Tag Archives: Dating

Excuse my tiara…

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Sweet Baby Jesus… this man will be the death of my single life.

I’ve worked a week straight and I’m happily tired but paying bills left and right, filling up the refrigerator AND!!!! my sweet mama hired someone to build me the garden fence to end all fences. It’s spectacular.

Life is beautiful- and my co-dependent nature has been unleashed. He texts me consistently. He compliments me constantly. He spoils me fucking rotten with genuine goodness.

My lovely daughter has been carving words into rocks all week. My mom loaned her a Dremel, and there are cute little love note rocks all over my house. She’s a crafty little off-shoot of me, and she’s on a mission to carve everything in sight. My dear boyfriend, who I’ve taken to referring to as Superman… showed up with the finest Dremel money can buy… complete with the fine detail extension thingy. He walked in smiling, begging me to not be mad.

S- Don’t be mad. She needs it.

J- Don’t spoil the baby. You don’t have to buy her anything, she’s going to like you just fine, because you’re a really good person. You don’t have to buy her a Dremel.

S- I’m not spoiling her, I’m encouraging her creativity.

The look on her face was priceless. Wide eyes. Silence. She walked over and hugged him.

R- Oh. My. WORD. Thank you… can I open it?

He opens it and sets her up and she’s a carving dynamo- laughing over the variable speed and rejoicing in her endless supply of diamond tips. He’s happy and smiling and kisses me goodbye, telling me… yet again.

S- You’re beautiful when you smile, and if I can make that happen all the time it only benefits me.

Yeah… he’s that guy. The one armed with nice words that he actually means. Finally my penchant for a sweet talker has landed me in heaven instead of hot water. He takes out the trash. He wants to fix my car. He helps the guys building my fence. This man is the best person I’ve ever met.

I had to work again and he offered to hang out with my daughter, but it’s still early on and she’s in carving bliss… so he goes and asks if it’s ok if he comes over a little before I get off work. He has a surprise for me.

I went to work, grinning at my happy reflection and embracing my new-found girlfriendness. I love being attached. I thrive in domestic partnership. I’m happiest when I have someone to care about- and he’s the most worthy man I’ve ever met.

Work is another slice of heaven. Happy customers and co-workers I adore. Compliments from the chef on my efforts as a server. I couldn’t love a job more if I were making six figures. Every day that I go to work, I pinch myself. At the old place I worked, if you needed help or asked for it, it was held against you as a personal failure. My boss was not helpful, regardless of the fact I was earning HIM money. He couldn’t be troubled to pause from texting to get out of your way, let alone help. He loves to stand next to you while you’re putting an order in and question you on all the tables in the room, without knowing if they’re your table or finished or whatever. It was a fucking nightmare. My new boss? Loves to help. They support us all wholeheartedly without question, and offer help whenever it gets busy or we get several tables at once.

I work with a smile on my face because I’m supporting a business that supports me… and what a difference it makes. I’m happy going to work. I don’t dread working with either of my bosses. They want to buy vegetables from me, because they’re smart and want to provide their customers with the best.

The biggest shock? My unemployment was denied from my old job because my SISTER told them I called my manager a cunt.

You know what? She is a cunt. That’s the gospel and they’re all full of shit if they don’t admit to saying and feeling the exact same way. To hear from the lady at unemployment that my SISTER was the one who took food out of a house her niece lives in? Deal breaker. I have nothing for her but contempt- and she can enjoy every suffering second of working with that cunt for the rest of time for all I care. She’s not welcome in our lives, and I can guarantee it’s a huge loss on her part. We’re thriving… while she’s still under the thumb of Miss Cunt Bag. More power to ya, sis- enjoy.

Me? I go to work looking lovely and clean. Dressed in black and surrounded by friends. Working with a group of people who are savvy professionals who know what management is. Blissed out while serving the best food in town. Amen.

I worked a slow shift last night, and counted the seconds until it was over purely because my dear Superman was cooking up some sort of surprise and the curiosity was killing me. I rushed home, excited to sink into the haven of the man I adore.

I drove in and the house was dark… and it was nearly 11 so I figured he may have fallen asleep.

Nope.

I opened the door and walked in to rose petals. I had to laugh a little… and followed the path to my room… where he’d recreated American Beauty on my bed. Thousands of pink petals (my favorite) candles burning everywhere and my sweet Superman… nearly asleep on my bed.

My God in heaven… I was speechless.

He grinned at me, sleepy quiet and happy to see me.

S- It seemed like a good idea but it was kinda cheesy after it was all said and done.

It’s not cheesy… it’s perfect. He’s amazing. I’m walking in from my first week at a new job that I love more than any job I’ve ever had, to the most amazing boyfriend I’ve ever heard of… and best of all?

He’s mine. ♥

I look back over the last month, in losing people I thought were my friends, in losing my closest sister, and a job I loathed working for people who couldn’t give a shit less about firing a single mom for taking dinner home and calling a spade a spade. I look at the douche bags who’ve used me to mop the floor and the stupid boys who would dare to fuck with the wordy princess. Nathan, Thomas… and good old James… I’ve really met my quota, and I’ve really offered my love to the wrong men.

But.

I found my Superman…. and I appreciate him like he deserves. I appreciate how amazing he is because I know what the other side of the coin looks like all too well. It’s one of those good old fashioned love stories… where the nice girl meets the nice guy and they live happily ever after.

Excuse my tiara… but when the perfect man insists you be treated like the princess you always wanted to be?

You smile, thank him graciously… and blow his damn mind with diamonds in your hair.

Forgive my slacking in blog-land… but I’m busy being the happiest I’ve ever been.

Ten inches off the ground

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I’m happier than I’ve ever been in my life. A month ago I was scared to death, pissed off and on the damn warpath. Washing my hands of the worst parts of my life and the people that made it harder.

Pausing. Gardening. Breathing.

Finding happiness in being alone. Swimming in solitude and realizing that I like my own company and being alone doesn’t have to equate to being lonely.

Burning a few douche bags & whores at the stake, and deservedly so. I don’t have time in my life for people who don’t give a shit about their character, honor and self respect. If someone doesn’t give a shit about their own personal worth? Why on earth would I? How on earth can anyone?

I’m worth so much more than a vagina hoarder or a Thomas Murray. I don’t like mice… why would I ever try to love one- or worse, think I could change a rodent into a man?

While I have a broad skill base- I don’t have a magic wand, and if I did? I wouldn’t waste it on a douche bag.

I washed the smell of hoarder off my hands and met a brand new girlfriend in the process. We bleached our hands together- and laughed when we realized that ultimately the Karma fairy is a funny woman, because in feeling betrayed you see a whole lot clearer than you do when you’re blinded by charm… or bullshit. We’re a lot alike <shocker, lol> and it’s going to be fun spending time with a new girlfriend.

So she lost a cheating boyfriend, and I lost a friend. The two of them deserve each other and my new girlfriend and I deserve better. It would have been sad if it hadn’t happened. The Karma fairy finally put her foot down and set us both free. Phew. Clever bitch that she is? She gave them the ultimate punishment. Each other. Lol…

But it gets even better. As it does when you’re striving to live your life well and trying to find peace in yourself instead of in any outside force or vice. I forced myself to stop and change everything. New job. Bike rides after dinner. Time spent in the garden and knitting. Getting rid of the excess garbage in my life, including people.

and I finally agreed to a date with my girlfriend’s brother… and was absolutely stunned by the most amazingly thoughtful man I’ve ever met, as a result.

He’s not just a little nice- he’s damn amazing.

I deleted all my internet dating profiles. I closed my little black book and threw it away.

I changed my relationship status on Facebook… and we all know it’s legit once that happens- because it’s damn hard to take that shit back.

He’s a male version of me. He’s thoughtful and offers to help me, compliments me and spoils me rotten with kindness. He calls to ask if I need anything from the grocery store- offers to drop off anything if my daughter needs it while I”m at work. I’m still at work after 11 last night and he offers to come over. I’m exhausted… but I’m also dying to see him. I tell him I have an hour before I’ll be out cold… and he laughs at me and tells me he’s just happy to see me.

I’m falling asleep when he comes in- and I don’t have the energy to fake it. I have on the most ridiculous outfit you’ve ever seen. My pink cupcake sweats, my “I’m on the naughty list” t-shirt and polka dot socks. I’m weary and yawning.

He walks in like the angel he is in my life. He brought another movie for me to watch if I’m exhausted the next day. He climbs on my bed and pulls me into his lap, laying my head on his leg while he massages my back- asking how my first night was.

I’m sleepy rambling about how much I love my new job, my coworkers… and just being treated like an adult in general. A whole different level of respect and actual management with a solid team of people all determined to work together to make it as good as it can be. His hands are running strong soothing paths down my spine. My sore muscles are melting back into squishy goodness as he asks me questions and tells me about his day. He’s easing the stress in my body while being emotionally supportive? I’m counting my lucky stars, and telling him just how thankful for him I am…and I fall asleep.

I woke up this morning, tucked in with a love note, feeling bad about falling asleep on him and thankful that he exists.

I promised myself I wouldn’t date. I climbed out of the pool…

But I’d be a damn fool if I didn’t do my best to be equally as wonderful to him as he is to me.

Life is looking pretty damn spectacular these days.

The Karma Fairy can be pretty damn amazing when she wants to be, and when you deserve it.

Sorry about your bad luck…

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I’m fed up with stupid people. I’m annoyed by idiots.

More than anything? I’m inconvenienced by the ignorant and I’m frustrated enough to vent a little.

I’m blissfully happy these days. Drowning in domestic bliss and completely sunburned from hours in the dirt and doing facials with my daughter and her best friend after their school dance.

Pizza and giggles. Aunt MSOK came over to do her hair magic and the two of us giggled in the middle of my acre of dirt. Holy shit it’s huge. She loves my design. I love her.

Life is made so much better by the friends that mean the most. She’s more than my friend, she’s my sister. She knows everything there is to know… even the big stuff. Even the stuff you don’t tell anyone…. and I wouldn’t have it any other way. I drive her insane whining about the same guy, and she works overtime to listen and burn his bridges to the ground- with truth.

Life is about spending it with people that love you, not people that judge you. I don’t have time for anyone who chooses to wear their judgy panties. No time at all… those bitches can hang out with the hoarders. They deserve each other.

That said. I’m about to get a little mad and a lot honest.

To my single friends. It’s very simple if you want to keep him/her.. It’s all about making them wonder if you like them or not. That’s all it is. Don’t respond to phone calls or texts. Don’t have sex with him or her. Torture them with your feigned disinterest based indecision… and wa-la! They’re all yours.  Yeah… fuck that tragic bit of post-highschool histrionics. I like sharks. I like men who see something they want and actively pursue it. I like men that value having exclusive rights. In other words… we have to play the crazy manipulative stalker card or we lose? No. Give me a skilled hunter gatherer, thanks.

Anytime, anywhere… as a woman… when you’re treated like a cheap paper napkin from the KFC drive-through? It hurts.When your sensitive lightweight napkin self has to continually float through his presence… it’s even worse. The moral of the story? If he treats you like a shitty napkin… look at him for the disease carrying controlled substance he is/should be. Wash your hands… with bleach. Pour the rest of the gallon in the bathtub and climb in. Sorry about your bad luck- you should have listened to that snake charmer story more closely…. because you’ve officially been charmed… by a snake. Until it’s on Facebook? It’s not real. Sorry about your bad luck again- if you’re not given the public nod? It’s because there are other women on his FB that he bangs… or wants to.

To the lady at the gas station, bank, bar, grocery store…etc… that hates me because I’m thinner, prettier, etc…than them. Fuck you. I was 265 lbs at my heaviest and I worked my ass off LITERALLY. I’d like to get back down to my goal weight because I enjoy the attention. So there. That’s honest. Wanna be hotter? Lose weight. Wanna open a new page on the menu? Don’t eat dessert, don’t have a drink and run to the grocery store instead of drive.

Nobody said it didn’t suck- and trust me, you’ll end up hating those naturally skinny bitches ten times more. Think about it though. They’re sober, exhausted and they date the worst of the worst of the douche bags because the GQ model guys are the biggest assholes of all time. Popped collar? No. In fact I think I threw up in my mouth a little just typing that. Beyond all that, don’t be a bitch. Don’t glare at me because you’re jealous. Sorry about your bad luck, try harder and FYI- Haterade is high in calories. Kick the habit, or better yet? Love yourself enough that you don’t have to hate anyone else because you don’t. Fix it or flaunt it- or fuck right off.

To my unhappily married friends… where do I even begin… oh I know. Leave each other the fuck alone. The rest of us are tired of hearing you bitch about it. Sorry it didn’t work out, sorry you hate each other now SHUT THE FUCK UP and break up already. Sorry he cheated, sorry you did, sorry you both ARE. I DON’T CARE!!! I shovel my own snow. I haul my own trash. I manage. I don’t love it and I’d love to be some spoiled chick with auto start and a heated driveway- but I’m not. So I shut up and do it. The same goes for marriage. If you signed on for eternal financial security and sex on demand- QUIT BITCHING. If you don’t want to sign on anymore, then sign the fuck out. It’s that simple. If you’re torturing each other you are wasting years of your lives being unhappy. More than that? You’re torturing the fuck out of everyone around you. Spare us if you don’t give a shit enough about yourselves anymore. Don’t fool yourself- we all think of ways to avoid hanging out with you because of it. Sorry about your bad luck, call a divorce attorney and end your marriage before your friends DIVORCE you. We’re over it.

To the shitty bosses… and really? Nothing is more disappointing. You miss spelling bees, dance recitals and your baby losing a tooth- only for the tooth fairy to have to fly to Grandma’s. You miss priceless moments in your life for these assholes and it doesn’t mean a thing. You’re the means to an end and just another name on the payroll. If you never came to work again, they wouldn’t notice. The hypocritical men and women that abuse the power they hold in being able to decimate your financial security. The boss that gossips and talks about the weight of his employees. The one that closes his eyes to it all. The one that is an overpowered monster and looks for your vulnerabilities.  The one who propositions you sexually. The one that drinks on the job. The one that makes everything worse when he’s on the floor. The one that hits on the customers. The one that doesn’t respect you enough to move out of your way. We’ve all had one. We all know “that” guy.

I’m sorry about your bad luck, it’s the social network/blog age and if you don’t treat people kindly or with some modicum of respect? They can have an opinion about that could make you look like the…well… jerk you are. As they say- opinions are like assholes, everyone has one. Unfortunately for the bad guys? Opinions are a lot louder now than they used to be. Fortunately- there’s a very simple way to solve all this. Be kind. Be appreciative. Be understanding and be considerate of how your choices affect the lives of others. Be thankful for the people who make your dreams come true, because in the end it wont matter how much money you made- it will matter what kind of character you built.

Come on… be less annoying and be more happy. ♥ Happy beats being pissed off, every time.

Oh Maya…

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When I started reading as an adult woman with small children, I started and always ended with Maya Angelou. I think she’s amazing and the words she spins together are as delicious as my favorite memory. One lazy summer Sunday, I was eating homemade vanilla ice cream out of a pint sized canning jar on a quilt with my newborn nursing baby, under the shade of the apple tree. Reading her words equate to my joy in that moment. Maya inspires me to write harder… or with more honesty. Even when people I dislike intensely are reading.

I told her once in a dream that I was frozen by judgement. She smiled at me and said the same thing my mama always says.

M- What someone else thinks about you is their business.

My mom knows more than Maya… but she’s happier in the garden than writing. I would like to think I’ve learned to balance the two, but I’m about to take a two week sabbatical that I CAN’T wait for. I need a solid two weeks with my feet in the dirt and my heart in the clouds.

I have someone very special in my life. He knows I’m not dating and he just sends me nice words, every day. He’s insulted by the lack of effort I make towards him and I can’t blame him. When I’m at a point that I can, I will, but for now I love him dearly- and I miss him daily. My mom would love him. Realizing that makes me narrow my eyes and question why I always equate nice with boring. He’s driven 2 hours on a seconds notice to kiss me and take me for chocolate cake and a glass of wine. I kind of… sort of…don’t share him. At all.

Which insults and offends him… though I tried to tell him he should be flattered. Some men would pay for me to not mention them. Most, actually. I can name two that may be willing to pay me to shut up.

He’s insulted that I don’t talk about wanting him… like I’ve spoken about craving someone else. He’s threatened it means I don’t adore him… worse than that? He thinks I’m ashamed of him.

I told him….

If I really love you, and I really treasure what you are to me. I keep you to myself. I hold you sacred and I love you personally, not publicly.

If I really love you? You’ll never read about our sex life on the internet.

You’re welcome.

The Last Straw

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Unfortunately my settings on one of these stupid dating sites has it chiming on my phone every time an email comes in, which is a lot. I finally sat down yesterday to change the settings in hopes of putting an end to the infernal distraction.

Success… oh and 22 new emails. I open the first one…

D- Hi.

That’s all. I see so many of these I just have to wonder what the hell these guys are thinking. You’re establishing contact with someone for the first time, hoping to spurn a response.

And all you’ve fucking got is Hi? Hello? Sup? Yo? Hey? I’ve seen them all and I never respond… but then you have to be a freak to ilicit a response from me because I’m only in it for the story at this point.

The playground is shut down for remodeling… and I’m a bored woman as a result. lol… I open the second email and it only gets better.

S-

4/28/2012 11:50:37 AM

Let me guess.. You found my profile more than a bit on the vulgar side.. Perhaps a bit disturbing as
well. you must have had a few glasses of wine to have even clicked on it.. I know your type.. Your a
mile above me.. And your clearly more than a bit too classy for my common ass.. but I might just
surprise you… And it’s not like I would expect you to tell your friends about me ;)

This guy has emailed me three times, and frankly; he’s repulsive. He’s not my type, I would really be being mean if I dated him.

What really stuns me, is that they make this assumption about me based on one picture, and one paragraph. Enough to insult me for not being interested in them.

They say women are crazy? Oh no. The penis-clad species is equally as crazy, if not more so, because they’re entitled to their jealousy. We’re supposed to understand that boys can be boys and “well you know he’s a man… he’s bound to be protective.

Turn those tables and you know what they call that girl? A date crasher. A stalker. A bunny boiler. Fatal attraction.

He’s protective, masculine, he just loves you a lot.

No. He’s a stalker and if I come up missing, check his house.

Yikers. A stalker is a stalker, is a stalker- and this guy is getting his panties in a bunch because he’s emailed me three times and I haven’t responded, but he can see that I viewed his profile.

Imagine him in real life. He’s the guy who stalks you daily, the one who wants to read your emails, look at your phone and account for every minute in your day and who you came in contact with. He “just stops by” and “just stays for the weekend”. Allowing this guy into your life is like petting a raccoon. They can imprint on you and follow you for life. They come in through windows, dog doors, chimneys. If they love you- they will do anything to be next to you.

It reminds me of fungus- no thanks.

The next email is a perfect example of why I’d really love to meet a nice woman every now and again. If anything inspires me to switch teams… it’s this guy.

USMC-

USMC

4/8/2012 12:18:29 AM
Wanna Chat
USMC

4/24/2012 10:59:16 PM
All girls like me I was in the military
USMC

4/24/2012 11:11:28 PM
And I have a very large penis

Yeah… he said that.

Like he actually expects a response finally that says “Oh well in that case, let’s chat” <eyeroll>

I don’t think I can even handle these internet retards any more. I may be officially ruined for men entirely.

Disgusted with the species… I signed out of the craziness that is meeting a date online.

I decided to make dinner and invite family over. My mama, her fabulous boyfriend, Sober One Kenobe and Mr. Man Card. My little princess.

Fresh pesto tortellini, asparagus, a green salad & garlic bread. Eclairs for dessert… with a glass of wine, around the kitchen table we’d pulled into the greenhouse and filled with spring flowers. It was a twinkly perfect evening full of the stuff that feels right. Family & friends and great food, laughing around the table in the light of white lights strung around the inside of the greenhouse with the smell of little tomatoes and flowers growing.

Internet dating cheapens what it’s supposed to be. You’re supposed to see a cute guy and smile. He’s supposed to ask for your number and you’re supposed to have dinner or something in this sort of circumstance. The twinkle lights are optional but I’d say they’re worth a few bonus points.

It’s supposed to be as good as dinner with your friends and family- it’s supposed to leave you smiling the next morning, washing a stack of dishes and throwing the tablecloth in the washer.

Internet dating is depressing- and that’s not what I’m looking for.

I can do without the creepy stalking oversharers.

I officially quit my internet presence as potential prey. I climbed out of the mud puddle.

……..and I feel cleaner already :)