Thursday, December 27, 2007
We also have a weird doppleganger effect in my family too. You can have a cousin twice removed that looks so much like you that you could be twins. I have a niece that looks so much like me (especially now that we have the same hair color) her own toddler got us confused. Imagine a two year old sitting happily in what she thinks is her mother's lap, suddenly looking up and seeing her real mother walk through the door. That was one confused little girl for a couple of minutes. I even confused my other niece for my own sister a couple of times this week. How crazy is that? I remember confusing my grandmother and one of her sisters a lot when I was a kid because they looked so much a like.
As you can imagine, family reunions are quite fun. Everyone one walks around really confused and afraid to call anyone by name. Once about five years ago, I was at a family reunion and I spotted a guy that I thought was my brother across the room. I turned to California Mom (she's my cousin) and said, "I didn't know Donny was coming to the reunion and my God, he's gained a hundred pounds!"
"That's not your brother," she replied, 'that's Darryl, your cousin. He is Nanny's (our grandmother) great nephew." I almost fell out of my chair. It was the eeriest thing I'd ever seen.
Our DNA also carries odd habits as well. For instance, many people in my family have this weird habit of sticking out their tongue when they get engrossed in something. (I'm doing it now as I type.) It's freaky to see a relative you've never met do the same damn thing.
So, I guess what my rambling is really about is to warn everyone out in cyberspace that if you are ever in the south and meet a group of people that all look exactly alike and they are all sticking their tongues out, don't be frightened it's probably just a few of my relatives. They're harmless, but they might crack a joke or two at your expense because we are all a bunch of smart asses. You can't say you weren't warned.
Monday, December 24, 2007
So considering that I have given being good my all this year, I only have one request. I want a boyfriend (for a complete update on the situation, please read the previous post Crash and Burn, it explains a lot). I'm not asking for a perfect man, just a nice guy who won't mind if I have a nervous break down occasionally (you can tell him I make up for it by cooking a mean steak). He doesn't have to be the most gorgeous guy in the world, just pleasing to me and he has to have a sense of humor, otherwise he will run away from me quickly. A really intelligent guy who's a great kisser would be a big bonus.
I'll even see if I can get Baby Jesus to give me a reference on the whole being good thing if that would help expedite my request. I think he is into the whole forgiveness scene and can vouch that I have at least tried to repent for those bad thoughts (and the occasional four letter word).
Hope this letter finds you well and that you really do read blogs.
Two Date Diva
P.S. The peanut butter cookies will be waiting just like always, but I took out the trans fat for you.
Saturday, December 22, 2007
I don't cry because I don't have someone to hold me and tell me its okay to just let go. Someone to tell me everything is going to be okay even though he can't fix it. It'll be okay because I can lean on him. No matter what, he's got my back. I don't cry because lying on my bed sobbing uncontrollably seems so pathetic when I am alone. Not to mention it freaks out the cat.
So, instead, I go about my day and shed a couple of tears here and there and refuse to break down mainly because I don't have anyone to pick me back up and tell me I'm going to be fine. Maybe that's what I'll ask Santa for this year, a boyfriend who'll, above all else , just let me curl up on his chest and be a total chick for just a minute and cry my eyeballs out.
Friday, December 21, 2007
This week as I was driving back and forth to Ga. to be with my family after my brother in law died, I stopped and got gas twice. On Monday, I stopped at a gas station and the card reader on the gas pump wouldn't work. I took the card to the clerk and she told me that since I was filling up my tank, they would hold the card until I finished pumping gas (so I wouldn't drive off without paying). My tail tingled. I didn't like the idea of leaving my card with the cashier. My Little Voice spoke up and suggested I just get $20 bucks worth of gas and get more later if I needed it. However, I was in a hurry and not really thinking straight and I over ruled her. Stupid me. Apparently, while I was getting my gas, someone wrote down my card number and went on an online shopping spree this morning. I know this had to be what happened because my card never left my hand any other time.
Thankfully, I check my bank balance obsessively and I noticed weird charges this AM. I walked across the street to my credit union and they pulled up a list of nearly $300 worth of unauthorized charges due to be debited from my account. The little thief had been busy. I had to sit and go through them and write a short note about the ones that were unauthorized so that the bank could stop the transfers. I also had to completely cancel my debit card and order a new one. All in all it is taken care of, but it just irritates me that I didn't listen to my instincts. It was a stupid mistake that could have cost me a lot.
However, it could have been much worse. Since it is the holidays, I bet the thief was banking (no pun intended) on the fact that people are generally too busy and preoccupied during this time of year and wouldn't notice a few extra charges or might not even notice any charges until they got a monthly statement or checks started bouncing. Dumb ass picked the wrong card number to steal. I pay attention. A lot.
And I'm also smarter than the average duck. I called up one of the companies and without telling them that my card number was stolen was able to convince them that I was the wife of a man that had ordered something to be shipped. Since we'd just moved to a new area, I was pretty sure that my "husband" had typed in the wrong zip code in the shipping address. I just needed them to tell me what shipping address that my "husband" had given them so I could make sure it was correct. They gave it to me. Along with the email address that my "husband" used to place the order. Two can play this game Mr. Asshole Thief. I, of course, will be passing this information along to the police.
Moral of the story: Trust the Tingle and if you're a thief don't piss off the itty bitty chick with the really big temper.
My sister's husband died suddenly over the weekend and my brothers and I all rallied to her side to help out in any way we could. (Hence my absence from cyberspace this week.) We may not all be very close any more, but if one of us is in trouble, we can mobilize in a heartbeat. This mobilization brought us all together for the funeral and other activities this week and I had yet another of my famous epiphanies. I am so the baby.
They are all a bit older older than me and have families and kids and now grand kids. (Yikes!) (Side note: at 34 years old, I am way too damn young to be great aunt!) We also did not grow up in the same house as they all lived with their father's family and I lived with my mom. So, basically, I have always considered myself to have more of the traits of an only child or a first born (for those of you who have read The Birth Order Book, you know what I am talking about).
However, upon catching everyone up on the goings on of my life, it hit me that I am the typical baby child.
While they have all been raising families and now burying spouses way too soon (my sister is only 40 and her husband 41), I have been working, writing, dating and flitting about the world traveling just because I could. Sound like a baby to anyone else?
Now don't get me wrong, I'm not the irresponsible "come bail me out of jail" baby sister, but I have definitely not walked the same path as my older siblings. I have a great job, own a home and I pay all of my bills and such, but I don't have nearly the family responsibilities and such that they are all dealing with. I made a conscious choice not to be a mother in my twenties. My siblings all jumped onto the marriage/baby train pretty early and even though I married young, I knew that I didn't want to have kids right away because I wanted to see a bit of the world first. And I have. But just to illustrate the gap in lifestyles, let's look at one of the conversations we had this week, shall we?
My Sister: Well I became a grandma for the second time just before Thanksgiving, what have you been up to?
Me: Not much, traveling, working, you know the same 'ol same 'ol.
My Sister: Are you married?
Me: No! I would have told you if I was married!
My Sister: Why not?
Me: Just haven't found the right guy blah, blah, bah........(I rambled off some kind of bullshit at this point because I was trying hard not be a smart ass to a woman who had just woken up next to her dead husband the day before.)
My Sister: Where have you been traveling to?
Me: Mexico, Belize, mostly the Caribbean. I love the Caribbean.
My Sister: Oh.........(Looking perplexed and not relating at all, she's never even been on a plane.)
And so it hit me, I am really the baby. I'm definitely the one running around and having a great time while they have all put down roots and settled in. Even though, I love all of them and their kids and grand kids (yikes again!) I have got to say it, I have lived a pretty damn good life and I don't feel like I have missed anything by not traveling the same road they all did.
Someday, I will have the husband and the kids and the grand kids, but I will also have the comfort in knowing that I lived a little before I did all of that. And I have enjoyed every single minute of it.
And I'm not going to feel bad about being the baby because really if anyone is to blame here it's my mom, after all, she did have me last.
Friday, December 14, 2007
Random guy in bar: "Wow, you have the most beautiful blue eyes I have ever seen! Are those your real eyes?"
Me (A little tipsy from a couple of beers and not in the mood to be hit on by yet another guy wearing a wedding ring): "No, actually these are my faux eyeballs, I keep the real ones in a safe deposit box so they don't get stolen."
Random guy walks away, looking a bit perplexed.
In response to a few emails I have gotten I am going to create a dictionary to make it easier to understand my ramblings. I will update as necessary! Feel free to use these words in conversation but don't blame me if people look at you like you're crazy.
Oomph- this is my word for chemistry. In its subtlest form, it is the feeling of “wow I really like this person, I think I would like to get to know him/her better”. In its raw and most potent form, it is the “I want to crawl across the table and rip his/her clothes off with my teeth” feeling.
Ghost- A person that you are dating or shopping to date that just disappears and cuts off communication with no explanation.
Clusterfuck- a huge mess that is indescribable.
OLD-Short for Online Dating.
Crapola- a fancy word for crap.
Boomerang Boys- boys you broke up with or that broke up with you but they come back around asking for a mulligan.
Mulligan- a golf term it means do-over.
Tail Tingle- that suspicious feeling you get that something just isn’t right. (Also referred to as the Spidey sense occasionally.)
FWB-Short for friends with benefits.
Blowtorch- a person that comes on nauseatingly strong in the beginning of the relationship. However, these people’s feelings usually burn out as quickly as they flared up.
Chick Nip- a fragrance or scent that has the same effect on women that cat nip has on cats. They lose all sense of control.
Tuesday, December 11, 2007
1. Link to your tagger and post these rules on your blog.
2. Share 5 facts about yourself on your blog, some random, some weird.
3. Tag 5 people at the end of your post by leaving their names as well as links to their blogs.
4. Let them know they are tagged by leaving a comment on their blog.
1. I am officially a chocoholic.
2. I once kept dating a guy for a couple of months because he was a little crazy and the crazy entertained me. I didn't really like him, I just wanted to see what crazy shit he would do or say next. (I know, I'm a bit of a freak.)
3. I was married for 7 years to my high school sweet heart.
4. I once dumped a guy because he was a terrible kisser.
5. I am obsessed with the discovery channel and itunes.
I am tagging:
Monday, December 10, 2007
But today I found a new one:
"I will not date a man just because he has a penis and a pulse."
I found this article today and she mentions this in item #2. I thought it was a pretty great read.
Saturday, December 8, 2007
9. There is more alcohol than food at the party.
8. Female guests can talk football as good or better than the male guests at the party (and they can do it backwards while wearing heels).
7. Party guests can be divided into two categories Gator fans or Seminole fans.
6. Guests will water the host's lawn and shrubbery if the bathroom is occupied.
5. Party goers get into a shouting match screaming "Gators" or "Noles" at one another.
4. Guests are dressed in shorts and flip flops in the middle of December.
3. Guests walk in and pick "dibs" on rooms to sleep in if they get too drunk to drive.
2. Somebody always makes a red velvet cake.
1. The entire party stops to watch the Heisman Trophy ceremony.
I took myself out for a great night of dancing and general debauchery for a whopping $7. Yep, you read that right $7. There was a $3 cover charge to get in and get one of those nifty "yes, I am over 21" bright pink wrist bands and I bought one beer for $4. Ladies and gentlemen, I think that officially makes me the cheapest date I've ever gone out with. And I had the best time on $7 that a girl could ever have. I danced until my feet almost fell off.
I give myself a hard time about going out sometimes because I think that it will cost a fortune and I don't want to waste the money, but this time I may have proven myself completely wrong about that theory. Sometimes, it really is good to be me.
Thursday, December 6, 2007
Me: Nope, he ghosted about 2 months ago.
Friend: He and I have a few mutual friends and I saw him at a party a few days ago. He was with another girl. I knew you guys had dated, but I wasn't sure if he was stepping out on you or not.
Me: No, we're done, he said he give me a call and we'd get together for dinner one Friday night and he still hasn't called. So, next!
Friend: So, it doesn't bother you that he would be with another girl so soon?
Me: No! We only dated for a couple of months.
Friend: Thank God, cause I've been dying to tell you that he's crazy! He did you a favor by ghosting. He's actually living with this new girl, they moved in together about 6 weeks ago. She's got three kids by three different men and she just lost her job because she's a meth head. He felt sorry for her and they "fell in love". She was about to get evicted so he moved her and her kids in with him.
Me: So let me get this straight, Captain Sav-A Ho ghosted on me for an unemployed single mother of three (by three different baby daddies) with a rockin' meth habit. Well, my self esteem just hit an all time low.
Edited to add...
Now that Seeing-Single is back in the dating game, I vote that she cook this up for one of her dates and report back! ;)
Wednesday, December 5, 2007
Long story very short, we dated for about six months and then he ghosted, which was very irritating but I didn't get too upset because he was so moody. I knew that eventually things would end because I have dated several moody broody boys in the past and that behavior is a deal breaker for me. It's just too exhausting to deal with.
So, just before Thanksgiving, he called. He found a couple of pieces of clothing that I left at his house and he wanted to stop by and see me when he was in town for the holiday so he could return them. I told him that it wasn't necessary because I hadn't even missed the clothing. However, he called the day after Thanksgiving again, wanting to come by and see me and drop them off. I wasn't home and he left a message.
I can't figure it out. Why would he call, to make amends? He didn't. He doesn't strike me as the type to want to have a big emotional discussion about how things ended. So, I'm stumped. Anyway, I returned his call but he hasn't called back, so we'll wait and see.
I found this article this morning and hopefully if any of you are experiencing a funk of your own during the holidays, due to your single status or otherwise, it will help just a bit. I'm not even sure if this is what my problem is or not, but the article gave me a few good ideas.
Tuesday, December 4, 2007
1. I'm still wrestling with a project that I thought was completed last week and I can't for the life of me figure out why it is not working as it should. Oh, and the person working on the project with me is gone.... for a month.
2. Other projects are piling up and I can't get to them fast enough. People are waiting impatiently and wanting stuff done now.
3. The refinancing of my house is taking freaking forever and I'm going to have to bring $ to closing that I had not planned on. Grrr.
4. Not looking forward to holiday parties and such alone (again) this year.
Pollyanna needs a nap and maybe some chocolate.
I live in a college town where dating is pretty hard anyway, but throw in the fact that most people my age are already married and that makes it even worse.
But back to my unsettled feeling, I can't seem to shake myself free from it. It's not a sense of impending doom or anything; (I do get those occasionally) I just feel a sense of urgency. But I don't really know what I am feeling urgent about. UHHH!!
I think part of the problem is that I am not looking forward to having it pointed out to me that I am STILL single. I am also dreading the "who are you dating questions". That is one of the reasons for this blog. I have stopped talking to most people about my dating experiences because with every new guy I go on a date with, my friends get too excited about it. And when it doesn't work out, I get the pitiful and sometimes exasperated looks from people. Writing about my experiences is just easier, besides I don't have to repeat the stories over and over.
I'm sure this feeling will subside and that it is of my own making, but I just wish I could get a better handle on it and make the crazy go away. I hate feeling unsettled.
Monday, December 3, 2007
Friday, November 30, 2007
Seven Years Single
Thursday, November 29, 2007
"Here you go!" Says the Universe. "Here is the man of your dreams, complete with a job and a huge investment portfolio as a bonus. You've been such a patient girl. Enjoy!"
But something is missing. He has all of the criteria you are looking for but yet kissing him is akin to kissing dry wall or watching paint dry. There is no excitement. No Oomph.
I went through this recently with The Professor. He was everything I thought I would want in man, but there was no chemistry, at least on my part. He was very interested in me and even wanted to be exclusive, but I knew I was in trouble when even his comments during a movie we watched bugged the crap out of me. There was no oomph at all for him on my part. I really wanted there to be oomph, but you can't force it. So, back to to the dating board for me I guess.
Laugh now Universe, but I'm onto you and pay backs are hell.
Tuesday, November 27, 2007
Whatever he was wearing was like Chick Nip. I swallowed a giggle as I recalled that TV commercial for body spray where women go nuts over men who use that particular product (kind of like cats behave around cat nip). I could just imagine ladies trying to tear this guy's clothes off in the produce isle and rubbing their bodies up against him.
Suddenly, he turned around and gave me the most curious look. It was then that I realized that my nose was millimeters from the man's neck. I was busted smelling a perfect (married) stranger in the grocery store. I tried to play it off like I was peaking over his shoulder at a magazine.
"Excuse me," I said turning beet red and reaching for the magazine. I'm pretty sure he didn't believe I was that interested in a magazine; his knowing smirk said it all.
He moved up in the line to pay for his items and I noticed the check out girl giving him a funny look. When he handed her the money she practically sniffed the twenty dollar bill before giving him his change. As he walked out, she kept watching him walk away. (This girl was a teenager and the guy was old enough to be her father.) Apparently, that cologne works on women of all ages. Chick Nip indeed.
Monday, November 26, 2007
As we walked past each other, we were both checking each other out (in an obvious way) and what do I do? I just walk right past. He was talking on his phone, so speaking was somewhat out of the question, but still I could have smiled or something. I think I may have been too dumbfounded to even smile. I am such a freaking dork. A hot guy walks right past me and I can't stop the drooling long enough to even smile at him.
I wonder if he is still in the parking garage? Maybe I could throw myself in front of his car or something. At least I could practice looking vulnerable ;) I know, I know, dork is not the word.
I'm going to go and wipe the drool off of my shirt now and say a little prayer that he works in my building.
Lately at work and in my personal life, I have been reminded more and more that no one is an island unto themselves. Everything that goes on in the world effects everyone else. For example, lots of people made bad decisions when buying homes during the housing boom (lenders and buyers alike) and now, I'm having to jump through all sorts of hoops to get my house refinanced and I've never even been late with a payment! (And I've made pretty sound decisions.) However, other peoples issues are now causing my life to be more complicated. That pisses me off. Seriously pisses me off.
I have always known that this is a huge pet peeve for me every since I was a child. Other peoples poor planning or lack of boundaries have always plagued me, but have taught me to be much better at drawing my own boundaries. But still there are those instances when you get stuck. You know, like when your boss, who can't say no to anyone, says yes to a last minute project on Friday afternoon; (that should be done by one of his colleagues) he can't possibly do it by himself and wham, you're working the weekend. Usually a weekend in which you had plans. Grrrr. I'm learning to assert my boundaries in these situations and sometimes I can renegotiate deadlines, but usually, the person needing the project to be done (right now) has left the office to start his or her weekend early. Double Grrr.
It's times like these when I am learning to say the Serenity Prayer and try not to run over anyone with my car. But it ain't easy. At least I can be thankful that I know the Serenity Prayer. Hope you all had a great Thanksgiving and I will try not to bitch anymore this week!
Monday, November 19, 2007
This morning was one of those times. I was greeted by a gigantic hairy spider in my shower before I'd even had my coffee. Of course with no man in sight, I had to conjure up the courage to get rid of the thing myself. There is nothing I hate worse than spiders, especially ones that are so big you can't wash them down the drain. Yuck.
I would have given anything to just be a girl for a minute and scream "Honeeeeeeeey! There's a huge spider in the shower! Get it out!" Short of playing rock, paper, scissors with the cat over the privilege of removing the creature, (not to mention I always lose that game anyway) I knew I had to "man up" and take care of the situation myself.
I hate having to "man up" before I've even had coffee.
Friday, November 16, 2007
"What?!" I said, trying not to choke on my tomato basil soup. "I didn't know you had one of those!" When did this happen?"
"He's a guy that I have known for a while and we get together for sex sometimes, but what do you get for a guy that you only sleep with?"
"Well," I said, "It would depend on the nature of the relationship. Are you really just fuck buddies, meaning, does he just come over, do the deed and leave? Or do you guys hang out together and do other things, not necessarily dates, but are you friends?"
"We're friends, we rent movies and hang out sometimes, we even have dinner together. But mostly, it's just sex."
"Sounds like you guys are more like Friends With Benefits. I'd get him a gift that you would get for a friend."
"Does he like a particular drink? You could get him a bottle of his favorite alcohol, something
benign like that. Then you could get him hammered and take advantage of him."
"Oooh, I like that idea!"
"Or if it was me, I'd get him lingerie." I said.
"You buy yourself a new teddy or a sexy bra and panty set and wear it for him, that way you both win."
"I so love the way you think!"
"I think he would love to see you in a new pair of stiletto boots along with that lingerie."
"You are the master!"
"I do have my moments of brilliance, that's why you're buying me lunch."
If you have any suggestions for great blogs let me know I'd love to check them out!
Wednesday, November 14, 2007
Well all I can say is at least someone is getting some! ;)
Tuesday, November 13, 2007
Where is the oddest place that you been that someone tried to pick you up or hit on you?
Since I started this whole thing, I'll go first. The oddest place I have ever had a man try to pick me up was at a wake. Yep, you read that right, a wake. I was at a local funeral home for a family member's wake and the funeral director asked me out on a date. Of course, I politely declined, but I will be forever referred to by my family members as Jodi, Peggy's youngest daughter, you now the one the flirty funeral director hit on at our cousin's wake. Apparently, I am irresistible in my funeral best.
Okay! Your turn, now go!
Monday, November 12, 2007
I wonder sometimes if I am missing a very important "girl gene" because I'm not really interested in things like shopping, shoes, handbags or fashion for that matter. I don't really follow trends or shop just to see what is new and exciting on the racks this year. I have a more masculine mentality when it comes to shopping. I am a hunter gatherer. I make a note of what I need (a new sweater for a party or a new pair of jeans) and then I go to the stores that are most likely to have my size in my price range and if I find what I need, I buy it. I also buy shoes when I need them not just because the store had a sale. (If the truth be known, I don't even like shoes.) Usually, if I don't actually need something, I don't buy it. Shopping just to shop is equivalent to the 9th circle of hell for me. I can't stand to spend money just for the sake of spending money.
However, shopping is not the only girly thing that I don't really get into. I'm also not really a fan of chick flicks either. Give me a beer and a football game any day over having to sit and watch Sleepless in Seattle. When the girls at work discuss Grey's Anatomy or Desperate Housewives, I am at a loss because I don't know the first thing about either show.
Being "non-girly" does have its advantages though. I am great at putting men at ease on dates because I can intelligently talk about their favorite football team and I even know what a 4th down conversion is.
All in all, I do sometimes feel like an outsider among my own peers, but on the bright side , I don't have a closet full of expensive (and uncomfortable) shoes that I will never wear. Now where the hell did I put those flip flops?
Wednesday, November 7, 2007
"I'm a little too old to take up rock climbing. If you want me to come in, it's pretty simple, just open the damn door." I replied.
I am so not in the market for a fixer upper.
Tuesday, November 6, 2007
The Sheik and I were discussing what we wanted in the future. Not as couple mind you, because we had only been dating for a couple of months, but just in general or so I thought. (By the way, he wasn’t really a Sheik, he’d just grown up in
“So where do you see yourself in five years?” He asked.
‘Well, I ‘d love to be doing a different job, not that I hate my job now, but I think I’d like to maybe write for a living. Maybe as a freelance writer or something. You?”
“I’d like to be a contractor with the company where I work instead of being an employee. I’d like to make my own hours so I can spend more time at home. What else would you like to accomplish?”
“I’d like to be married and perhaps working on a family. If I were working part time writing or something, then I could concentrate on my family and be home with my kids more.”
“Yeah, at some point; it doesn’t have to be exactly five years, but I’d like to have kids some day.” As I finished my sentence, it felt like the air had gotten sucked out of the room. He got really quiet. I was perplexed.
“Uh, let’s go, we have dinner reservations,” he said quickly ending the conversation. I was wondering what I had said wrong.
The Sheik and I had met through an online dating service and in his profile he mentioned wanting to have kids (2 to be exact) so why would my revelation of wanting to have a family freak him out? I didn’t get it. It wasn’t like I said I wanted to have kids with HIM. I just meant in general. The dinner conversation was almost non-existent. He wouldn’t even look me in the eye.
Later, when he dropped me at my car, he didn’t even kiss me goodbye. He mumbled a short “bye” and barely stopped the car long enough for me to get out. For a minute, I thought he was just going to slow down, open the door and push me out. It would be the last time I heard from him.
When I recounted the story to a friend a couple of months later, I was still trying to figure out what I had done wrong. All I had done was answer honestly.
“Maybe you should have been vaguer,” my friend said. “He may have gotten freaked out because you mentioned having a family.”
“I didn’t say I wanted to have HIS kids! But maybe you’re right. However, I am a firm believer if you don’t want the answer, don’t ask the damn question!’
“Well, if he was the right guy, he wouldn’t have freaked out he would have just accepted your answer and not read too much into it, so that just means he wasn’t the One.” My friend mused.
“Yeah, I guess the lesson here is that sometimes vague is better especially early on in the dating game.” Perhaps too much honesty is not always the best policy.
Friday, November 2, 2007
I got an email from a reader a few days ago and it reminded me of some of the guys that I have dated in the past. I call them the Boomerang Boys. You know these boys, they’re the ones that break up with you or disappear, or maybe you broke up with them. In any event, they go away, but then they come back. Just like a boomerang, you toss it away, but it always comes back to you. It might be the three month booty call or the one year “I can’t live without you” visit, but inevitably, they come back around looking for a do over. And depending on how the relationship ended, we women may even be tempted to give them a mulligan.
I have definitely had my share of the Boomerang Boys. In fact, almost half of the men that I have dated for any length of time (long enough to call it a relationship) have come back wanting to rekindle things. However, I have a no “be backs” rule. I remind myself that these relationships ended for a reason. Why would I want to revisit something that didn’t work the first time? I am not really a glutton for punishment. Pain is not my thing.
Now I know there are people that will say, but Jodi, people change! And yeah, I get it that sometimes people change, but most of the time the only change that has occurred with these guys is that they realize they miss the good parts of being with you. They have blinders on the parts of the relationship that weren’t so good. Or they just want to get back into your bed. Take your pick.
It’s always a bit comical when a boy shows back up, hat in hand wanting to give it another try. So comical, it’s hard not to laugh, but you wouldn't want to be rude. You stand there thinking what in God’s name made this guy come back? Does he not remember that unfortunate incident in the car coming back from his parent's house?
My favorite Boomerang Boy was a guy that I dated for 3 months, who ghosted on me the week of Christmas one year. No phone, call no email, no nothing; he just disappeared. 6 months later he called me and wanted to have a beer. Out of extreme curiosity I went; I wanted to see what his excuse would be. He gave me some crazy story about training for the CIA or something (I could not make this shit up!) and never even apologized. Of course, I knew before I went that I would not date him again (once bitten, twice shy and all that) but I thought he would at least offer me some type of sincere apology for the disappearing act. But nope, nothing. Oh well, live and learn. People are not always what they seem as he would have been the last guy on earth I would have picked to behave that way. But you never know.
Anyone else have any great Boomerang Boy stories?
Wednesday, October 31, 2007
When I got to work that morning, I pulled up an email from my boss with an attachment that he wanted me to work on for him. I dove into the assignment and got it done in a couple of hours. When I finished, I closed the document and went onto something else. The only problem was I forgot to save the document to my computer. Our office network administrator spent the next hour trying to retrieve the assignment for me. I’m sure I was his favorite person that day. He got frustrated with me and no one ever frustrates him! I was on a roll.
Once he found the assignment, I tried to save it again and this time I lost it for good. (In my defense, we were experiencing network problems.) The network guy tried in vain to find the document again but this time it was completely gone and I crashed the entire computer. My day was going down hill fast. I knew something drastic might be in order. I had to figure out a way to start the day over.
One of my oldest and best friends, Colorado Beth, introduced me to the “reset button” concept. She was trying to break her habit of having negative thoughts and every time she would catch herself in her old pattern of thinking negatively, she would mentally hit the reset button in her head and start over. I tried this sitting at my desk but it was not working. It was getting close to lunch anyway, so while the network guy was scrubbing my hard drive (for the 5th time) I decided to go home and have lunch and see if I could somehow reset my karma.
When I got home, I decided I was literally going to start over. I went upstairs got back in bed and took a 20 minute nap. When I woke up, I went through my morning routine again (minus the shower). I brushed my hair, touched up my make up and went downstairs to have a bite of lunch. When I was finished, I brushed my teeth and headed back to work just like I had earlier that morning. The entire time I was going through my routine, I was imagining myself going back to work and finishing the assignment and having every thing go as smoothly as possible.
By the time I got back to the office, I felt very much at peace even though I knew I was going to have to redo that assignment I’d lost. I sat down and got to work on it and finished it even quicker than I had earlier that morning. The rest of the day went great, I had found my reset button and completely turned my day around.
What are some of the ways that you all have for hitting your reset button when you are having a crappy day?
Monday, October 29, 2007
I have never been a particularly unhappy person. In fact, my friend Colorado Beth would tell you that my dominant personality is the somewhat annoyingly optimistic "Pollyanna". Pollyanna is nothing if she is not a cheerleader. Apparently, I love being a cheerleader for men that have it all but don't seem to recognize their own worth.
Unfortunately, those men that I am so excited to prop up and cheer on, do not make very good partners for me. Because they tend to always be so wrapped up in their own misery and dramas, there isn't a lot left over for me when I need a little encouragement. Of course, that leads to disappointment and anger on my part. When I need my "partner" to take the reigns and comfort me for a bit in my time of need; he's wondering where Pollyanna went and who the hell is this needy chick?
All this time, I thought I was looking for a true partner and what I was really attracting (and was attracted to) were wonderful men who weren't happy and were looking for me to help them with that. Everything is great and wonderful until I need something from them in return and that's when it all seems to fall apart.
Well, now that I seem to have pinpointed the issue, now what do I do? I don't know whether I should put down the pom poms or not. I guess it's like deciding not to date men with a ton of drama, when I see that trait come out in the first few dates, I have learned to run. It's just not worth it. I guess I should learn to be my own cheerleader and when I see a guy that seems unhappy with his life (and wants someone to fix that) I should encourage myself to run like the wind.
2,4,6, 8 find another man to date! Go Me! Where the hell is that Pollyanna chick when you need her?
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
“You know the dryer gets a bad reputation for eating socks and other articles of clothing, but really, it’s the washing machine that’s the culprit most of the time.” The plumber mused as he was snaking out my washing machine drain.
Saturday, October 20, 2007
“I don’t know; I lost count.” I said.
“It doesn’t take you long to rule a guy out, does it?” She asked.
“It’s more like most of them ruled me out.” I said.
“Oh….you’re like the one minute wonder, only you’re the Two Date Diva!” She exclaimed. “You can run off any man in two dates or less!”
“Great!" I replied, "Now I have a reputation and a snazzy new nickname.”
Ours was a short lived but complicated liaison. A couple of years ago, we met on an online dating website and we exchanged emails for a couple of weeks. That was our first connection. After a couple of weeks, he hadn’t asked for my phone number yet and I was losing interest and then he ghosted altogether. I was a bit disappointed because he seemed like a great guy, but there were too many fish in the sea to worry about a guy that didn’t even want to talk to me. I moved on.
Nearly a year later, he contacted me again, through the same online dating site. He didn’t seem to remember that we’d had a brief email exchange previously and I decided not to tell him. I figured I would wait and gauge his interest level. Within a couple of emails we had already set a date to meet. Things seemed to be looking up for our second run at the goal. Or so I thought.
Our first date was really great. We met for dinner and the conversation flowed endlessly and easily. After dinner, we even decided to go to a bar downtown and have a beer and keep talking. There was definitely “oomph” for both of us. After finally tearing ourselves away from each other, (actually the bar closed) we decided that we would get together in a week or so for dinner again. I was excited. This seemed to be a promising prospect after all. However, I knew that he had a flakey tendency (as evidenced by his ghosting behavior before) but I was willing to overlook it for the time being. But ,I would definitely keep my antenna up just in case he started to flake on me again.
The second date was even better than the first, no kissing or making out but hours of just sitting and talking and getting to know each other. During this conversation was when he lamented about his music career aspirations. He also let another tid bit slip as well. He talked about a girl that he’d dated a few months back and how that relationship had gone completely awry and she’d ended up stalking him. He had to take a restraining order out on her and move around from one friend’s house to another because she would follow him. Apparently, he’d been blowtorched very badly. It turned out, he’d met her on the same OLD site where we met and he met her about the same time he and I had been emailing the first time. His ghosting made sense. He’s been interested in someone else so he’d disappeared on me. On OLD sites, that tends to happen frequently.
After our discussion, I felt a little better about his flakiness; I felt like he would probably not be apt to disappear this time because we’d actually gone out a couple of times. (I still didn’t tell him that he’d ghosted on me before.) I went home that night with a nice warm hug, (still no kiss) a promise of a phone call to set up another date and a pretty good read on him. It felt like we were both into each other and he might turn out to be a keeper.
And then he ghosted. Again. No email, no phone call, no nothing. I was disappointed for real this time. I knew there was oomph, I’d felt it and I felt it from him too. I had not imagined it. I was not crazy. But, I knew he could be a flake going in to this thing, I reminded myself. It had been three weeks and I hadn’t heard a peep from him. I moved on and kept dating other boys. I put Guitar Man into my “next” pile.
And then I got an email from him out of the blue. He emailed from a different account and it went into my junk folder. Since I check that folder everyday, I knew it was his first email. It was just a short “hope you are doing well” note. He apologized for not contacting me sooner, but he didn’t give a reason for why he had not. He did say he regretted not getting back to me. I almost answered, but my Little Voice spoke up.
Little Voice: You can’t email him, he’s a flake.
Me: He said he was sorry.
Little Voice: Fool me once, shame one you…..
Me: I know the saying!
Little Voice: If he really wanted to date you, he would have figured out a way to get back to you.
Me: I know, I know. But, he was so cute.
Little Voice: He is, at the very least, wounded or confused or something and you don’t want a project, you want a boyfriend.
I knew my Little Voice was right, she always was. I didn’t want a guy that needed to be fixed or that was so wounded he couldn’t even email or pick up the phone and tell me. I wanted a man that was whole and ready to date me. Not a perfect guy, but at least one that knew what he wanted and would go after it. I decided to delete the email and not answer. There really wasn’t anything to say.
Seeing him in the bookstore, I was tempted to walk over and say hi and make small talk, but my Little Voice voted against it. And I knew she was right. Again. I didn't want to make him feel uncomfortable and I didn't want to feel weird either. There still wasn't anything to say. What do you say to a ghost anyway?
“Don’t you want to have a relationship and possibly get married and have kids someday?” He asked.
“Yeah, if the right guy comes along.” I answered.
“Well, you don’t have a lot of time to waste, if you want kids, you are over thirty you know.” He snapped.
Just call me old! That’s going to make me want to date you! I thought. “So… I should just choose you because my biological clock might be ticking? That doesn’t make a whole hell of a lot of sense. Besides, if I decide that I want a child and I’m not married there are always other options.” I responded. I was so mad I was practically foaming at the mouth.
“I’m just saying that you don’t the luxury of time to be so picky, that’s all. If you want to have a family the old fashioned way, you need to think about it now. Here you have a great guy who would be willing to give you all of that and you don’t seem to want to even give him a chance.” He said.
“We’ve only been on three dates!” I yelled. “I don’t even know your middle name! How the hell am I supposed to decide to spend the rest of my life with you and have your children after three dates?!”
“Are you going to give me that tired line about it being you and not me?” He asked.
“No, not at all, because believe me, it’s not me, really it’s you!” I snapped back.
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
I can’t help but wonder if I will be the only single girl at this shindig. I have the feeling that I will be. In honor of my own singleness, I have been trying to come up with fun costume ideas that will fit the occasion. Here is what California Mom and I came up with so far:
1. Dead Bride—a rather obvious but classic choice. I wonder if the bride-to-be will actually choose this costume though.
2. Brides Maid with gunshot wound to the head—this conveys the feeling of many women who have bought their 20th grotesque bridesmaid’s dress (that they will never wear again) and would rather shoot themselves than have to go to one more wedding, especially if they have to go alone. (Maybe she’s the one that killed the dead bride?)
3. (My personal favorite) Slutty Flower Girl—She’s dressed way inappropriately for a wedding, but damn she’s a lot fun!
4. Pregnant Redneck Bride--Nothing like a mom-to-be in a wedding dress, carrying a 40 oz. and a pack of cigarettes.
Any other suggestions? I’m open!
It’s funny how that works. You spend your teenage years thinking you know it all and by the time your mid-twenties roll around, reality has slapped you in the face with the lesson that you REALLY didn’t know anything! And it seems that the more knowledge you acquire, the more apparent it becomes that you know less and less.
Take dating for example. When I started to date regularly (after the break up of a long term relationship) I had no idea what I didn’t know. Who the hell knew that all of the rules had changed? Somebody should have clued me in. I found myself deep into a game that I didn’t know the rules for, but even worse, everyone seemed to being playing by different versions of their own rules. Confusion was not quite the word for it. Perhaps clusterfuck would be a much better word. But, I have trudged on.
I am, by no means, a victim in any of this. I have chosen to go out with every man that I have dated. I take full responsibility for those men that I just didn’t feel the “oomph” for and I totally understood when a guy just didn’t feel it for me. However, there were a few men in the pile that left me scratching my head and many of my friends wondering if I had become a freak magnet. Heavy emphasis on the freak. But at least I had a lot of great stories and a few lessons learned (the hard way).
This brings me to why I started this blog. I know that there are other women like me out there. The lone single girl in her group of friends or the girl everyone has tried to set up on a date, but to no avail. She’s a great girl, everyone says so! No one can figure out why she’s still single because she’s dated most of the single men in town. Everyone knows THAT girl, she’s a serial dater. She dates a ton of men, but not many of them are keepers (at least not for very long). THAT girl would be me. Welcome to my world. Hopefully you will be able to relate to some of the things that come out of my head and some of my experiences. Hell, maybe you can even tell me what I am doing wrong!