The last hours of 2011 are ticking away. Despite all of the amazingly good things that happened, I'm struggling not to chalk it up as a loss due to one measly thing.
I spent every single day in love with first one man, then another; both belonging to someone else.
Fortunately, I don't have the mental energy needed to evaluate why it happened. But I will commit every available brain cell to making sure a single day, let alone a whole year, like this never happens again.
Surprisingly, a few of my closest friends have questioned my decision to eventually walk away from these two men. While the decisions were unbelievably painful, they were also unbelievably necessary.
I wholeheartedly subscribe to the concept of the universe. It's responsible for the cyclical nature of our lives - we get back what we put out.
Not only did I spend every day in love with their men, I also spent it extremely embarrassed. Not at what they (the men, my friends, etc.) thought, but what it thought. The universe was definitely laughing at my ordeal. "Why should I give her an available man (with the same or even better qualities than this one) when she's accepting the man who's not available?," it chuckled.
But all that is over now. I won't accept the role they were both offering. I know the universe has my back on this. Beginning this very moment, it will once again know that I will only allow someone to enter my life who is just as available as I am.
Welcoming all that 2012 has to offer with open arms...
Showing posts with label Love. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Love. Show all posts
Friday, December 30, 2011
Tuesday, November 29, 2011
Je ne sais quoi
A few months ago, a colleague selected me to be next player in her own personal matchmaking game. She directed an old pal of hers to our employer's website so he could check out my picture. Little did she know, however, my prominently placed picture was replaced with something else. Her initial quest dissolved into thin air.
Never one to give up without a fight, she resurrected her trivial pursuit several weeks ago. After exchanging a handful of emails, texts, and phone calls, we had our first date just over a week ago. On a scale of 1 (worst) to 10 (best), I'd give the date a 7. But it was clear that no second date was (or ever would be) in the works. I definitely felt that way and I'm sure he did too.
I'll see the (now former) colleague for the first time since her failed matchmaking attempt later this week. I won't bring him up, but I'm sure she will. I predict that at some point she'll want clarification on what 'type' of guy I'm looking for.
Problem is - I don't have a type.
Well, he must be African-American and height/weight proportionate, but that's it.
This may very well explain why I'm 33 and still unbelievably single, but my type embodies that je ne sais quoi. That French phrase literally means 'I don't know what'. But it's also widely known as referring to a certain something that makes someone appealing.
My type has it. He has that something something that is distinctive and attractive in a subtle way. A way that can not be seen, only felt - like electricity, wind, and well, love.
Surely she won't understand; but I do and so will he.
Never one to give up without a fight, she resurrected her trivial pursuit several weeks ago. After exchanging a handful of emails, texts, and phone calls, we had our first date just over a week ago. On a scale of 1 (worst) to 10 (best), I'd give the date a 7. But it was clear that no second date was (or ever would be) in the works. I definitely felt that way and I'm sure he did too.
I'll see the (now former) colleague for the first time since her failed matchmaking attempt later this week. I won't bring him up, but I'm sure she will. I predict that at some point she'll want clarification on what 'type' of guy I'm looking for.
Problem is - I don't have a type.
Well, he must be African-American and height/weight proportionate, but that's it.
This may very well explain why I'm 33 and still unbelievably single, but my type embodies that je ne sais quoi. That French phrase literally means 'I don't know what'. But it's also widely known as referring to a certain something that makes someone appealing.
My type has it. He has that something something that is distinctive and attractive in a subtle way. A way that can not be seen, only felt - like electricity, wind, and well, love.
Surely she won't understand; but I do and so will he.
Wednesday, November 23, 2011
How to Meet a Guy at Thumbs Up
(Originally posted to my MySpace page on December 16, 2006.)
Jada and I decided to meet @ Thumbs Up on Edgewood late this morning for brunch. If you live in the ATL, you know that Thumbs Up on a Sunday is a happenin' spot and the wait to be seated is in the 60 minute range. Well, we didn't mind the wait because it was an unseasonably warm day and we could use the time to catch up on each other's lives.
So we're sitting/standing outside just shooting the breeze and talking 'bout folks when this HOT, tall, chocolately brother (known here on out as Hot Chocolate) walks towards us. I gave Jada the heads up so she could check him out too. As he came closer, my dumb a** stares at his shoes (a good indicator of what kind of guy he is) instead of staring directly at him. Shortly thereafter Jada told me he was checking me out as I was checking out his shoes. Anyway, there's a cute little coffee shop next to Thumbs Up and that's where Hot Chocolate was headed while he and his (male) friend endured the hour wait. He went in the coffee shop and Jada and I immediately began a strategy session about how to get his attention. "Ask him what time it is," Jada whispered. But he came out too quickly and again I missed the head nod that he apparently gave me. Lucky for me, he came back to the coffee shop a few minutes later. At the time, Jada and I were in deep conversation about how to appropriately wear footless tights. When he came out of the coffee shop for the second time, I opened my mouth to ask him what kind of drink he got (I'm such a dork!), when he chastised Jada and I for talking about this girl across the street's tights. He came over and joined us, just making small talk about this and that. He left after a few minutes and that was it...or so I thought!
So about a 1/2 hour later it was finally our turn to be seated. Jada and I ordered and ate our meal and had a good time enjoying each others company. But I just couldn't let the opportunity to meet this guy pass. So all of a sudden I came up with the boldest idea of my adult life! I flagged down our waitress, pointed out Hot Chocolate and asked her to go find out if he and his friend had already paid their check. She came back and told me that they hadn't paid yet. I asked her to bring me his check and I gave her the money for it and wrote a note on the back for him. The note said, "You'll have to call me to thank me!" with my name and number! Oh my! That's SO unlike me. :) The server then took the check/note back over to him and Jada and I just set back and waited to see what was going to happen.
A few moments later his friend got up, put money down on the counter and walked outside. Then, Hot Chocolate got up...and came towards our table! I was freakin' out! He said "Hello, may I speak to Tia?" and my dumb a** pointed to Haillie! He went along w/the act and introduced himself to Haillie. Then Jada stepped in and pointed to me. He then introduced himself to me and said, "I just wanted to say Thank You." He could've stopped there, but he went on to say something along the lines of wanting to take me out to thank me some more. I was only half listening because I was in shock that little 'ole me actually did something like this! We all got up to leave then and him and I exchanged a few more words (which I don't remember) before we parted ways.
Even if Hot Chocolate never calls me, it doesn't matter! I'm so proud of myself for being bold and putting myself out there w/out fear of being shot down. I'm so sick of people being scared of the unknown! Be bold, people! You never know what may happen. The best part of all this is I was rushing out of the house to meet Jada and threw on my fave pair of Target (Mossimo) jeans, dirty sneakers, and wrinkled 'AIDS Walk 2004' t-shirt; in other words I looked a hot mess! But still I had enough confidence to step to this guy! How' bout that?!
Here's wishin' all of my girls out there the courage and confidence to approach ANY guy at ANY time...especially at Thumbs Up diner!
Jada and I decided to meet @ Thumbs Up on Edgewood late this morning for brunch. If you live in the ATL, you know that Thumbs Up on a Sunday is a happenin' spot and the wait to be seated is in the 60 minute range. Well, we didn't mind the wait because it was an unseasonably warm day and we could use the time to catch up on each other's lives.
So we're sitting/standing outside just shooting the breeze and talking 'bout folks when this HOT, tall, chocolately brother (known here on out as Hot Chocolate) walks towards us. I gave Jada the heads up so she could check him out too. As he came closer, my dumb a** stares at his shoes (a good indicator of what kind of guy he is) instead of staring directly at him. Shortly thereafter Jada told me he was checking me out as I was checking out his shoes. Anyway, there's a cute little coffee shop next to Thumbs Up and that's where Hot Chocolate was headed while he and his (male) friend endured the hour wait. He went in the coffee shop and Jada and I immediately began a strategy session about how to get his attention. "Ask him what time it is," Jada whispered. But he came out too quickly and again I missed the head nod that he apparently gave me. Lucky for me, he came back to the coffee shop a few minutes later. At the time, Jada and I were in deep conversation about how to appropriately wear footless tights. When he came out of the coffee shop for the second time, I opened my mouth to ask him what kind of drink he got (I'm such a dork!), when he chastised Jada and I for talking about this girl across the street's tights. He came over and joined us, just making small talk about this and that. He left after a few minutes and that was it...or so I thought!
So about a 1/2 hour later it was finally our turn to be seated. Jada and I ordered and ate our meal and had a good time enjoying each others company. But I just couldn't let the opportunity to meet this guy pass. So all of a sudden I came up with the boldest idea of my adult life! I flagged down our waitress, pointed out Hot Chocolate and asked her to go find out if he and his friend had already paid their check. She came back and told me that they hadn't paid yet. I asked her to bring me his check and I gave her the money for it and wrote a note on the back for him. The note said, "You'll have to call me to thank me!" with my name and number! Oh my! That's SO unlike me. :) The server then took the check/note back over to him and Jada and I just set back and waited to see what was going to happen.
A few moments later his friend got up, put money down on the counter and walked outside. Then, Hot Chocolate got up...and came towards our table! I was freakin' out! He said "Hello, may I speak to Tia?" and my dumb a** pointed to Haillie! He went along w/the act and introduced himself to Haillie. Then Jada stepped in and pointed to me. He then introduced himself to me and said, "I just wanted to say Thank You." He could've stopped there, but he went on to say something along the lines of wanting to take me out to thank me some more. I was only half listening because I was in shock that little 'ole me actually did something like this! We all got up to leave then and him and I exchanged a few more words (which I don't remember) before we parted ways.
Even if Hot Chocolate never calls me, it doesn't matter! I'm so proud of myself for being bold and putting myself out there w/out fear of being shot down. I'm so sick of people being scared of the unknown! Be bold, people! You never know what may happen. The best part of all this is I was rushing out of the house to meet Jada and threw on my fave pair of Target (Mossimo) jeans, dirty sneakers, and wrinkled 'AIDS Walk 2004' t-shirt; in other words I looked a hot mess! But still I had enough confidence to step to this guy! How' bout that?!
Here's wishin' all of my girls out there the courage and confidence to approach ANY guy at ANY time...especially at Thumbs Up diner!
Tuesday, November 22, 2011
The Day My Bra Died
(Originally posted to my MySpace page on March 4, 2007.)
R.I.P.
On Thursday, March 1, 2007 at approximately 9:12am, my beloved black Maidenform bra with the lace straps passed away. I was, and still am, deeply saddened by its death. I probably would've cried, but I was standing in front of a group of 3rd graders at the time and it's just not right to see your teacher cry. My bra had actually been sick for several days prior; I knew it would soon cross over, but I was hoping that it would at least last until the weekend. Just that morning, I looked at the strap that was clinging on by one last thread and sent up a silent prayer for it.
Those that know me well know that I have an excess of clothes. I own 29 pairs of jeans but only wear 4. Same with shoes, I have enough to fill an extremely large IKEA bin plus some, but only wear 2 pairs...yes 2! Bras - same thing. I have a drawer full - every brand, color, style. Yet, with jeans, shoes, and other things - each morning for the past year +, I've grabbed that same black Maidenform with the lace straps.
Please don't be disgusted, I washed the bra fairly often! :)
I don't know why I wore the same bra each day (no matter what color my panties were). Maybe it's because I was just lazy and didn't feel like rifling through the bra drawer for another one. But if I'm really getting down to the 'Heart of the Matter', I would say the bra brought me comfort in more forms than just holding up my rack. That bra was the one thing that remained constant in my life. It was the one thing I could count on every single day. I knew that each morning it would be laying on the floor beside my bed waiting for me. It's been through a handful of loser men. It's been through a job change and an acquisition of a now 4 year old.
The saying "Don't put your eggs in one basket" comes to mind in this situation. Except it would be "Don't put your boobs in one bra." Beginning tomorrow, I'm going to find the courage to open that bra drawer and try something new! Heck, next weekend I may even wear a pair of jeans that've been folded up for months and pair them with those cute blue Steve Maddens I bought a while ago!
Or maybe I should just pack up some boxes for the Salvation Army, grab one of my gals, and head out in search of a replacement for the black Maidenform!
R.I.P.
On Thursday, March 1, 2007 at approximately 9:12am, my beloved black Maidenform bra with the lace straps passed away. I was, and still am, deeply saddened by its death. I probably would've cried, but I was standing in front of a group of 3rd graders at the time and it's just not right to see your teacher cry. My bra had actually been sick for several days prior; I knew it would soon cross over, but I was hoping that it would at least last until the weekend. Just that morning, I looked at the strap that was clinging on by one last thread and sent up a silent prayer for it.
Those that know me well know that I have an excess of clothes. I own 29 pairs of jeans but only wear 4. Same with shoes, I have enough to fill an extremely large IKEA bin plus some, but only wear 2 pairs...yes 2! Bras - same thing. I have a drawer full - every brand, color, style. Yet, with jeans, shoes, and other things - each morning for the past year +, I've grabbed that same black Maidenform with the lace straps.
Please don't be disgusted, I washed the bra fairly often! :)
I don't know why I wore the same bra each day (no matter what color my panties were). Maybe it's because I was just lazy and didn't feel like rifling through the bra drawer for another one. But if I'm really getting down to the 'Heart of the Matter', I would say the bra brought me comfort in more forms than just holding up my rack. That bra was the one thing that remained constant in my life. It was the one thing I could count on every single day. I knew that each morning it would be laying on the floor beside my bed waiting for me. It's been through a handful of loser men. It's been through a job change and an acquisition of a now 4 year old.
The saying "Don't put your eggs in one basket" comes to mind in this situation. Except it would be "Don't put your boobs in one bra." Beginning tomorrow, I'm going to find the courage to open that bra drawer and try something new! Heck, next weekend I may even wear a pair of jeans that've been folded up for months and pair them with those cute blue Steve Maddens I bought a while ago!
Or maybe I should just pack up some boxes for the Salvation Army, grab one of my gals, and head out in search of a replacement for the black Maidenform!
Monday, November 21, 2011
My Most Favorite Ex
(Originally posted to my MySpace page on April 28, 2007.)
During a recent bout with temporary insanity I came up with the 'great' idea of contacting him again after more than four months. For the record, I was not interested in getting back together with him. I simply wanted to know how he was doing. How's your daughter? How's life at the station? Are you connected; if so, does she treat you right? (India fans will surely recognize that last line.)
One message via this here great site rapidly led to a few more which led to a few exchanged phone calls. We even took it one step further by deciding to get together to take our girls to the park. Talking to and seeing him again honestly felt good.
After dating man after man for the past 11 years, I must say that he just narrowly beats out someone else (now that's a whole 'nother blog!) for the title of 'My Most Favorite Ex'.
Our relationship didn't work out, obviously. But that doesn't mean that I have to think about our situation in a negative way. He's 'My Most Favorite Ex' simply because I love who he his; who he is doesn't change now that we're not together. Well that may not be true. He may be an even better person now; especially if he learned a lesson or two from our relationship and ones since then and made changes accordingly.
While I think he is wonderful in just about every way, I know that someday very soon I'm going to finally meet the man of my dreams. Only then will I truly realize that what I now think is 'wonderful' actually was nothing much at all. But until that day comes, I will treasure my memories of him and keep on wishing him nothing but the best.
During a recent bout with temporary insanity I came up with the 'great' idea of contacting him again after more than four months. For the record, I was not interested in getting back together with him. I simply wanted to know how he was doing. How's your daughter? How's life at the station? Are you connected; if so, does she treat you right? (India fans will surely recognize that last line.)
One message via this here great site rapidly led to a few more which led to a few exchanged phone calls. We even took it one step further by deciding to get together to take our girls to the park. Talking to and seeing him again honestly felt good.
After dating man after man for the past 11 years, I must say that he just narrowly beats out someone else (now that's a whole 'nother blog!) for the title of 'My Most Favorite Ex'.
Our relationship didn't work out, obviously. But that doesn't mean that I have to think about our situation in a negative way. He's 'My Most Favorite Ex' simply because I love who he his; who he is doesn't change now that we're not together. Well that may not be true. He may be an even better person now; especially if he learned a lesson or two from our relationship and ones since then and made changes accordingly.
While I think he is wonderful in just about every way, I know that someday very soon I'm going to finally meet the man of my dreams. Only then will I truly realize that what I now think is 'wonderful' actually was nothing much at all. But until that day comes, I will treasure my memories of him and keep on wishing him nothing but the best.
Sunday, November 20, 2011
Deuce of Spades
(Originally posted to my MySpace page on July 21, 2007.)
Happy Anniversary to me, Happy Anniversary to me, Happy Anniversary to me, Happy Anniversary to me! Whew - what an interesting 11 years it's been. This summer marks my 11th year in the dating world. As you all know, God has not yet disclosed which lucky man is going to be 'The One' for me. I'm cool with that...for now, because I know that the big reveal is coming really, really, really (yes three!) soon.
Although I'm not yet eligible to be a contestant on The Newlywed Game, I have compiled my fair share of witty answers to the queries dating brings. Women of the world, listen up; I'm about to share something that I know for sure.
When it's dealt, pay extra special attention to the deuce of spades. For those of you that dabble in the great card game Spades, you know that that card is the third best thing to have in your hand. You know - joker, joker, deuce. But I'm not talking about a card, I'm talking about a man - someone to have around as your third best thing. If you're at the same point in life as me, your first best thing slot is still unoccupied. Your second best slot may or may not be assigned; I consider this thing to be the one who you were oh-so-close to taking the plunge with (or at least discussing it a minimum of once, even if you both were drunk). But your deuce of spades, your third best thing, needs to be allocated to someone from your past immediately, if you haven't done so already.
The main purpose of your deuce of spades is to play the role of boyfriend (I prefer without benefits, but do as you please) when you're between boyfriends. I've found that it's healthy to talk to deuce about two or three times a week and to see him about once or twice a month. Phone and/or text conversations are somewhere in between "How's it going?" and "What's the meaning of life?". Face-to-face interactions shouldn't take place at your pad or his, but rather in a fun environment (preferably with alcohol available) that forces each to be amicable, but also allows for the occasional round of grab-ass.
I love my deuce of spades to death and can't imagine giving him up. I've been single for over a year and he consistently fills the void I sometimes feel. I'm lucky enough to have a handful of fantastic female friends, but nothing beats the sound of a man on the other end of the phone - asking "How was your day?" or "How do you feel about my **** and your ***** becoming reacquainted?", ahhhhhh...pure bliss! :)
So ladies, just as you pay special attention to the deuce of spades when it's dealt in a card game, pay even more attention to it when it's dealt in your dating game. Hold him close, but not too close and don't let him go until the identity of the first best thing is divulged.
Happy Anniversary to me, Happy Anniversary to me, Happy Anniversary to me, Happy Anniversary to me! Whew - what an interesting 11 years it's been. This summer marks my 11th year in the dating world. As you all know, God has not yet disclosed which lucky man is going to be 'The One' for me. I'm cool with that...for now, because I know that the big reveal is coming really, really, really (yes three!) soon.
Although I'm not yet eligible to be a contestant on The Newlywed Game, I have compiled my fair share of witty answers to the queries dating brings. Women of the world, listen up; I'm about to share something that I know for sure.
When it's dealt, pay extra special attention to the deuce of spades. For those of you that dabble in the great card game Spades, you know that that card is the third best thing to have in your hand. You know - joker, joker, deuce. But I'm not talking about a card, I'm talking about a man - someone to have around as your third best thing. If you're at the same point in life as me, your first best thing slot is still unoccupied. Your second best slot may or may not be assigned; I consider this thing to be the one who you were oh-so-close to taking the plunge with (or at least discussing it a minimum of once, even if you both were drunk). But your deuce of spades, your third best thing, needs to be allocated to someone from your past immediately, if you haven't done so already.
The main purpose of your deuce of spades is to play the role of boyfriend (I prefer without benefits, but do as you please) when you're between boyfriends. I've found that it's healthy to talk to deuce about two or three times a week and to see him about once or twice a month. Phone and/or text conversations are somewhere in between "How's it going?" and "What's the meaning of life?". Face-to-face interactions shouldn't take place at your pad or his, but rather in a fun environment (preferably with alcohol available) that forces each to be amicable, but also allows for the occasional round of grab-ass.
I love my deuce of spades to death and can't imagine giving him up. I've been single for over a year and he consistently fills the void I sometimes feel. I'm lucky enough to have a handful of fantastic female friends, but nothing beats the sound of a man on the other end of the phone - asking "How was your day?" or "How do you feel about my **** and your ***** becoming reacquainted?", ahhhhhh...pure bliss! :)
So ladies, just as you pay special attention to the deuce of spades when it's dealt in a card game, pay even more attention to it when it's dealt in your dating game. Hold him close, but not too close and don't let him go until the identity of the first best thing is divulged.
Sunday, October 30, 2011
Bittersweet
I can't get enough of Adele's 'Someone Like You'. Especially...
"Nothing compares, no worries or cares
Regrets and mistakes, they're memories made
Who would have known how bittersweet this would taste?"
Ooooohhhh, that last line. Whew.
It's funny how your memory works. (Like, you know your mama whooped you as a child, but you can't remember the pain.) Memories of men gone by are vague. Maybe it's because of that or maybe it's because I was one of the lucky ones and never experienced it in the first place - either way, I have no memory of something as bittersweet as this very moment.
He came into my life for an extremely clear (to me) reason; for that I'll forever be grateful. While I tip my hat to my creator for packaging my saving grace from the most horrible dating situation of my life in such a yummy and mentally-stimulating way...it still tastes so unbelievably bittersweet.
Why couldn’t he at least stay for a season? (If I had it my way, he would stay for a lifetime).
Okay, I get the fact that his purpose was to show me that there are still wonderful men out there and I didn’t have to settle for what the previous one was offering. Knowing that is sweet, so sweet.
But the bitter comes in because of just how wonderful he is. He’s what dreams are made of. Oh why can’t my dreams become a reality?
Hmmm, maybe there's hope for that after all. Adele continues...
"Nevermind I'll find someone like you..."
And I will; no doubt about it.
Perhaps this doesn't taste bittersweet at all. Maybe it's neutral; a palate-cleanser, like pickled ginger on a plate of sushi. I guess I have no choice but to sit back and wait for the next course.
"Nothing compares, no worries or cares
Regrets and mistakes, they're memories made
Who would have known how bittersweet this would taste?"
Ooooohhhh, that last line. Whew.
It's funny how your memory works. (Like, you know your mama whooped you as a child, but you can't remember the pain.) Memories of men gone by are vague. Maybe it's because of that or maybe it's because I was one of the lucky ones and never experienced it in the first place - either way, I have no memory of something as bittersweet as this very moment.
He came into my life for an extremely clear (to me) reason; for that I'll forever be grateful. While I tip my hat to my creator for packaging my saving grace from the most horrible dating situation of my life in such a yummy and mentally-stimulating way...it still tastes so unbelievably bittersweet.
Why couldn’t he at least stay for a season? (If I had it my way, he would stay for a lifetime).
Okay, I get the fact that his purpose was to show me that there are still wonderful men out there and I didn’t have to settle for what the previous one was offering. Knowing that is sweet, so sweet.
But the bitter comes in because of just how wonderful he is. He’s what dreams are made of. Oh why can’t my dreams become a reality?
Hmmm, maybe there's hope for that after all. Adele continues...
"Nevermind I'll find someone like you..."
And I will; no doubt about it.
Perhaps this doesn't taste bittersweet at all. Maybe it's neutral; a palate-cleanser, like pickled ginger on a plate of sushi. I guess I have no choice but to sit back and wait for the next course.
Friday, October 14, 2011
For you, on your birthday
Today you are 40.
But to me, you are also so much more.
You're quite possibly the most covertly-funny man I've ever met. I already laugh a lot, but the amount was substantially boosted during every conversation with you. You're funny in a natural, rather than "Hey, let me tell you a joke!", kind of way. I wish you a lifetime of laughter.
You're as mentally-stimulating as one person can possibly be. You caused and even encouraged me to consider multiple points of view and deeply reflect on various aspects of life. But none of that beat the task of comparing and contrasting the Booty Warrior news clip to the corresponding Boondocks episode. I'm certainly a better person because of that. I wish you a lifetime of experiences and conversations that also stimulate your mind.
You're (in the words of Roald Dahl) scrumpdiddlyumptious! From the top of your bald head, to your sock-clad feet, and everything in between - my only reaction is "Yes, please." I try to keep this blog as PG-13 as possible, so let's just stop there. I wish you a lifetime as the recipient of second glances.
You're a model member of your fraternity. You also believe that we should work much harder than we play. You're active with the organization, but not to the point that it completely overtakes your life. You also are the type of member that supports neighboring chapters, even if they are not directly related to your own. I wish you a lifetime of reflections on and appreciations of the events at Thirkield Hall 100 years ago.
You're one of the smartest men I know. Two Masters degrees alone doesn't make you so, even if one is from NATS. The way you consistently apply that gained knowledge to the world around you is certainly a treat to witness. I wish you a lifetime of getting the answer to Final Jeopardy correct.
You're also dependable, driven, and kind. But I'll bring this to a close. Heck, there's a good chance your (beautiful) eyes may never even read these words. Besides, this is not anything you don't already know.
Happy Birthday...and many more.
But to me, you are also so much more.
You're quite possibly the most covertly-funny man I've ever met. I already laugh a lot, but the amount was substantially boosted during every conversation with you. You're funny in a natural, rather than "Hey, let me tell you a joke!", kind of way. I wish you a lifetime of laughter.
You're as mentally-stimulating as one person can possibly be. You caused and even encouraged me to consider multiple points of view and deeply reflect on various aspects of life. But none of that beat the task of comparing and contrasting the Booty Warrior news clip to the corresponding Boondocks episode. I'm certainly a better person because of that. I wish you a lifetime of experiences and conversations that also stimulate your mind.
You're (in the words of Roald Dahl) scrumpdiddlyumptious! From the top of your bald head, to your sock-clad feet, and everything in between - my only reaction is "Yes, please." I try to keep this blog as PG-13 as possible, so let's just stop there. I wish you a lifetime as the recipient of second glances.
You're a model member of your fraternity. You also believe that we should work much harder than we play. You're active with the organization, but not to the point that it completely overtakes your life. You also are the type of member that supports neighboring chapters, even if they are not directly related to your own. I wish you a lifetime of reflections on and appreciations of the events at Thirkield Hall 100 years ago.
You're one of the smartest men I know. Two Masters degrees alone doesn't make you so, even if one is from NATS. The way you consistently apply that gained knowledge to the world around you is certainly a treat to witness. I wish you a lifetime of getting the answer to Final Jeopardy correct.
You're also dependable, driven, and kind. But I'll bring this to a close. Heck, there's a good chance your (beautiful) eyes may never even read these words. Besides, this is not anything you don't already know.
Happy Birthday...and many more.
Friday, September 2, 2011
Best Thing I Never Had
Late last year, I crossed something off the 'Things I'd Never Do' list. I made a conscious decision to date a man who was already in a relationship.
Do I feel guilty? No. Do I regret it? No. Am I so unbelievably happy it's over? Yes.
I use the term "dating" quite loosely in this situation. He lives 3.5 hours from here; as a result, we only saw each other on 5 separate occasions. We held phone conversations quite often early on, but those fell back to 1 - 2 times a week after that.
But despite the infrequency of our face-to-face contact, he still turned out to be the 'Best Thing I Never Had'. (If you've turned on the radio at any point over the past month, you'll recognize that as the title of Beyonce's latest song.)
Yes this is a blog, but I honestly find it impossible to find the words to explain why I was drawn to this man enough to do something I previously thought I'd never do. Truthfully, I don't want to find the words. He also felt the magical connection between us and I actually like the fact that no one will be able to understand why we did what we did. "Why" actually doesn't even matter.
What does matter is that I can walk away with from this situation, a) with my head held high (and tears fully dried), and b) with the confidence that this will never happen again.
Have an honest conversation with any single Black male or female and the topic of "the ratio" will eventually come up. But even though the number of available Black men is disappointingly low, never again will I feel the need to share one. The situation is just not that dire.
You'll never hear me spew even one bad comment about him. He truly was the best thing I never had; to this day I think he's thoughtful, humorous, intellectual, kind, and unbelievably yummy.
But so am I.
Do I feel guilty? No. Do I regret it? No. Am I so unbelievably happy it's over? Yes.
I use the term "dating" quite loosely in this situation. He lives 3.5 hours from here; as a result, we only saw each other on 5 separate occasions. We held phone conversations quite often early on, but those fell back to 1 - 2 times a week after that.
But despite the infrequency of our face-to-face contact, he still turned out to be the 'Best Thing I Never Had'. (If you've turned on the radio at any point over the past month, you'll recognize that as the title of Beyonce's latest song.)
Yes this is a blog, but I honestly find it impossible to find the words to explain why I was drawn to this man enough to do something I previously thought I'd never do. Truthfully, I don't want to find the words. He also felt the magical connection between us and I actually like the fact that no one will be able to understand why we did what we did. "Why" actually doesn't even matter.
What does matter is that I can walk away with from this situation, a) with my head held high (and tears fully dried), and b) with the confidence that this will never happen again.
Have an honest conversation with any single Black male or female and the topic of "the ratio" will eventually come up. But even though the number of available Black men is disappointingly low, never again will I feel the need to share one. The situation is just not that dire.
You'll never hear me spew even one bad comment about him. He truly was the best thing I never had; to this day I think he's thoughtful, humorous, intellectual, kind, and unbelievably yummy.
But so am I.
Friday, August 13, 2010
The Top Five Mistakes Men Make When Posting a Profile to an Online Dating Site
9/3/11 - Grad school/having a full-time job, combined with the most stressful dating experience of my life (see post from 09/02/11), combined with a major position in a volunteer organization, caused a year-long hiatus in contributing to this blog.
I logged on today to edit another post and found that I began this one over a year ago. After reading it a few times, it looks like it was supposed to be 'The Top Ten Mistakes Men Make When Posting a Profile on an Online Dating Site' or something like that. Five things are listed, but it seems as if I just forgot to come back to finish the list. But since I no longer use the services of online dating sites, I actually can't come up with 5 other mistakes. So I'll change the numbers and still publish the list anyway, but as a Top 5. So here it goes...
Originally written on 8/13/11
5. Self-portraits taken with a cell (or any other picture taking device) in the mirror.
- That's quite lame. Next time you're out having fun somewhere, ask a friend - or even a complete stranger - to take a picture of you!
4. Mentioning God
- I believe in our creator just as much as the next person. But I'm automatically weary about anyone who feels the need to talk about Him right away.
3. No picture
- Online dating is already a crap shoot. But in craps at least I get to see what the dice look like before I roll 'em.
2. Mentioning your sex drive
- You're a man; of course your sex drive is high!
1. Misspeling Werdz
- First, I think all online dating sites should come with a spell-check option and clear directions about how to use it. But if you are going to misspell words, don't do ironic ones like 'collge'.
I logged on today to edit another post and found that I began this one over a year ago. After reading it a few times, it looks like it was supposed to be 'The Top Ten Mistakes Men Make When Posting a Profile on an Online Dating Site' or something like that. Five things are listed, but it seems as if I just forgot to come back to finish the list. But since I no longer use the services of online dating sites, I actually can't come up with 5 other mistakes. So I'll change the numbers and still publish the list anyway, but as a Top 5. So here it goes...
Originally written on 8/13/11
5. Self-portraits taken with a cell (or any other picture taking device) in the mirror.
- That's quite lame. Next time you're out having fun somewhere, ask a friend - or even a complete stranger - to take a picture of you!
4. Mentioning God
- I believe in our creator just as much as the next person. But I'm automatically weary about anyone who feels the need to talk about Him right away.
3. No picture
- Online dating is already a crap shoot. But in craps at least I get to see what the dice look like before I roll 'em.
2. Mentioning your sex drive
- You're a man; of course your sex drive is high!
1. Misspeling Werdz
- First, I think all online dating sites should come with a spell-check option and clear directions about how to use it. But if you are going to misspell words, don't do ironic ones like 'collge'.
Wednesday, August 11, 2010
I date men who want to get married...just not to me!
1/10 of my weekday morning routine is to sit down at my desktop in nothing but my shower wrap. With the news in the background, I open up Facebook and catch up on the status updates and such that came through overnight. The site also tells me which friends are celebrating birthdays. I go to each person's page and leave them a quick message. While going through these motions the other day, I left the usual greetings for a guy I used to date. (The same guy I talked about in the post 'First Words'.) Before leaving, I looked at the left-hand side and...
Is engaged to _________.
Ugh! Really?!
He moved from Atlanta over a year ago and I knew I'd never see or talk to him again away from FB. I had no problems with that - as long as he was 'single'. (Meaning not engaged nor married. ) But for the second time in just a few months, I had to sever a Facebook friendship with a former flame due to his status change.
Okay, I'll admit it - I date men who want to get married...just not to me! But I'm finally at a point in my life where I don't think it's necessarily me that's the issue - despite me being the least common denominator.
In one of my favorite Sex and the City episodes, Samantha compares men to taxis. She's referencing the belief that when men are (finally, it seems) open to the idea of dating long-term/getting married, they'll 'turn their light on'. Whomever enters their life next is subjected to the possibility of making a man want to change their relationship status on Facebook. But if the light is flipped to the off position, there's little to nothing a girl can do to advance the relationship any further than the (dreaded, for me) 'kickin it' phase.
After many years of dating, I am a believer in Samantha's theory. Of course many people believe they are great catches; I definitely do. But I have yet to get past one year of dating the same guy, despite all of my awesome qualities. It makes me feel better to think that I just have not hailed a guy who's light was on. So until I do, I'm going to enjoy this solo cab ride and do my best to be happy for him, despite the fact that his light came on after I arrived at my stop.
Is engaged to _________.
Ugh! Really?!
He moved from Atlanta over a year ago and I knew I'd never see or talk to him again away from FB. I had no problems with that - as long as he was 'single'. (Meaning not engaged nor married. ) But for the second time in just a few months, I had to sever a Facebook friendship with a former flame due to his status change.
Okay, I'll admit it - I date men who want to get married...just not to me! But I'm finally at a point in my life where I don't think it's necessarily me that's the issue - despite me being the least common denominator.
In one of my favorite Sex and the City episodes, Samantha compares men to taxis. She's referencing the belief that when men are (finally, it seems) open to the idea of dating long-term/getting married, they'll 'turn their light on'. Whomever enters their life next is subjected to the possibility of making a man want to change their relationship status on Facebook. But if the light is flipped to the off position, there's little to nothing a girl can do to advance the relationship any further than the (dreaded, for me) 'kickin it' phase.
After many years of dating, I am a believer in Samantha's theory. Of course many people believe they are great catches; I definitely do. But I have yet to get past one year of dating the same guy, despite all of my awesome qualities. It makes me feel better to think that I just have not hailed a guy who's light was on. So until I do, I'm going to enjoy this solo cab ride and do my best to be happy for him, despite the fact that his light came on after I arrived at my stop.
Thursday, July 24, 2008
Not That Into You
When Greg Behrendt wrote the book 'He's Just Not That Into You', women all over erupted into a frenzy. The same will probably happen early next year when the movie version is released. They didn't need to spend additional money to prepare a trailer, though. They could've taped my life for the past 7 months.
So far this year, three separate guys have been just not that into me. Three! So I know that a single gal that's even halfway immersed in the dating world is faced with the chance of that happening on a regular basis. But that's how many times he's been not that into me in all of my eleven previous years of dating combined!
I'm usually the one who's just not that into him. As India Arie says, "You see The Truth, it needs no proof. Either it is or it isn't." I know pretty quickly whether it is or it isn't. I see little need to pretend.
But, ugh!, I hate when the shoe is on the other foot.
My spiritual belief is that my creator, and not me, is running thangs. While I may know a lot, he knows everything - including whether or not the man of the month is supposed to be into me. The logical side of me understands this. But, unfortunately the heart isn't as reasonable.
Here's wishing that the next guy whose path mine crosses will be just that into me...
So far this year, three separate guys have been just not that into me. Three! So I know that a single gal that's even halfway immersed in the dating world is faced with the chance of that happening on a regular basis. But that's how many times he's been not that into me in all of my eleven previous years of dating combined!
I'm usually the one who's just not that into him. As India Arie says, "You see The Truth, it needs no proof. Either it is or it isn't." I know pretty quickly whether it is or it isn't. I see little need to pretend.
But, ugh!, I hate when the shoe is on the other foot.
My spiritual belief is that my creator, and not me, is running thangs. While I may know a lot, he knows everything - including whether or not the man of the month is supposed to be into me. The logical side of me understands this. But, unfortunately the heart isn't as reasonable.
Here's wishing that the next guy whose path mine crosses will be just that into me...
Tuesday, July 1, 2008
Should Happen to Die
No matter how many times you go through it, homegoing celebrations never get easier. Today we buried Darren - one of my favorites out of the 100+ cousins I have. Darren tremendously loved his family - despite the strain, his job - despite the stress, and his gym - despite the sweat.
The running joke of the family was that Darren also loved one more thing just as much as the first three - women.
We often had bets amongst us - "Which girl was Darren going to bring to this family function?" At the time of his passing, I'm sure a handful of girls thought they were the last to have a special connection with him. But during the fourth and final decade of his life, two were considered to be the front runners. Darren never committed to either of them, that just wasn't his style. But the love he had for each one was evident to us all.
Of course I was concerned for his father, siblings, other family members, and friends when I learned of his passing. But I also felt a wave of empathy for his other two loves. For they were living one of my worst dating nightmares.
Because no one is from Atlanta, I rarely meet the families of the men I date. But what if one of them should happen to die either while or soon after we were together? Would I even know about it? Would I, a random girlfriend, be allowed to grieve for him in the way that I'm used to?
I know that the universe will never put me in this situation. But just as a sort of karmic insurance, I did my part to show Darren's loves that they were welcomed at today's celebrations.
When we all meet again, it won't matter in what capacity we loved one another; and it shouldn't matter either at the moment if he should happen to die.
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
Confusion
"Yes! A beer festival!", I shouted internally as I read the email from Andrea. After a quick reply, plans were made to attend Draft on Taft - an all-the-Budweiser-you-can-drink-for-$25 event that would take place just two blocks from my new place the following weekend.
After about 4 hours of heavy chugging, I allegedly approached one of the only other black folks there. Anyone who knows me knows that my memory is the first thing that goes when I'm drinking. I'm sure I was able to strike up a great, well probably just good, conversation with this dude. Good enough that he invited me to his place; good enough that I woke up the next morning on the living room floor at his place.
My dress was still on the next morning, thank you very much.
I recollect walking to the car with him after the festival and bits and pieces of the conversation we had back at his place. But other than that, he came into my life amidst much confusion.
And left the same way.
Tivo-forward (badoomp, badoomp, badoomp) a week and a half later. He's gone just as quickly as he arrived. There's as much confusion surrounding me now as there was the night we met.
We didn't see each other again until exactly a week after the fest and only exchanged a few texts and calls. But then we decided to make up for lost time by going on a date that lasted for 30 hours! No lie, email me for details if you're that interested. Out of 10 stars, I'd give the date 9.3. It involved things that usually don't come 'til much later, like meeting his fam and a bunch of his friends. Those 30 hours were some of the best I've had in awhile and he couldn't have been better company if he tried.
Half a week later, I get the following text.
"Hey...what's up...so I have a lot going on right now. I enjoy talking and hanging out with you, but right now...I need to focus on a few things. I'm asking for time."
And that, my friends, is why I haven't dated in over 2 years! What the hell is that? The confusion I had about how we met comes no where near the confusion I have now. For the life of me, I honestly can not understand how a guy can (seem to?) be totally into you one day and then is "asking for time" the next.
The universe worked its magic and my Kismet randomly called shortly after I got the text. He was able to explain it from a man's point of view and I'm beginning to come out of the fog of bewilderment.
It'll take a day or two for the fog to completely lift. But when it does, the only confusion that better remain is about how to get back out there and do it all over again!
After about 4 hours of heavy chugging, I allegedly approached one of the only other black folks there. Anyone who knows me knows that my memory is the first thing that goes when I'm drinking. I'm sure I was able to strike up a great, well probably just good, conversation with this dude. Good enough that he invited me to his place; good enough that I woke up the next morning on the living room floor at his place.
My dress was still on the next morning, thank you very much.
I recollect walking to the car with him after the festival and bits and pieces of the conversation we had back at his place. But other than that, he came into my life amidst much confusion.
And left the same way.
Tivo-forward (badoomp, badoomp, badoomp) a week and a half later. He's gone just as quickly as he arrived. There's as much confusion surrounding me now as there was the night we met.
We didn't see each other again until exactly a week after the fest and only exchanged a few texts and calls. But then we decided to make up for lost time by going on a date that lasted for 30 hours! No lie, email me for details if you're that interested. Out of 10 stars, I'd give the date 9.3. It involved things that usually don't come 'til much later, like meeting his fam and a bunch of his friends. Those 30 hours were some of the best I've had in awhile and he couldn't have been better company if he tried.
Half a week later, I get the following text.
"Hey...what's up...so I have a lot going on right now. I enjoy talking and hanging out with you, but right now...I need to focus on a few things. I'm asking for time."
And that, my friends, is why I haven't dated in over 2 years! What the hell is that? The confusion I had about how we met comes no where near the confusion I have now. For the life of me, I honestly can not understand how a guy can (seem to?) be totally into you one day and then is "asking for time" the next.
The universe worked its magic and my Kismet randomly called shortly after I got the text. He was able to explain it from a man's point of view and I'm beginning to come out of the fog of bewilderment.
It'll take a day or two for the fog to completely lift. But when it does, the only confusion that better remain is about how to get back out there and do it all over again!
Thursday, January 3, 2008
Belize vs. a Braves Game
I've been deprived when it comes to the materialistic perks of dating. I've been a contestant in this game for almost 12 years and I think a guy has only paid for dinner almost 12 times. I've received flowers only twice; especially nice gestures from especially uninteresting men. Two more guys thought of me at Christmas. One regifted a candle set. But the other gave me several books I had been eyeing at Barnes and Noble. I've been on two trips with guys I was dating; once to a Hawks game and another to a Braves game. Both were approximately 20 miles round trip from my house; hardly enough to make a difference in my Delta SkyMiles.
My buddy recently returned from a cruise to Mexico and more. I assumed he went with friends or family. Nope. He went with his recently acquired "lady friend". Ugh! I was with Braves game guy for 12 months before that trip. I'm baffled at how this girl went to Belize after less than 6!
Belize vs. a Braves Game! There's obviously no comparison!
I'm digging deep, but I honestly can't pinpoint why I'm not the one shopping for sunscreen. It's one of two things, or maybe even a combination of both.
First, I believe that the definition of an "independent woman" fits me like a glove. In fact, at the top of my extremely short list of 'Reasons I Need a Man' is "so someone can help with odd jobs around the house". (The battery in my smoke detector needs changed and I so don't feel like climbing up there to do it!) Perhaps the guys who come in, then go out of my life sense that I don't need them for much, especially a vacation, bouquet of flowers, or Christmas gift. I realize that men need to be needed; I vow to do a better job of letting them feel that way, whether or not it's actually true.
Have you ever dated a guy whose idea of a romantic dinner is warming up leftover Chinese food? That's the story of my life. But I'm confused. Do I just happen to attract these type of men? Or do they turn into this type of men once they meet me?
Whatever the case, I'm not giving up on the idea of a trip with my man that takes us outside of the Perimeter!
My buddy recently returned from a cruise to Mexico and more. I assumed he went with friends or family. Nope. He went with his recently acquired "lady friend". Ugh! I was with Braves game guy for 12 months before that trip. I'm baffled at how this girl went to Belize after less than 6!
Belize vs. a Braves Game! There's obviously no comparison!
I'm digging deep, but I honestly can't pinpoint why I'm not the one shopping for sunscreen. It's one of two things, or maybe even a combination of both.
First, I believe that the definition of an "independent woman" fits me like a glove. In fact, at the top of my extremely short list of 'Reasons I Need a Man' is "so someone can help with odd jobs around the house". (The battery in my smoke detector needs changed and I so don't feel like climbing up there to do it!) Perhaps the guys who come in, then go out of my life sense that I don't need them for much, especially a vacation, bouquet of flowers, or Christmas gift. I realize that men need to be needed; I vow to do a better job of letting them feel that way, whether or not it's actually true.
Have you ever dated a guy whose idea of a romantic dinner is warming up leftover Chinese food? That's the story of my life. But I'm confused. Do I just happen to attract these type of men? Or do they turn into this type of men once they meet me?
Whatever the case, I'm not giving up on the idea of a trip with my man that takes us outside of the Perimeter!
Saturday, December 1, 2007
Two is Greater than Zero
3 = Months
$14.99 = Total cost
2 = Dates booked
Two is greater than zero, but I was definitely expecting more dates than that from my match.com experience.
My reason for trying "online dating" in the first place was pretty simple. Let's say you go "out"; if it's to a hip place, chances are you'll be surrounded by dozens of single men. But going from simply eyeing one to actually booking a date takes some work. So I figured subscribing to a dating site would make that particular part a little less cumbersome. You're still surrounded by dozens of single men, but at least you get to find out a lot more about them before deciding to put in the work to book a date.
This latest stint wasn't my first time searching for him online, but it'll probably be my last. Although meeting a guy this way is becoming increasingly common, I just can't see myself telling my grandkids the story of seeing their grandpa's profile for the first time!
Good luck to the online daters out there; I didn't find my match on match, but everyone's experience is different. In the meantime, I'm going back to doing it old school - eyeing a guy across the room, sauntering up next to him, grabbing his behind, and seeing what happens from there!
$14.99 = Total cost
2 = Dates booked
Two is greater than zero, but I was definitely expecting more dates than that from my match.com experience.
My reason for trying "online dating" in the first place was pretty simple. Let's say you go "out"; if it's to a hip place, chances are you'll be surrounded by dozens of single men. But going from simply eyeing one to actually booking a date takes some work. So I figured subscribing to a dating site would make that particular part a little less cumbersome. You're still surrounded by dozens of single men, but at least you get to find out a lot more about them before deciding to put in the work to book a date.
This latest stint wasn't my first time searching for him online, but it'll probably be my last. Although meeting a guy this way is becoming increasingly common, I just can't see myself telling my grandkids the story of seeing their grandpa's profile for the first time!
Good luck to the online daters out there; I didn't find my match on match, but everyone's experience is different. In the meantime, I'm going back to doing it old school - eyeing a guy across the room, sauntering up next to him, grabbing his behind, and seeing what happens from there!
Tuesday, September 4, 2007
Crush
I called it a day around 11am. My car was broken (again!) and besides, it was Labor Day! Aren't you supposed to honor it by not working (or doing anything that even closely resembles working)? I wanted to further celebrate the holiday by not washing my face, brushing my teeth, showering, or changing out of my version of pjs - hot girl shorts and a cami. Get over it; Labor Day only comes once a year, duh!
Along with my car, my screen door was also broken. And from my position on the couch, the sound of it banging against the house was getting on the one nerve I had left. Despite my skimpy choice of pajamas, I decided to go outside to fix it. I was fiddling with the door handle, half inside and half hanging out of the house when I heard "Hey girl, I see you coming out here dressed like that!"
I looked towards my across-the-street neighbor's house and saw two people in the yard. Common sense told me the taller one was my neighbor, but my dirty contacts prevented me from figuring out who the other one was.
Until he started walking towards me.
****! That's him!
"Him" is another neighbor's friend from med school. Neighbor #2 introduced him to me almost 5 years ago. And I've had a crush on him ever since! He lives in Alabama and I only see him a handful of times each year. Over the years, I've had to deal with neighbor #2 giving me a play-by-play of my crush's dating life, including a proposal and then a calling off of the engagement. But all the while, I kept on crushin'.
He's walking towards me! ****! I dashed into the bathroom for a quick teeth check just as he knocked on the still-broken screen door.
We hung out for the next 45 or so minutes. He fixed the door, took out the trash, and even rolled up his sleeves and checked under the hood of my car- all without being asked. What a guy! Then he came in and we had a great conversation. Everything was perfect, except for the fact that I was absolutely disgusting!
This is the kind of luck I have. My crush didn't see me in my Easter best; instead he saw me in my Labor Day worst. Funny though, he didn't seem to mind one bit. What a guy! Now that's someone worth having a crush on!
Along with my car, my screen door was also broken. And from my position on the couch, the sound of it banging against the house was getting on the one nerve I had left. Despite my skimpy choice of pajamas, I decided to go outside to fix it. I was fiddling with the door handle, half inside and half hanging out of the house when I heard "Hey girl, I see you coming out here dressed like that!"
I looked towards my across-the-street neighbor's house and saw two people in the yard. Common sense told me the taller one was my neighbor, but my dirty contacts prevented me from figuring out who the other one was.
Until he started walking towards me.
****! That's him!
"Him" is another neighbor's friend from med school. Neighbor #2 introduced him to me almost 5 years ago. And I've had a crush on him ever since! He lives in Alabama and I only see him a handful of times each year. Over the years, I've had to deal with neighbor #2 giving me a play-by-play of my crush's dating life, including a proposal and then a calling off of the engagement. But all the while, I kept on crushin'.
He's walking towards me! ****! I dashed into the bathroom for a quick teeth check just as he knocked on the still-broken screen door.
We hung out for the next 45 or so minutes. He fixed the door, took out the trash, and even rolled up his sleeves and checked under the hood of my car- all without being asked. What a guy! Then he came in and we had a great conversation. Everything was perfect, except for the fact that I was absolutely disgusting!
This is the kind of luck I have. My crush didn't see me in my Easter best; instead he saw me in my Labor Day worst. Funny though, he didn't seem to mind one bit. What a guy! Now that's someone worth having a crush on!
Tuesday, August 28, 2007
Same Guy
It didn't take much work on her part to convince me to rejoin www.match.com. 1. I've been single for over a year. 2. They're running a 75% off special. And you know how I love a bargain.
I was severely disappointed after updating my profile and running my first search. My specifications yielded only 2 pages of potential matches. Maybe I'm too picky?! Maybe they're really very few men 5' 10"or taller, with no kids, never been married, earned a bachelor's degree or higher, and don't smoke on Match right now. Ugh! What a waste of time. But looking on the bright side, I get to call her up and have her log on too so we can make fun of all the spelling and grammar errors we find.
So I did just that. Her tastes are different than mine and I just knew her search would produce more than a mere 2 pages. She was so excited to tell me about a guy that she's gone as far as having a phone conversation with.
"He's a police officer." "Oh really? A detective sent me a message." "He's cool; we just talked about work and stuff." "Uh, wait. Is he white?" "No, Puerto Rican." "Yes, that's what I meant. Um, I think that same guy sent me a message!"
We then began giggling like 7th graders as we confirmed that a guy w/the same profile name sent both of us a message. I turned him down right away because of his skin color (hush, I'm entitled to my own personal preference). But what if I hadn't? And what if she and I didn't decide to discuss our Match experiences? Then we would be having the female version of Usher and Kell's latest song; "We've been messing with the same guy!"
I'm sure it wouldn't gone that far. But this goes to show you just how small of a world we're living in, internet and all it's infinity included.
I was severely disappointed after updating my profile and running my first search. My specifications yielded only 2 pages of potential matches. Maybe I'm too picky?! Maybe they're really very few men 5' 10"or taller, with no kids, never been married, earned a bachelor's degree or higher, and don't smoke on Match right now. Ugh! What a waste of time. But looking on the bright side, I get to call her up and have her log on too so we can make fun of all the spelling and grammar errors we find.
So I did just that. Her tastes are different than mine and I just knew her search would produce more than a mere 2 pages. She was so excited to tell me about a guy that she's gone as far as having a phone conversation with.
"He's a police officer." "Oh really? A detective sent me a message." "He's cool; we just talked about work and stuff." "Uh, wait. Is he white?" "No, Puerto Rican." "Yes, that's what I meant. Um, I think that same guy sent me a message!"
We then began giggling like 7th graders as we confirmed that a guy w/the same profile name sent both of us a message. I turned him down right away because of his skin color (hush, I'm entitled to my own personal preference). But what if I hadn't? And what if she and I didn't decide to discuss our Match experiences? Then we would be having the female version of Usher and Kell's latest song; "We've been messing with the same guy!"
I'm sure it wouldn't gone that far. But this goes to show you just how small of a world we're living in, internet and all it's infinity included.
Wednesday, August 1, 2007
First Words
The hook-up. No, not as in "I want to hook up with that hottie from the gym" (like I would ever say that). I mean, as in "I want to hook you up with this guy from my grad school class." That's what a co-worker called to tell me earlier this summer. Yes, that hook-up. It's probably the 'How to Meet a Guy' tactic that I've used the least, but I couldn't get any more single if I tried, and I have nothing to lose.
Her classmate and I had a brief, as in like 15 seconds, phone conversation about a month ago. But today we had our first real talk. Does anyone else out there dread the first words you have with a potential mate? Well, not really dread them, but recognize that they can be awkward, kind of uncomfy? Especially when those first words are exchanged over a phone line. You're unable to be reassured by the occasional head nod and/or smile (or even lack thereof). You're doing your best to balance the conversation - a little about me, a little about him. What questions are best to ask? To avoid? Oooooooooh, maybe I shouldn't have told him that I used to frequent a certain strip club in Windsor during my undergrad years.
After 11+ years in the dating game, I've had this first conversation over and over and over and over. Yet it never gets any easier. This conversation is filled with hope, surrounded by curiosity, and even peppered with skepticism. Yet, it's necessary in order to move on with your newest guy. Now that we've exchanged our first words, we're now free to embark upon our first everything else.
*Update: 08/12/07*
He never called again; guess he was put off by my strip club story! Oh well, life will go on. :)
**Update: 08/28/07**
He sent me a text today. Random! Stay tuned...
***Update: 10/13/07***
We met for dinner! But I think he has a g/f. Damn!
****Update: 08/11/10****
He's engaged; just not to me.
Her classmate and I had a brief, as in like 15 seconds, phone conversation about a month ago. But today we had our first real talk. Does anyone else out there dread the first words you have with a potential mate? Well, not really dread them, but recognize that they can be awkward, kind of uncomfy? Especially when those first words are exchanged over a phone line. You're unable to be reassured by the occasional head nod and/or smile (or even lack thereof). You're doing your best to balance the conversation - a little about me, a little about him. What questions are best to ask? To avoid? Oooooooooh, maybe I shouldn't have told him that I used to frequent a certain strip club in Windsor during my undergrad years.
After 11+ years in the dating game, I've had this first conversation over and over and over and over. Yet it never gets any easier. This conversation is filled with hope, surrounded by curiosity, and even peppered with skepticism. Yet, it's necessary in order to move on with your newest guy. Now that we've exchanged our first words, we're now free to embark upon our first everything else.
*Update: 08/12/07*
He never called again; guess he was put off by my strip club story! Oh well, life will go on. :)
**Update: 08/28/07**
He sent me a text today. Random! Stay tuned...
***Update: 10/13/07***
We met for dinner! But I think he has a g/f. Damn!
****Update: 08/11/10****
He's engaged; just not to me.
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