Burnt Toast

So, I guess I'm going to tell the story again after all.

Toasty was perfect. Cute, tall, charming, understanding, and an amazing cuddler. He said all these wonderful things. Like how he wants kids, would be willing to move to my town (He lives about 90 minutes out), that I deserve the best of everything, that I'm gorgeous. But then, on our second date, he wore sweatpants, made no plans, and expected me to put out.

I can't even tell you how upset I was. The man who said he didn't smoke, left to get cigarettes. "I only smoke when I drink", he said. But he'd also told me that he'd quit drinking. You know, after his second DUI and all. However, I did watch him single handedly down a bottle of Beringer White Zin.

Let's all be serious for a second. A grown man drinking pink wine is a major turn off. Especially, when it's something as cheap as Beringer. And let's not talk about how it was the 1.5 liter bottle. That's the equivalent of TWO bottles for those of us who know anything about wine. Two bottles of wine and five cigarettes in less than 2 hours by a man who quit drinking and doesn't smoke.

Then he asked if I wanted to "f**k" him and when I rejected his charming advance, he said, "That's OK. You can just get me off in the morning". Now, I'm not opposed to manual or oral stimulation but I was absolutely floored by his audacity.

Add in the fact that he told me that he was openly talking to other women and you can see why our two week relationship hit the rocks. His goodbye text went like this, "Hey.. Sorry I didn't get back to you.. I not sure about us.. I mean, you turned me down on alot of stuff.. I dont want a woman that turns me down.."

So, I told him that I want a man that's willing to compromise. Not someone who insists on controlling the remote even though I've expressed that I hate this particular show. Or who wants to take a picture of my naked breasts. Or who thinks that he's going to be having sex with me while chatting up other women.

He seemed so promising. He really put on an excellent show. And the whole time I was with him all I could do was wonder where the wonderful man I'd met just days before had disappeared to and what I would have to do to get him back. But I don't want him back. Because the man I fell for was never really there. Awesome.

It's amazing how hard it is to find someone that you actually want to spend time with. I'm talking to at least four different men right now which is absolutely ridiculous if you ask me. Plus, it's super stressful. Why couldn't Toasty just act right? Sigh. 

Meeting Mr. Right On Time

We all know how hard it is to find someone that we would actually want to spend the rest of our lives with. For those of us that didn't come across him before age 28, it's getting harder everyday. For the umpteenth time, I've turned to online dating. Except, I went the free route. I can't even make you understand how awesome and yet exhausting it has been.

I met someone immediately who seemed like he was worth the time I was investing. He said all the right things. Remembered the smallest details. Schmoozed my mom and sisters by phone. Begged me to bring my dog to his place so that I could stay the night. And then... wore sweatpants. Like, actual grey sweatpants. He was SUPER comfortable in a relationship that was only weeks old.

I won't dwell on it anymore. I've told the story at least 4 times and each time I become even more exasperated. Let's just chalk it all up to a waste of time. Eh. It could be worse.

However, in a fit of spite and anger, I did plan a drinks date with someone else. Then, I told him I was doing it. Because I am a highly sought after woman! AND IF HE COULDN'T FIGURE THAT OUT ON HIS OWN THEN I WAS GOING TO SHOW HIM!

It might have come across as a tad bit crazy.

Oh, well.

Let's suffice it to say that I was none too thrilled about having to get dressed up again for another man that would very likely be wearing sweatpants. Especially one that didn't have the strong jaw and piercing green eyes.

But I was not let down. The Engineer is different. He has a career and a genuine interest in me. I found it funny that we flowed easily into a conversation about electrical work all because I caught him staring at the industrial ceiling. He gets my jokes. And when I told him about my beliefs, he accurately described it as "spiritual but not religious". I was so caught off guard that I could only stare wide-eyed.

He has brothers and sisters and gets why it's important for a kid to have both. And if you read our profiles, it looks like one plagiarized the other. We both love the local festivals and are eagerly learning the city. He even likes live music.

I don't know when I'll ever learn to stop judging books by their covers. I don't know that I ever will. All I know is that The Engineer wants to see me again... on Saturday... night... and I couldn't be more excited.

Only Because You Asked

Cake Betch was kind enough to put me on Front Street and call me out on my feelings for The Scorpio. Because she asked, I will answer. But know that I will still publish the other post I've been working on tentatively titled "If Game Recognizes Game, What Does Lame Recognize?". I know. It's a work in progress.

Now, I'm going to write something here that I wish I didn't have to write because I think it's a cop out. But when it comes to describing my relationship with The Scorpio this is the only phrase that fits: It's Complicated.

Do I love him? Yes. With my whole heart. (And if you ever tell him that I said it wrote it, I will deny it, fart on your face while you sleep and burn this post to the ground). But sometimes, my dears, love ain't enough.

We don't see things the same way.

I never ask for anything. I'm sure that's why I'm not as stellar at my job as I could be. It would require asking my boss for tools and/or deals and I'm just not gonna do it. If you want me to have something, you should give it to me, otherwise I will learn to live without it. He asks for everything. all. the. time. The Scorpio treats the universe like a personal Quik-E-Mart. If you say no, he's sure that someone else will say yes and he'll just ask them.

So basically, I end up giving and not getting. This is a problem. It's a problem because I won't say that I'm not getting. I just... change. I get eerily quiet. I walk much more softly. I lose interest in being around you. Because how long can you give and not get before the well runs dry? At some point it has to rain or there will be no more water. You see what I'm saying?

Then there are our personalities. I'm loud, spontaneous, outgoing, adventurous and generally up for anything new. I've been to four continents and daydream about the three I've yet to see. I live for change and he does not. He can't imagine living anywhere else but here. Even though his business would thrive out west or further south, he can't make himself do it. He's attached to everything while I'm attached to nothing. He thinks I'm flighty and I think he's stoic.

And it's really that last sentence that's the problem.

The Scorpio internalizes everything. He very rarely says how he feels or what he's thinking so I never know. I need to be told that I'm wanted and appreciated. That's what makes me feel loved. Without love, doubt creeps in and all of the little things that normally mean nothing suddenly mean everything. No relationship can survive with the hairline fractures in it's foundation.

So... we're friends. As friends we can laugh, have dinner, joke, and be completely open without the pressures of meeting each other's standards. Yeah, it's a cop out and I know it but what do you want from me? I don't have the patience to wait until he's sure that this ship will cross the ocean. I feel like he should know that I'm what he wants and he doesn't. At least he hasn't said it. And if he hasn't said it then to me it isn't real.

And by the way, I totally want a California King. My parents had one when I was growing up because my dad is 6'4". I'm so jealous of you and your quality sleep that it's ridiculous.

Total Control

I laughed so hard my side started hurting. It was unreal to me at first. Mentally, I knew I was ok but my panicky side tried to kick in because I wasn't breathing and what I was experiencing just wasn't normal. I was laughing uncontrollably. It's quite possible that I wet myself a little bit.

Why?

Because he wants Total Control.

It doesn't read as funny as it sounds in my head but I promise you that it is.

I have control issues. This is not a secret.

Yesterday, a good friend asked me if I found myself in relationships with weak men because I am so strong and forceful. I told her "No" and that's the truth. I don't find myself in relationships with weak men because weak men don't have the courage to approach strong women. I find myself in relationships with strong men who perpetrate weakness thinking that it will appease me.

There's nothing I hate more than to ask a man where he wants to go for dinner and to receive "I don't care", "I don't know", or "You pick" as the response. If I had wanted to pick, I would have said, "Let's go to such-and-such for dinner" or "I feel like blankety-blank". Because the same person that tells you that you're an overbearing bitch who won't let him be a man is the same person who defers every decision (major or minor) to you.

I can't "let" you be a man. Either you are or you aren't. And if you were the man for me, we wouldn't be having this fight.

The best relationship of my life was with a complete and utter asshole. I loved him inside and out for all that he was and all that he offered. I trusted him with every fiber of my being. And it was only because he could make a decision. When J said something would get done, it got done. When he wanted to do something, he made it known. If he was unhappy, it was expressed. There was no moping around being sulky and passive-aggressive; I don't have time for that anyway.

I didn't trust J at first either. I lived through a lot of bull shit before I met him including a broken engagement. He watched me swoon over Sofa Guy and when he'd had enough of my whining and complaining he said, "Oh dear God! You're not his girlfriend! You're just some girl that he's f*cking!".

It's safe to say that I lost my shit all over him.

I told him to get out, get lost, and never come back.

Two weeks later my phone rang. I picked it up without uttering a syllable and he said, "Was I right?". I told him he was. "I didn't wanna be". He told me that he wanted to be with me. That nothing and no one else mattered. J said that if I could manage to get my head out of my ass I would see that he was in love with me. This is not the stuff that movies are made of but it's the kind of love that I need.

He knew that everyday with me was a test. I was waiting for him to make a promise that he wouldn't keep. I weighed everything he said hoping to find a lie. But he never let me down. And when I finally let myself, I fell so head-over-heels-bluebirds-singing-come-on-get-happy in love that giving him control came easy. I wanted to please him because he made me happy every single day. I knew that if I fell he'd be right there to catch me and in the off chance that he missed, he'd be there to pick me up. Who could want more than that?

Am I saying that we never argued? No, of course not. But he always stood his ground and sometimes we'd walk away angrier and with nothing settled but at least he let me walk away.

So many men are so possessive and afraid of losing me that I want to run away. There's something powerful about a man that knows I'm coming back. Sure, I'm angry. Sure, I'm leaving the room. But don't you know that I want you? How many ways do I have to say it/ show it/ live it before you really believe it? J always believed it. His belief in me, in us, made me believe it to.

These last five years without J have made me a much harder woman than I was before. Trusting doesn't come easy and my love doesn't come cheap. There are more steps on the path to Total Control. But if you really think you deserve it and you really think I'm worth it, quit your bitching and get on the trail.

Is Forgiveness Appropriate Here?

The Scorpio and I had dinner on Friday. What's important to note is that I didn't kill him. What's second to that is that I actually laughed with him. What's tearing me up inside is that I'm ready to forgive him.

If you don't know the chapter of my life that is the Scorpio Saga then I'm sorry but I'm not going to recount it here. You can read this post again but I don't know if that would help because there was a major fall out in the summer to which he claims to have no recollection. That is why this man drives me nuts.

He can be acutely aware that I'm angry but still hasn't accepted that I'm a champion grudge holder. He thought that because I yelled at him in June that I was totally over it now. But I told him that there was no way he was getting off that easy. Some of the things he said to me were over-the-top and utterly ridiculous.

To which he said he was sorry. He admitted that he was an asshole and he didn't realize how much until after I broke up with him. He said he wants to earn back the level of trust I had in him when we were first together. How can you be mad at that? Well, how can I be mad at that?

We sat in hard, wooden chairs for more than three hours and just talked. I felt like I was getting to know who he was for the first time in all the years we've known each other. And it was... nice.

The atmosphere was relaxed. We mixed jokes with more serious conversation and laid out all of our concerns on the table. There were tales of our relationship past that we each remembered differently. Apparently, I was so tired one night that, when he tried to initiate sex, I told him, "Do what you want. I'm going to sleep". Which sounds exactly like something I would say.

We talked about the break up and it seems we both feel like we broke up at different times. I feel like it was the day I told him that I couldn't date him anymore because he was a mooch that wanted me to rent a car for him and his friends to drive to Tennessee. But we did sleep together for an entire winter after that. And he might have seen me with someone else and been outraged that I would cheat on him! But I didn't think I was cheating because I thought I had broken up with him hence my nonchalant attitude.

He thinks the day we broke up was the day we sat in my car and I told him that we were only going to be friends from that point on. The Scorpio even broke down what I was wearing and how my hair looked. He says that I cried and I did. I remember that night. I cried because I wanted him to have a reaction and instead he just stared out the windshield and (after a prolonged silence) said "What if that's not what I want". To which I responded that he didn't have a choice because I was seeing someone else and I wasn't going to cheat on that guy with him. So, he got out of the car and we didn't talk again until last April. Even when we saw each other out at the same place, we'd just nod and move on.

I don't know how to explain all of this except to say that I miss him. I really, truly miss having him around. He's the only person I know that will let me snuggle with him, drool on him and snore loudly without complaining. He's always ready to go out and have fun and he dresses me better than any of my gay friends ever could. You can't buy that in a store.

I guess what I'm saying is: "Sometimes you forgive people simply because you want them in your life." - The Noteboook. It's not the most profound thing I've ever read but it is simple enough to be true. And it totally allows me to justify my feelings. That'll have to work.

Are You There, Blog?

Holla!

In the last week I've been doing lots of crazy things and hanging with all the crazy people I know. And when you're hanging with real-live peeps your blog peeps suffer. Never fear! I'm sure I'll be back in full force soon... Maybe.. don't hold your breath.

But while I was gone, I want to assure you that nothing super exciting has happened at all. Not at all. I did not have dinner with a friend where he revealed he was in a relationship with a married woman. I, in no way, had an epic battle, heroic crusade, or marathon melee with my mother. I don't even know why I would mention it. No one asked for my advice on how to step on out into the dating world after having a serious convo with his baby mama in which they decided that they would "co-parent" their son despite the gaping distance. I did not blurt out that Ke$ha "has no fucking talent" and "sucked a lot of dicks to get here" in the middle of a bar.

Ashton, however, did show his ass in true form and opened every gift that Nat bought. Even the ones that weren't for him. Which, incidentally, is how she discovered that he can neither read nor recognize his name. At the age of 4. And a half. Going on 5. Where he'll start school. Next fall. I have to stop writing now because my ear is touching my shoulder and my voice can't go higher.

A delivery boy almost died on my icy steps because some bung hole stole my $2.99 bag of sidewalk salt. So I put half a jar of $4.39 sea salt down until I could get to the store. It obvs is not the same. Jenny, The Bloggess, blew me away with her generosity and I guess I'm not the only one. It's INTERNATIONAL NEWS, People! I just wish I had been able to be a part of it.

Striped Shirt Steve and I are... well... that's not your business now is it?

I gets my Nook tonight. I have a $25 B&N gift card and then a fistful of free money courtesy of some of my colleagues. Plus, I read the damned tutorial and discovered that Google has eBooks as well so all is not lost and I may not return the thing from whence it came after all. Aaaaand, my library is going to start free eBook "check out" on the 27th. So all in all, this holiday doesn't suck donkey balls but perhaps only monkey balls. Those are cleaner as they aren't so close to the ground.

I'm off to Christmas #2 of 3. I'm really excited for Saturday though! That's when me and the girlies are going to do our Christmas thing. Someone once said that "friends are the family you pick for yourself". They were right but should have added "...and enemies are dung nuggets that God accidentally gave life".

A Tale of Two Suitors

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times...

No, really. I was seeing two guys at once. I know that I never really told you that I was seeing/talking to either one of them, but I did allude to them on Tuesday. Here's what happened. S is someone I've known for four years now. And there were no fireworks when we met. He was going through some tough times having lost his job and subsequently his home. I showed him I was interested but could never be there for what was most important to him. Band gigs. He's the bass player and lead singer in his band and I always said I would be there but never actually made it. Another girl stepped in and they were together until mid-September this year. I saw my second chance and wasted (almost) no time taking it...

M is someone that I met when my sister worked at the local Italian restaurant chain. He's a server there. He was always the center of scandal because no one knew for sure if he and his gf really were broken up. I mean, they were still living together! He said it was because of their infant son. Well, that infant is a preschooler now and what's worst is that M is not the father. Four years he took care of that little boy; four years he was lied to. I've always found M attractive and when he friend requested me on Facebook, he got the OK simply because I think he's hot. His birthday is in July and I made sure to wish him a hearty Facebook Happy Birthday. In return, he private messaged me...

When S first revealed that things fell apart with his ex, I offered to listen and he took me up on that offer. I thought that maybe he wasn't really ready to start over. But then, like before, he started to send me song lyrics (that make no damn sense!) and he asked me to a real dinner date. I went and it didn't feel date-y. It felt like two people who had drifted apart trying to find out who the other person is. Like we were a distant married couple or something. I don't claim to know a lot about relationships and love but that just didn't feel "right". So, I stopped paying him so much attention. AND he totally picks the Browns over the Bengals. I just don't know if we can ever get past that. Don't judge me. Football = my religion...

M and I talked through private message until I got bored, so, maybe an hour? Then he disappeared. I didn't think anything of it. It's not like he belonged to me; he's not a toy. But right when I started packing to move, he began texting me. At first, it was all at night. In the middle of the night. Which all girls know is a bad sign. You cannot allow it because then they will put you in the "ho" category and I've already spent more time there than I care to admit. He finally picked up the phone and called me and asked me to "hang out". I told him that I couldn't but we could grab a quick bite by my new place if he was willing to drive. He was so we did. It was awesome. The way it's supposed to feel. I was all fluttery and he was super attentive. And then I thought, "Am I being played?". Because I honestly don't have time in my life for games and distractions...

That's why on Tuesday morning I sent them a mass text that said that I just didn't think we had chemistry but I love being with them as friends. S has not responded. M responded last night. He wants to talk. He misses me. I have so much going on in my head that I've pretty much shut down in every avenue of my life. To work this whole guy situation out, I had to make a list.

Education: M wins - he is working at night to pay his way through school.
Profession: tie - M is a server and S is a transport tech in a hospital, neither is really a profession.
Facial Hair: M wins - he has a short beard! Yum! S has peach fuzz on his lip that I think is a moustache.
Body: M wins - he has a runner's body but S has a cuddly teaddy bear type body.
Height: M wins - he's an even 6 feet and 2" taller than S.
Kids: tie - neither has any.
Personality: M. wins. hands. down. - he's so vibrant and outgoing. S is sooooo sensitive and "good". One of my friends gets all dreamy eyed when I tell her about him because that's exactly how she wants her sons to be. I feel so bad that he loses here because he is, quite literally, a mother's dream for her daughter.
Parent Readiness: this is less about him wanting to be a father and more about whether or not I'd feel confident about letting him meet my parents - S wins.
Just Gets Me: M wins - he's most like me. I can be myself 1000% around him. With S I feel like I have to be careful what I say because he'll take it wrong.

You see how M wins? Right. This confuses me because he wins in all the areas that don't really matter for reasons that don't matter. I can't close my eyes and see me spending the rest of my life (or the rest of the week) with him. It's just that S reminds me of my father. He's so passive and I already know that I won't survive a relationship with someone like that.

If I could take M's good looks, personality, outgoing nature, and ambition and pair them with S's (<-- does that look right?) sweetness, artistic creativity, and total parent meeting preparedness, I'd be getting hitched!

P.S. - 212 days and Nat's focused on the music that she wants played. I had to be all, "Do you not like Michael Buble'?" and she was all, "I forgot". How do you forget Michael Buble'? Oh, Nat. So silly.

Creepy NorthWest Vendor

It's not every day that men meet a girl like me. I'm quite attractive when I put in the work and very self-assured. I also ooooooooze sex appeal. Secretly, I know that it's seeping through my pores. The sight of any man instantly kicks my pheromones into high gear. It's not something that I try to do, it's just physiological.

As much fun as this was when I was in my teens, it is now full-on annoying. Because it's never the sexy suits that approach me and vie for my attention but the arrogant do-nothings that feel like they should bebop their crazy asses over here and waste my time. *gives nausea inducing eye roll* I've been given the speech about reporting sexual harassment on the job but I hesitate to do so because if I reported every instance they would begin to think that it is me.

There was Rude North West Vendor who told me that I shouldn't focus so much on my career because I'd be 30 before I knew it and men his age wanted women in their 20s, if I knew what he meant. Then there are my customers who insist on requesting long-distance relationships with me or call "just to see how your day is going". I've had people call my desk to ask if I am the voice on the prompts and if I could do that voice for them. Even sales reps have plied me with vodka and sprite hoping beyond hope that I'd forget my name, my keys, or how to drive to my home (I never do). But none of them can compare to Creepy Northwest Vendor.

It started innocently enough at my first sales meeting. He came over and introduced himself and struck up a conversation about me. I answered the simple questions and avoided the probing ones. And I really didn't think anything of it until he showed up again. And again. And again. But I continued to avoid him and stayed with the people I knew. The next morning at the meetings word went out that he bedded another vendor. .)(Better her than me.)

The next year, I was dating the Australian. This is the year that Rude North West Vendor and Creepy North West Vendor made their intentions known in an implied sort of way. RNWV managed to catch on if only because I told him that I was in a very serious relationship and wouldn't ruin that for anything. But Creepy just kept on pressing even going so far as to sit next to me at dinner. I told him then that I was in a serious relationship but he wasn't deterred. And when the Australian called, he beseeched me not to take the call. "He can wait", he said. I took the call.

The third year, Creepy waltzed over to me and asked if I were married to my Australian. The fact that he remembered something that personal a year later caught me off guard. And when I told him that our relationship hadn't worked out he seemed too sympathetic. He offered to take me to drinks to talk it out. But I wasn't sad; not anymore at least. We all parted ways after the company's casino night. As I left to go to my car, he followed me out and asked where the after party was. I told him that I didn't know as I hadn't intended to go. (Honestly, I did know and I was going but there was no way I was telling him that! Why? Read on.) He was surprised because there's always an after party. It could be in someone's hotel room, the hotel bar, or a regular bar but there's always an afters. When I told him that I wasn't going, he asked if I could give him a ride to his hotel and then maybe we could have drinks there. I politely declined and told him that one of the salesmen would be his best bet and that I had to get going because I lived so far away. He legitimately seemed let down.

Our next event was one held for our Top 100 customers. We had another casino night and I was playing Black Jack because it's the only game I can seemingly control. Sure enough, there he was, making his way to me, Sam Adams in hand. All night he brought me beer after beer, often replacing half-filled warm ones. I feel so bad for him. He's trying so very, very hard. But at this point, it's so creepy that I wouldn't even pity eff him. Plus, he's absurdly unattractive.

I thought that I was the only one who realized how obsessed he seems with me. But I'm not. Everybody can see. Add that to the South East Vendor with the Ross Gellar hair cut who seems to always have my name in his mouth and I'm gonna be in a world of trouble for the next 3 days.

Doesn't Every Post Deserve a Title

Scene: I'm driving the "Mom Van" to my local grocery store. I debate whether I should detour and get carry-out chicken wings instead. I know I shouldn't because my pantry and freezer and quite literally spilling over with food. But still...

Cilantro. Tomatoes. Chips.
Cilantro. Tomatoes. Chips.
That's all we're gonna buy because that's all we need for guacamole.
Ooooh! B-Dubs! Today is wing Tuesday...
No! No, J-Bird! Cilantro. Tomatoes. Chips.

Damn this traffic!
"Hey, Asshole!" *honks horn for 10 solid seconds before realizing she looks like a murderous stepmother*

*gas light comes on* Cheese and Rice! I'm definitely getting chicken now.

Scene: In the grocery store produce section.

Cilantro. Avocado? No, I have those. I should get another one though. Mmm, jalapenos. I'll get one of those too; make it spicy.

Where are the tomatoes? I should have totally scoped this place out before I was hungry.

What was that last thing?

Me: Huh?
Grocery Store Produce Guy: Are you finding everything OK?
Me: Oh, yup. Except tomatoes. Do you only have these super expensive because you cut them from the plant but left the vine intact and then squished them into an ill-fitting plastic container tomatoes? Or can I get some regular ones?
GSPG: The other ones are over here.
Me: Cool beans.

As you can see, my grocery trip was pretty mundane. It's the standard food acquisition attempt. I continued to walk around aimlessly, feigning interest in the store's displays while looking for the perfect tortilla chip with which to consume my planned dinner.

No way! Tostitos on sale!?! Bust a move! *begins to dance foolishly in the snack aisle*

I walk toward the registers to see him. My Ex. The African.

**Confidently, I walk past him with my basket swinging off my arm. He doesn't notice me so I begin to scan my loyalty card secretly hoping that the loud hussy will say my full name in a tone that he can hear at his register. She lets me down. I need help finding the produce code on an item. Fortunately, the cashier assistant is in close proximity.

Me (voice tinkling like a tiny bell): Excuse me, miss? My tomatoes don't have a produce number and I don't see them on this screen. Are you able to help me?
Miss: Sure. This button here and voila! You're all set.
Me: Why thank you so kindly.
The African: J-Bird!?! Is that you?
Me: The African? *smiles gently and extends hand for cordial shake* I barely noticed you. How have you been?
The African: Oh my god! You look great! Are you losing weight?
Me: You noticed? Thank you for noticing. ***Nolan says that he can't tell a difference what with seeing me everyday and all.
The African: Nolan? You're married.
Me: No, you know I don't believe in it. But we did just have our first baby, Storey. They're around here somewhere.
The African: Uh huh. *gives me skeptical look*
*Up walks my super sexy baby machine. Tall like Brady Quinn, face like Freddie Prinze Jr, hair like John Krasinski, and super dedicated with our baby strapped to his chest. Think that one time that Carrie saw Aiden being all happily married with his baby strapped to his chest, only I'm Aiden and being super snarkily bitchy about it.*
Me: Yup.
*Nolan grabs our groceries and I grab his hand as our super adorable baby who obviously just got picked up for a Gerber commercial coos gently.*

Fin.
Or maybe...

OH. MY. GAWD. Did he see me? Stand still, J-Bird, stand still. No, he doesn't see me. OK. OK. He's on the phone. We can do this. Just back up slowly and silently.

*runs two aisles over*

Oh! Perrier! With lemon! Well, we're gonna get two of those. Yay, us!

*tip toes sneakily to the Self Checkout behind The African*

We can do this. We can get out of here and he'll never have to know we were this close. Dammit! Come on you bastard jalapeno, scan!

Dammit! Oh! She'll help me.

Me: Excuse me.

*woman continues to walk away*

Me: Excuse me.

She's gonna make me chase her?

Me: Excuse me, miss!

Oh, I know this bitch can here me!

Me: Hey! Excuse! Me!
Her: Oh! I didn't even see you! lolololololol
Mmmhmmm. You gonna make me get all...

The African: J-Bird! Hey!

Me: Ack!

Her: You made her just about jump out her skin. lololololol (she is quite the cackle-y bitch, isn't she?)

The African: How are you?

Me: Um, well, I'm good. I've started eating again. heh.

What the hell is wrong with you? He can look at your fat ass and tell that you've been eating! You're in a grocery store! Get it together, Bird! Get your head in the game!

The African: What have you been up to?

Me (ferociously bagging groceries): OK. Bye. ****

He looked so sad. It's quite obvious that I'm avoiding him like the plague. What's worst is that I wanted to say was, "How am I? I'm trying to figure out why you get to stand here looking all GQ with your dark jeans, purple striped button down and fantastic leather wing tips while I'm here in shorts that say '*    S    T    A    R' and breaking out like a 16-year-old, Halo-playing virgin". But I didn't because I couldn't find my tongue. There's something about his dark, bespectacled, statuesque body that makes me absolutely stupid.

And then? When I went to get wings? The Trainer was in B-Dubs. I cannot believe that I went through all of that to change my phone number and still managed to come into contact with both of these fools.

You wouldn't happen to have a plane ticket I could borrow?


** Events recorded here may or may not be based on actual occurrences or delusions of grandeur.

*** Is that not the perfect man name?

**** If I'm a punk, you're mom's a bowling ball. Yeah, deal with that.

No Means No In At Least Six Languages

Three times!

I KNOW!!

Whoot! Whoot! All aboard the Crazy Train! First Stop: 6 hour courtship!

See, it happened like this...

********** flashback music and fairytale dust **********

Rollback: I'm glad that I could change your mind.

Me: Excuse me?

Rollback: I'm sure that now that you know the facts you understand.

Me: No.

Rollback: What?

Me: You didn't change my mind. I respect your position but I am steadfast in my beliefs. It upsets me that your only goal was to change my mind about what I believe.

Rollback: But I gave you the facts!

Me: And?

Rollback: Aww, well.

*** pause ***

*** pause, pause ***

Rollback(Cue sickly sweet, more disturbing than romantic voice): I guess now that we've had our serious conversation we should just get married. (cue horror movie scream)

Me: Excuse me? (I say that a lot when I'm at a loss for words)

Rollback: We should just get married.

Me: No.

Rollback: Yeah. We should just get married.

Me: Ummm... well. I know I should be flattered but I'm not. This has to be the shortest courtship in the history of proposals. So, no.

********** back to life... back to reality... **********

You would think that this would be the only [three] time(s) he proposed, but if it were then I wouldn't have grounds for legitimately thinking he's got a half dozen screws loose.

Every day he would call me at the most ridiculous hours. 9:30 am, 2:30 pm. I know that it shouldn't seem like this is a stupid idea but I work the normal 9 - 5 and I told him this. His calling me during business hours is blatant disrespect for my effort to pay my own bills. And it proves that he never, ever listened to me. Not once.

The next night he called was a Wednesday. I was sitting with my mom in her kitchen talking about him (believe it or not) and just how ludicrous his theories are. When I told him that I couldn't talk because I was having dinner with my mom, his response was, "So, you live with your mother?". Umm, no! How can that be your natural assumption? Finally, I told him that we were on our way out to church and to not call me because I would call him. Actually, I went out with Averi and Staci that night. Regardless, at the end of that 14 minute phone call, he asked me to marry him again. The answer was still no.

The rest of the week passed with me ignoring his calls because I didn't have the emotional strength to go forward with what would inevitably be equivalent to me talking to a wall or arguing with Pat Robinson... pointless. I finally answered him again on Saturday but only on the second attempt because the first time he called me at SEVEN O'CLOCK IN THE MORNING! Who, in their right mind, calls anyone before 9 am on any given day? Who, I ask you! Granted, I was already on the phone because I have a standing 7:30 am phone date with my daddy every Saturday but his call was still unwelcome.

When we talked it was only briefly. I told him twice that I was going to be busy that day and just picked up out of curiosity. He wasn't listening. He kept rambling on. So, I finally set the phone down, walked away, and got in the shower. When I came out, I had missed 3 calls. *gives you the face of someone who doesn't care*

I lost my phone that night and didn't get a replacement until Tuesday. He called and, like a fool, I answered. He said he thought I'd changed my number on him. I only wish I had. I kept that conversation short using family dinner and my busy schedule on deck as my excuses. The next day we went to Cedar Point and he called me three times, even though I told him that I was busy with family. Three times! and when I told Mom all she managed to do was berate me for not having dismissed him yet. (Although, she thoroughly disapproved of my phone "incident").

Thursday came and he called like I knew he would. It had been a long day but a successful one. I had just come from signing my new lease and was on an adrenaline high. I was going to take charge of that conversation and for the first time in a week, he was going to listen to me. I talked about Nat and my worries for her. I talked about my new place and how quaint it is. I talked about my car and about how it needs work. I talked about my finances and how I'm on a track toward financial freedom. I talked for 12 minutes. Just twelve. And I continued to change the topic because every time I took a breath he would interject.

With Nat, he could only hope that "she don't get hooked up with no nigga and get preehhgnent". My new place couldn't be as nice as his house in Atlanta and I could "live [there] instead if I was willing to relocate". My car could be fixed by the guy he knows and he'd pay for it if we got married. He's been saving for years! He is an avid advocate of saving your money and that's why we should just get "meehhreed". If we got married then he would take care of all of that stuff for me and I'd never have to worry again. Because when he gets married this time, it's gonna be forever; he's never getting divorced again. They'll be together until they die.

Let me tell you something about Sag Girls:

• ...the sign of Sagittarius [is] often referred to as the “The bachelor sign,”
• She is a girl who enjoys a great sense of personal freedom
• Sagittarius women are quite independent and love their freedom.
• The word 'marriage' makes a Sagittarian female a little [ALOT] nervous

Now, for all my Sag sisters out there who got roped down, you know that the statements above still ring true. It's just your love was smart enough to be strong but kind, firm but lenient, and  to let you miss him.

And for the ones that came before your love? They got dismissed... just like Rollback. Only he didn't take it well...

Bigotry: A Phone Date or Why Black People Shouldn't Play In the Snow

I called him back a few minutes after 10p. This was before I knew he was crazy and bigoted so you can stop judging me.


The conversation started off simple enough. He talked like we were in high school. Like he really wanted to know me.


Rollback: "What's your favorite color?"
Me: "Teal."
Rollback: "What?"
Me: "Teal."
Rollback: "Huh?"
Me: "Blue."
Rollback: "Oh, OK."


See? He's well beneath me. And I know what you're thinking. "Gosh, she thinks highly of herself!" but he really isn't worth the pages in the history of my life that he is currently taking up. When he asked if I like amusement parks and I told him yes, he gave me the run down on why he doesn't like rides. No matter that I like rides because there's only one reason to go to Six Flags (God forbid he go to another amusement park) and that's funnel cake. I am a funnel cake purist. I like it with powdered sugar. He told me how he likes to pile his high with ice cream, strawberries and whipped cream. And then when we go to Six Flags that's how he's going to get my funnel cake so I can try it because once I try it I won't go back. I'm sure I told him twice that I won't eat it because it's too much. But he couldn't hear me over his constant exclamation of how that's "ALL I KNOW!".


Funny thought here. Can you learn something new if you won't shut your mouth long enough to hear it?
All that aside, he finally asked me a burning question. Do I date white guys? I told him I date all sorts of men. I really don't care how "he" comes along as long as he comes in a suit! I explained that my last real relationship was two years ago with an Australian (my gaaawwwddd did I love him. His eyes, his accent, his tongue, his hands, the magic he worked with the latter two. Yeah. You know what I'm saying *eyebrow waggle* Right? Right? Yeeeeeaaaaahhhh.)


Can I say that my response didn't go over well? You know what? I can't. Because that would be the greatest understatement in the history of the world! He LOVES his black people! How could I want to mix myself with men whose nature it is to dominate? How could I want to desecrate our heritage by blending with them? He would NEVER "play in the snow"! He loves his black people.


He hates white men because they view black women as exotic. "Animals are exotic!"


Did you know that my parents would never date outside their own race? Funny, because I didn't. My dad's new girlfriend is Italian. And my mom's husband is half Irish. When I told him that, his response was... wait for it... you're gonna love this... "I don't believe you. You're lying. My generation would never have that much disrespect for our people". (I know, right!)


Did you know that there was a black stock market but the white man burned it down? No, you didn't, liar! But now that I know the only question I ask is, "Why didn't they rebuild?". You can burn a building but not an idea.


Did you know that the most dangerous race are white people? (Lumped together, of course. Wouldn't want to allow a massive group of people to be defined by their ancestors individual countries of origin) Why? Well, I'm glad you asked. (Queue deep thinking voice of revelation) You see Nate (his one white friend), told him that blacks walk around with guns and knives to kill each other. But if a white man wanted to all he would have to do is create a biological weapon that would wipe out a whole country.


And you know what? That got him thinking about how dangerous white people are. You wanna know what else? It got me thinking about how ridiculously stupid he is. I asked him why a black man could invent the lottery, the stop light and open heart surgery but not biological weapons. Did he not see that he was pigeon holing his own people? My bad! I wasn't aware that black people don't have that much hatred in them. Except for that one time they sold each other to white men to be slaves, but other than that...


After being told that it was my duty, as someone who got out of the ghetto (let me interject here and say that I was never in the ghetto. I don't know what it's like. I lived in the same suburb as JC Chasez. But Rollback doesn't know that because he doesn't listen.) to come back to the hood and give a helping hand to those are still lost in the system. What The Fuck! Negro, please! I don't have it in me to give hand outs. But according to him that's just wrong. How can I not give a hand?


I was told that black people hold 5% of America's wealth and that if we would all just go back then we could rebuild this country and stop the corruption. I was adamant that I'm not going to Africa! There's nothing there for me. My inheritance is here, in America. I'm a fourth generation American. He's so concerned with "them" testing my DNA and classifying me as an African-American and I made it clear that I don't care what other people think of me or how they choose to classify me. The truth is that I'm part Dutch, part Native American and yes, part African American. But I choose to represent myself without the hyphen. The hyphen indicates that I hail from there and am able to possess dual citizenship. The hyphen would insinuate that America is not my chosen home. But it is. I am an American. He? Is not OK with that statement.


I asked him what his plans were for his life. How he presumed to take action since he knows exactly what needs to be done. He is going to record an album and bounce between New York and Los Angeles all next year. He's waiting on God to call him to preach and lead a congregation. He's going to expose Creflo Dollar and all other preachers who teach prosperity. What ever woman chooses to spend her life with him will have to be there through death because he knows that "they" are going to kill him when he begins to expose "them".


Finally, about an hour later when I was done listening to him go on incessantly with his nonsense. When I had had enough of being told what the truth is because he read it in a book so it's a fact. When I'd grown silent because I didn't desire to express my views knowing they would be discounted. After I told him that I respected his opinions and was interrupted and told again that they are facts and he has the books to prove it. As I reached the place where nothing he said actually sank in. When he was sure that he had managed to change my mind (and I told him that I was steadfast in my beliefs and our differing opinions would have to coexist [then I had to explain that the statement means we will just agree to disagree]).


That's when he asked me to marry him...

It Really Was Worth It

He didn't seem crazy when I met him. And I really should have known better because I never go to Walmart anyway but I only had $10 and I figured that if anyplace would have a variety of M&Ms it would be Walmart. Because it's Girl Week. There, I said it. It's Girl Week and all I really wanted were Pretzel M&Ms. So, I went to Walmart but I don't know where anything is in there so, really I wandered at a high pace.

I made my way back to the snack aisle only to be interruped by a giant man in a red tank top, black shorts, and Adidas water shoes. Yay, me? He asked me three very important questions: Was I married? Was I spoken for? Could he call me? I answered honestly to all three and I gave him my real number!

He said that he hoped to hear from me but then he called me 12 minutes later. In our brief conversation, he told me that he thought that I was following him throughout the store. You know, because I too was still in the food section. Granted, when I finally discovered where the M&Ms are kept in this ridiculously over-sized department store, we did cross paths again. But I was on the phone calling Mrs. G to rant about M&Ms being "seasonal". Because, really? What the hell! And then because I couldn't find pretzel M&Ms; only the place where they used to live, I was frantically pacing the seasonal aisle and the one next to it, where I almost ran into his cart. I get a mean case of tunnel vision when it comes to candy. After all that, I took my loot (Just two bags of candy!) and went to the self-check out because there's no way I'm standing in the express lane where there are 10 people with carts or the other lane with the lady and her 4 bad kids. Low and behold! There he is checking out his swag. I could've cared and said something witty but all I really did was scan, pay, bag and dip out. I looked around ferociously, praying that none of my colleagues would see me in this place. So, yeah, I can see how a self-important ass hat could consider my actions suspicious.

I told him that I couldn't talk long because I was on my way to family dinner. Which is something that I really engage in on Tuesdays. I explained that as my reason for being in that god-awful store and told him that I would call him back later that evening. And now? I almost wish I hadn't...

Oh! Except I got Reese's miniatures! I mean, I would have walked through hot lava to get those. Believe that.



More tomorrow... Hint: The post is titled Bigotry: A Phone Date

The Back of Uncertainty

This is The New Guy's back. I would love to be snarky about something ridiculous that he said today, but I can't because I'm a nice person and no one wants the world to know that they were told to get up out of their chair to talk to you instead of yelling through partitions.

All in all, he is nowhere near as bad as the guy I had a phone date with last night who is, in fact, a closeted bigot. And even though this isn't a book, I did write it down so it's now a fact .

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The Thing About Being Me

The thing about being me is that if I weren't me I wouldn't be my friend.

I overanalyze, overreact, and procrastinate within an inch of the sanity of all those around me. And then, in the end, I usually walk away from the whole thing like it was just another Burger King wrapper. When the "end of the day" finally comes, whatever issue I was fretting over will have been diagnosed so carefully, so thoroughly that it's just a remnant of what it was or could have been. This.drives.me.crazy.

I want to change this part of me. I want to be that person that is firm in their decisions and willing to take chances... in relationships, of course. Because in life, if it looks like I might have fun or wet my pants, I am in, 110% in, all in, like in poker. I'm just in it. No questions. No hesitation. No trepidation.

But men? Men are my cause for pause. And I wasn't always this way. I used to be in it. All up in it. Then there was one. And he was my Only One. And I knew that we would be together forever. But then we weren't. And it hurt so much that I could only think of him without crying 3 years after he was gone.

Not to say that I haven't dated since then, but I will say that everyone in between was just another wrapper. I waltzed in, took what I wanted and then discarded them when I was done. But this guy is like a trick candle. He won't be blown out. And the truth is that I don't want him to be.

This is where I'd like to be someone who doesn't overanalyze, overreact, or procrastinate. Because while I'm doing all of that I should be doing the girl thing and plotting how I'm going to snag my man. Instead, I'm driving the people in my life absolutely batty over my indecision - and perhaps my resistance to change.

Everyone agrees that we need to talk, but I am a Sag Girl and I know enough about me to know that keeping my mouth shut is the best option - for now at least. So, I'm attacking this in the best way I know how, as research. Of course, I will keep my lovelies updated, but as it stands, I'm working on a list of Pros and Cons. Next will come the list of feelings. There will be a couple of drafts. I'll probably share one or two with you and you may even get a psychotic rant. Only time will tell.

Until then my dears, know this: I will either sacrifice a small dream for the chance at true love or I will dwell on this until the ears of everyone in my life bleed.

Sometimes, I Wonder...

• if I'll ever be the kind of woman that men write songs about


• if I'll find my place in this world


• whether bankruptcy is my best option


• when I'll be properly motivated to lose this weight


• if I can reclaim my inner flirt


• what it will take to snag Mr. Right For Me


• when I will get to start my family


• if Atlanta is a new opportunity or me just running away


• how many books I can really read at once without getting them all jumbled up in my head


• why my Mom is always right


• can I really have a child just like me, 'cause that would be all bad


• if my life will ever be more than mediocre


• why I love shoes SO MUCH and clothes only this much


• where I can get cute dresses that would totally flatter my killer legs


• when my income will match my tastes


• why everyone isn't as fashion concious as my family


• why he still makes me blush


• why his touch can make my heart melt


• if he'll ever get his act right so that I can break this celibacy


• if I'm completely insane for going 7 months without nookie


• what it will take to get nookie off the brain


• why my mom's dog is licking the laptop


• if telling on Ethan was the right thing to do


• how Ethan's going to get back at me for getting him in trouble


• how the hell does Twitter work


• why don't carrots taste like cake? I'd definitely eat more of them if they tasted like cake


• if I'm the only person in America that's had the same cell phone number for 8 years


• when I'm going to get to use my fancy phone that I bought on Black Friday


• why I procrastinate over nothing


• if I can swing an awesome gift for my Mom AND get myself two new pairs of shoes

photo source

Dear Scorpio,

You and me, together, is quite possibly a bad idea. Actually, I polled people and it is, in fact, a bad idea. For who we were 3 years ago. But for who we are today? Well, let's review. I've grown to be incredibly paranoid but also much more comfortable with myself and who I am. You? Well, I notice that you've made some very positive changes.

You've gone from being a boy with no focus and goo-gobs of potential to being a man with his own business and target goals. You also have that rock hard body (which is super sexy to look at but a bitch to snuggle up against) and God knows that's a MEGA plus. And it's been 24 hours since you held me last but I can still feel you on my skin. You've also become extremely punctual which I love because it shows that you are taking other people into consideration. I love these things.

But we're so dangerously different. You are calm where I am manic. You are patient where I jump in. You are measured where I am overflowing. You operate with purpose while I insist on going with the tide. You see reason when all I can see are emotions. I can't figure out why you would be drawn to me, or vice versa for that matter. Well, at least you think my quips are funny.

What I do know is that you are on my mind constantly. And it is due, in part, to the fact that you are becoming a fixture in my life again. And as much as I would like to allow myself to free fall into your piercing gaze, I can't be sure that you would catch me. The feelings I had for you once are still there, lying dormant under layers of hurt and disappointment. I can't let you bring those to the surface unless you can promise to take care of them.

I've always been open with you and you've always known where I stand. I sometimes wish that I could get the same from you. I wish that it wasn't so hard to get inside your head. When I think of how hard it really will be to have a mature, adult relationship with you and I think about how much I'm going to have to change (albeit, for the better), I still want to try with you. I can only hope that is enough because trying's all I've got.

I can't tell you what we should do but we both know what we want to do. Maybe you could try jumping in with both feet. You might actually like it.

For the Love of Men

I learned something yesterday: There's nothing worst than a nail pulled to the quick.



You see, I was a nail biter when I was young. It's a gross habit for sure, but I didn't stop until my first really serious boyfriend told me that he wouldn't kiss me because I always stuck my dirty fingers in my mouth. He did in one second what my mother'd been trying to do for 17 years.



Even though my oral hygiene greatly improved, my need for an anxiety outlet increased ten-fold. So, I began to pick my nails and pull them. (I used to file them until the constant rubbing caused cuts under my nails.) Over the years, I've gotten really good at pulling them to just the right length, but today, I got so riled up over something stupid a middle manager said that I pulled it down to the quick which only added kindling to the fire.



I was angry enough to punch a kitten.



After I settled down, I realized that I didn't have to get angry because I never should have agreed to the stupid things he said anyway. I did the right thing and told my boss and we'll just let him handle it.



But in the mean time, I started thinking about all of the crazy shit I've done for/because of/at the suggestion of men. Don't shake your head at me. You know you've got a list...

1. Practiced kissing on my hand. My 1st step-father told me to do this and it was aaaaaalllllllll good until my little sister caught me and cried because she thought I was in love with myself and that I was going to go to hell. But now I get compliments on my kissing all the time, so, you know, win-lose-win.
2. Took out my tongue ring. This was when I was dating The African. He said it embarrassed him because all his friends thought I gave BJs... which I did... for him... and he never seemed to complain... and didn't stop wanting them after I took it out... asshole.
3. Started wearing makeup. At the insistance of my first high school love. I looked like a raccoon all of 10th grade. A raccoon with hot legs in a cheerleading uniform. Sessaaaay!!!
4. Bit off more than I could chew... figuratively. This was an unfortunate incident involving garlic parmesan wings, an overzealous boyfriend and regurgitated chicken in his lap. Yup.
5. Gave him "my share" of the money for "our first apartment". Again, my first real boyfriend. He was all grown up and in his twenties and scammed me out of $200 whole dollars. I didn't cry and I didn't tell anyone in my family. I loved him too much to want him dead.
6. Got a guinea pig. One of the guys at work had a kid whose guinea pig just happened to be preggo. I got all the necessary piggy crap for free so I said to myself, "Why not? How hard can it be?". Well he makes my house smell and he's a shit kicking little sommabeach! That's how hard it is! *ahem*
7. Bought a car. You should have seen this salesman. He was all cute and flirty and single and not mentioning his 5 kids until AFTER I signed away the next 4 years of my life. Bastard.
8. Got nicks on my vijay. I am an advocate of waxing but he thought it would be sexy to shave me. But his hands weren't steady, I was super nervous and ended up bleeding.
   

There's more I assure you, but I think that before I divulge you and I should go to dinner first. Or you could at least send me a gift certificate to somewhere. Just not Applebee's. I hate that place.

The Battle of the Smells

I am out of candles.

This is an important revelation because I sell candles to make extra money and I am out of candles.

I am out of candles because I am fighting a war, ladies. I'm sure you're all familiar with this battle. It is the Battle of Man Smells.

Everything for men is just so effing strong!

Body wash, body lotion, after shave, cologne. All of it is just so strong.

When I wash, I wash with a skin-softening, yogurt and honey blend that gives my skin a slight shimmer and a light perfume. Then I spritz on a nice perfume and voila! I am delicately fragranced for my day.

Not so with man smells. And my poor little apartment is as overpowering as a Yankee Candle. I've been burning day and night, home and away, fruity and musky fragrances and I'm still losing.

I wouldn't complain if it was something awesome that I had to inhale all day like any of the Axe fragrances but it's not. Instead, I'm getting Vaseline for Men and Suave and some other store brands. Ick!

My nasal passages are in revolt!

So, today while Dad and Cam are visiting D's dad, I'm going to scrub the guest bath because, at this point, I'd rather smell Comet and Clorox than whatever it is that they are washing with.

Handymen

I want one that looks just like this

I have lived with men before. Boyfriends, step-dads, brothers but its honestly been about 5 years. So needless to say, I've forgotten some things like the meaning of the phrase "I'm going to bed".

Last night, I was dog tired. I fell asleep on the couch watching television. When they woke me and demanded that I go to bed I said, "In a minute" because everywhere I looked something needed to be picked up. Cups, snack bowls, laptops, shoes, coats, the whole nine. They assured me that they'd do it. That I could go to sleep knowing that it would be done and to just relax a bit.

When I woke up there were cups, snack bowls, laptops, and shoes all over my living room. But they had turned out the lights. So, that's a win for me, right? If not, I'm going to take it as one because life is too short. And I'd bet money that they were patting each other on the back for a job well done.

Also, I have t.v. in my living room now! Holla!! This is another bonus to having guys in the house. I gave them the DTV kit and in about 10 minutes I was watching all my fav shows on my big ass screen.