Tag Archives: Shark

Conquering Frustration

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I’m annoyed… and frustrated…and consequently? Done with this whole dating nonsense for a while. I pulled out my knitting this morning, washed some dishes and put on a little black dress and my new black heels from my sister. Ahhh. That’s better. I work in flats every day and I hate it. I love this year of a dress & heels. I get back in touch with myself in a dress and heels. Happily feminine.

I’m happy alone- I’m damned annoyed with the men in my life. Collectively they aren’t enough. They don’t try to be- and that tells me I’m still making shitty choices.I’m overtly sexual, I’ve made peace with it. I’m determined to have the same from the man in my life. I really shouldn’t have to settle for a timid man- and if that means being alone… I’m happy to shovel my own snow. I want an equal, not a student and not a chicken.

My domestic princess has been unleashed and I don’t even know where to start. I’m making pear butter today, and knitting… and I’m so happy I could purr.I have to plant garlic this afternoon and it’s a beautiful sunny fall day. Blissed out from domesticity.

It’s ironic how easy it is as a single woman to get caught up in the silence of it all. Spending  half of your life as a mother of two, alone, is very strange. It’s easy to want to fill that time with a man. Any man.

If I’ve learned anything this summer, it’s that Any man isn’t what I want. Trying to fill the space of someone you love with Anyone else just doesn’t work. It’s like going to an Indian food festival. <in my opinion> You’ll eat, sure, but a lot of it tastes like shit and you’ll wish you hadn’t wasted your time.

I’d rather go home hungry than eat Indian food… yuck…but I digress…

Trying to like someone purely to let someone else go is pointless. It only makes it worse. I think it’s better to just deal with it- face it and be sad about it for a while… and let it go on your own terms- and not at anyone else’s expense.

Least of all your own.

I lied

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I don’t hate presents… it’s the act of opening a gift in front of the person who bought it for you. I hate that part. I’m incredibly gracious and thankful- but I hate that whole experience.

Occasionally I get an email asking where someone can send me a gift. Something came in the mail today.

Cute huh? Not to mention… Boobs for Brian- who felt robbed by the Boobies post. I hope this will suffice!

Thank you Stacy- I love it- and the note that was attached too.

Dear Jenni,

Saw this and felt you should wear it with pride. I hope you give your fins another spin in the tank with the right shark. I love reading about the close calls.

Stacy

Too nice.

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It’s that time again.

Mea Culpa

The crappy situation with Mr. Boyfriend is completely my fault. I should have been more clear about needing my space. I did have a great time with him- but he seriously choked the life out of it. You can’t compliment someone constantly. It starts to make them feel uncomfortable. There has to be a balance- and there wasn’t one in this situation. He’s the nicest guy I’ve ever dated- literally- but. I feel caged. I feel a little too pursued. I feel suffocated.

I miss being single. I don’t think I knew what I was getting into. I don’t have time to be this important to someone. I don’t want to disappoint someone because I have friends I want to hang out with. I want my space and my freedom, back. I don’t intend to give it away for a while.

and when I do? I’m going to be a little smarter after being with him because I know that nice guys do exist, and I know that it’s wonderful to have someone be nice to you, and accept you just as you are. It’s worth holding out for. We all deserve it if we make the same effort to be a good partner.He was nothing but nice to me.

But….

My life went from being completely my own to talking to someone EVERY day. I was on overload. The whole thing went from 0-60 in a second. I didn’t have time to catch my breath, and I wasn’t sure what to say. He got pissy with me for not wanting him to touch me in public… I went from being single, to being someone’s property…

and I didn’t like it… but I did like him- and I didn’t intend to hurt him. MEA CULPA. My fault, but how on earth do you say to someone “I don’t like being someone’s girlfriend” ??? I don’t know. Certainly in a nicer way than I did.

Lesson learned & the most sincere of apologies for my being a bitch… but dude…Mr. Boyfriend… Listen up.

You decided to read my blog and I’m really sorry if that’s hurt your feelings… but I’m sure you’ve heard to be careful what you wish for, cause you just might get it. You went looking for answers- and got them. Shocker, huh? Putting me in the position to have to ask you to ease up, on a few different occasions, and when we’ve only been dating for 3 weeks? Over the top.

Asking me to call you so you can walk up and meet me at my car to avoid me walking down town alone? We’re talking 2 blocks. Hmm. I get where you’re going with it- but you need to hear loudly how annoying that is. I’m 34, not 18. I’ve been divorced since 2003 and not seeing anyone since November 09. I walk alone. I’m not afraid. I don’t need a man to walk me around, and if I do want you to? I’ll ask. I own my own power tools. I don’t need help with everything. I gave up on the idea of the knight on a white horse a looooong time ago. Relax…and don’t ever call your girlfriend Woman. Ugh. That’s truly offensive- even though it’s an accurate distinction. I didn’t call you because I don’t know what to say.

No we’re not going to keep dating. You read my journal now. I’d be tempted too often to hurt you with it. You’d read about the Shark and be fucking furious… and you’d never know if I was making it up or not. You’d go crazy wondering and you’d drive me insane. Ultimately you just wont listen to me… and thinking about you searching for my blog? Makes me feel like I had a stalker, not a boyfriend.

Sorry. Mea Culpa.

Frustrated

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I worked this afternoon in a cute little St. Pauli’s girl shirt, since today was our local Oktoberfest. It was somewhat miserable to wear, to be honest. White polyester, low cut and ruffly. Like a mini-greenhouse beer maid. Cute to look at, not to inhabit. Ugh.

One missed call.

Fuck.

The worst kind of missed call.

As tempted as I am to answer it, I can’t… I’m at work. DAMN IT.

Radio Silence. I toe the line carefully because I can’t fucking stand the stalking sensation I get every time I see Mr. Boyfriend’s number on my phone.

It’s so incredibly frustrating and it’s not supposed to be like that. It’s supposed to be exciting. The feeling I get when I see Sinful or Smarty flashing across the screen on my phone. Heaven. Pure adrenalin frosted excitement. Almost as good as hearing their voices.

Being tantalized is better than any drug. Women live for these moments- and they are what keep us in love with you. You have to wow us in the beginning or it’s doomed. If we don’t miss you, think about you or want you constantly…. it’s doomed.

Being frustrated is certainly similar to being tantalized. I’m afraid I confused the two when it came to the shark. I love Sinful for the simplicity he offers, without all the bullshit player attitude I got from the Shark. Sinful isn’t afraid to say he missed me- he’s a man-Shark. I love the thought of progressive Sharks. There’s no telling how good he could be.

Which is where Smarty comes in. I woke up to his text messages… some of them platonic, and some of them downright racy…

S- I hope you’re serving for Trivia this week.

J- Oh hell- I hope so too, the bar sucks that night and I’ll do anything to get away from the whipped cream.

S- I don’t know, I’d love to see you with the whipped cream.

Hello and good morning. I’m sleepy tired- having come home frustrated and annoyed… couldn’t write anything but whiny bullshit, and had gone to bed too late. Tired. Whiny…but wide awake now. Smarty wears cashmere… which I know because he’d just gotten his sweater back from the dry-cleaners. I’m a cashmere whore and I treasure my sweaters. I’m horrified I sprayed him with whipped cream.Blah blah blah… the reality?

He’s a shark- I know it- and I’m damn entertained. Craving something sinful and enjoying the smart man who’s busy tantalizing me with perfect spelling & punctuation. <shiver> I am such a geek sometimes.

A damn satisfied geek, for a woman who just shook the boyfriend to end all…stalkers.