying "if the butterflies aren't here in x weeks/months/days, I have to tell him goodbye." I never told him goodbye. Wait, that's a lie- I tried. Several times... but he wouldn't let me walk away. He told me again and again that it was worth it. This was something special. And I didn't need him to tell me that. Somewhere along the way that boy managed to do what no other guy ever had- he made me feel okay with letting go of a little of the control.

I had never felt this way. I had no idea what was going on; how I was supposed to act; the right things to do, to say... I went with it. Sometimes his eyes would make me melt and he'd do a silly dance in the car, and I couldn't imagine anyone else being able to fill up my heart the way he did. He got me. For the first time in all of my 26 years, someone really got me! And then one hot August day, he changed his mind. I thought the shattered pieces of my heart were going to slice through my chest and leave me bleeding to death right there... but, no, I made it home. And then I thought they would surely shred me apart, puncturing vital organs on their way out, and again, bleeding to death on the floor/bed/couch... and yet again they didn't... I made it through. I survived the pain, the feeling of total and complete despair and loss, the hurt, the nights of tears and sobbing and mutilated self worth. 

And then he changed his mind again... At first, I didn't care. I would hang out with him; he was my best friend for a year, after all- but I would keep my options open. Somewhere between that first birthday lunch and a chilly January night, he had managed to steal my heart again. I didn't realize it at the time, but he did. That chilly night did nothing to squelch the fire burning in my heart... it did however aid in freezing the blood that ran through my veins when MP changed his mind yet again. Devastation- again. Heartbreak- again. Disappointment, lost hopes and dreams, confusion- again.

It didn't matter that I had kind of started seeing someone else- someone who did those things that MP had stopped doing; someone who gave me those first butterflies... These are great at first, but once they go away, there needs to be something to take their place. And with Baby T, crickets. He is cute, and charming, and adorable, and so much fun to be around... But I don't like crickets. They get on my nerves and make too much noise. 

*I've been told I need to elaborate on Baby T- He's a boy I met in January through some friends who is a lovely young fellow.. emphasis on young. For some reason, I am never able to get past the age thing when a boy is younger than me. We always had a lot of fun together, but with him living an hour away, it made it hard. Perhaps a post on him at a later date and time!

And I missed MP. I missed him a lot. I still do. Every.damn.day. That mean ol' boy who stole my heart still comes to my mind when a Colbie Caillet song comes on, or I see a maroon truck, or any one of a billion things happens...

That's my story. And so begins my quest to find True Love. I had a taste, and it turned out to not be as bad as I thought it would be... I thought I had it with MP, but he stopped thinking feeling the same way; so I guess I was wrong. But as a wise man once said: "Trip over love, you can get up.  Fall in love and you fall forever." So I am going with that- which explains the skinned knees and battered all over feel. But, the forever sure does sound a lot better than a few months. or a year or two...

So I am picking myself up and dusting myself off, and getting back on that horse. Which will be handy since my prince should come riding in on a white horse. We'll be on the same level- easier to communicate, probably.

I signed up for some dating websites. It took a lot of talking myself into it, and rationalizing, and some swallowing of pride, but I did it! The following posts will chronicle those dates until I find someone that makes me too boring to blog anymore =)