Since my last post I have been on many dates with men I have met on the internet. Though this dating I found myself with a good guy I met online. For 3 years we settled down with a house, stable jobs and fur babies. I know there are winners out there... but my track records is about 2 in 150, so you may need to be a serial edater as well to actually find one. Long story short, the three years ended amicably and I am at it again. Here are a few more of the stories, both new and old.
When I moved back to Wisconsin from Cincinnati I still lived my ex, but had started dating new guys. Out of respect I thought it best to go see my new guy on his side of the Illinois/ Wisconsin state line. His name was... fuck.... I'm too tired to keep these fake names straight, his name was just Jeff. It's just plain boring Jeff.
Jeff's mom still did his laundry. Not even just a load dropped off for her. She drove to the condo that Jeff owned (because he was 30 and had a real job), used her key to come in and wash his clothes at his house with his own washer and dryer. While she waited she did cleaning around the house as well. One time I asked Jeff to come up to visit me, since my ex was out of town. The date was uneventful except that his phone kept going off. I could see that it was his mom texting him. He apologized and told me that when he told his mom he was going to see a girl in Wisconsin that she started crying. Please keep in mind that I lived in Southern Wisconsin and he lived in northern Illinois. We lived at most 30-40 minutes away, but she couldn't be that far away from her little boy.
Jeff was obsessed with two things: the color orange and Patrick Kane from the Chicago Blackhawks. I could handle the orange. Even if it meant he had spray painted the rims of his car orange and he would pay 10 times as much for any item that came in an orange version. The Patrick Kane thing got a little weird. When I first say his house he gave me the grand tour. One master bedroom, one guest room (no bed) and a Kane shrine. Nothing in the room but walls covered in signed phones and a giant Blackhawks flag. There was a shelf with over 100 signed pucks and binders full of autographs. The closet was full of only jerseys. I know what you are thinking, "I know a bunch of guys like that, it isn't really that weird." But lets remember in this account THIS IS ALL FROM JUST ONE GUY! This isn't a situation where there is a superfan in love with the Blackhawks. This is one guy with a collection of photos, clothes, and signatures from another one man. If one of these men wasn't good at a sport, the other would go to jail if his collection was found.
Ok, it wasn't actually the Kane collection that ended things. The end came sometime in mid February. We may be still together if 2015 hadn't been a leap year. One night Jeff asked me what leap year was. I explained it to him, but all I could think was how this man was 30 years old. He had already live d through at least 4 leap years. Even if we give him the benefit of the doubt that he was too young to remember one of those, that is still 3 leap years in his life. Did he just think once and a while if you are good, you get a bonus day? Bye Felicia.
Sunday, July 10, 2016
Sunday, July 3, 2011
Wednesday, March 30, 2011
Pick two.
Here I am in a new city and a new man pool. I have found myself in the “queen city” of Cincinnati for a job. It’s a great place with plenty of guy potential. The ratio of available guys is about 3 to 1. (Thank you Procter & Gamble and GE! Gotta love those engineers. ) I dove right in and met a guy the first week off of my regular dating website. There goes my blogging in a new city idea. Damn it. What kind of Eden is this place where a woman flies in not knowing a soul and is taken off the dating market within 5 days? I am never leaving…
Then about 3.5 months later reality hits. Based off of the logic of writer and man-whore Tucker Max, I have devised my own rule of dating for men:
1- Good looking
2- Gives a shit
3- Single
You can only have two of the above.
Which ones it is? 1 and 3, why is it that I always pick. 1 and 3? (To be honest sometimes I only settle for 3, and to be even more honest I have settled for a pulse.) So as you can guess it my last “big find” in Cincinnati was 1 and 3. He did not give a shit about me. Not even enough for a birthday present! I know what your thinking… it was too soon, they only dated a couple months, blah blah blah. Which would have been all fine and good except for the fact that I had bought him something he really wanted, and was quite expensive, for his birthday two weeks earlier.
Ok, let’s give the guy a break. Valentine’s day was 5 days later, maybe he was rolling it into one. Valentine’s day comes around and what did I get? A Barns and Noble gift card… wait for it…. That I had seen in his wallet months before. He REGIFTED a giftcard he didn’t want for Valentine’s Day. What is wrong with you Cincinnati?!?!
This made me pose a question to my friend Rich. Are some guys caring and sweet to every girl they date, making that a part of the guy, or is it just when they really meet the right girl the asshole melts away and they change? –Basically, is it the guy or the girl who makes the ass?
Today I looked at my condition bottle as I squeezed the last remaining cream out of the corners of the lid. I realized that I had had this same bottle since I first moved into temporary housing. I had had this bottle before I had found my apartment. Then it hit me; I had had this bottle of conditioner before I had started dating my last boyfriend. It was just drying up now. It is rude awakening when you realize your hair products last longer than your relationships. It is an even ruder awakening when your realize that the last conversation you had with this guy he said something like, “I have been feeling this way for awhile but I felt bad since you don’t know anyone in Cincinnati.” I had the potential of have fruit on my coffee table last longer than relationships in Cincinnati.
Long story short, I am back at it… Get excited, it is on. The best way to get over someone is to… well you know.
Sunday, August 8, 2010
White, Fat Flava Flav
It was a Friday afternoon and my cousin and I had decided to go to a Brewers game for the night. I called her up on my way home from work and she had to inform me that the game was sold out due to half price tickets. Just my luck, when do Brewers EVER sell out? Now what am I going to do…
Visions of laying in bed watching marathons of Trueblood by myself on my computer on a Friday night haunted me. Don’t get me wrong, that is what I had done all week, but this was Friday. I called a few friends… all busy with their own lives. It was then that I got a text. I was from Paul. “Wud up gurl?” Oh no, was I going to really finally give in and go out with Ghetto Paul? I thought about it for a little while and finally justified it. Worst case scenario I would have a good story for my Blog. I picked up my phone again and dialed.
The next think I heard after a couple rings was this voice message (insert ghetto hood speech here): “SO YOU THINK CHOO WANT TO TALK TO PAULIE? WELL, PAULIE DON’T WANT TO TALK TO CHOO. LEAVE A MESSAGE… HOLLA” I left a quick yet cocky, “This is Summer and I think you’re going to want to talk to me. Call me before I change my mind.”
I got a call back immediately and answer.
“Hello?”
“Hey yeah, Where you at? I got the stuff right here.”
“Excuse me?”
“Who is this?”
“This is summer, I’m in my car. What stuff”
pause
“Oh, damn gurl, I taut you was some other foo. Sorry bouts that”
He then went on to invite me to go to a bowling alley in a bar on the eastside of Milwaukee. By this time I was laughing to myself so hard about this guy that I HAD to go right? He sounded like a real winner.
After driving through some of the worst streets I have ever seen, in the worst parts of Milwaukee, I finally pull up to the place. Paulie was outside waiting for me. I should have kept on going. From this point on in the story my date will be referred to as white, fat flava flav. He had it all; the crooked hat, baggy pants, oversized shirt. I half expected him to smile and reveal a grille gleaming from his teeth. I am pretty sure that he was trying to dress a little more casual so he left his twenty-pound medallion at home.
We did a little bowling, but I was in a hurry to finish the game since I felt like a prize heifer being inspected at the county fair every time I went up to bowl. At least PRETEND you aren’t staring at my ass. There might as well have been a thought bubble like a comic book coming out of his head, with how obvious it was what he was thinking.
I went to the Bathroom and texted my best friend, “Save me from White, Fat Flava Flav!” Why do I do this to myself again? Glutton for Punishment I guess.
I decide that at this point I am going to turn the tables. No more making me the uncomfortable one. We started playing darts. I was starting to get good after practicing on all these dates. After a particularly good throw I jump up and down and start shaking my arms in a fiddler-on-the-roof /Russian type dance. I inform him that this is the winner dance. People were starting to look… I didn’t care.
I then started mocking Flava Flav that he is the worst dart player I have ever seen. The ridiculing got worse. I gave him a closer line to through from, I offered him a tampon since he threw like a girl, and all around make him feel insuperior. The calling out worked and he was suddenly a pro. I hate when guys let me win. It is so odd that after all this, he only seemed to want to impress and win me over more.
As he won the game of darts I yell “Dance for me! Dance the winner dance!” He looks at me like I am insane. I stare back daring him not to obey. To my surprise he starts shaking his arms a little. “More! More! Move those legs”
I starting clapping in time to his dancing and it is getting wilder and more spasmatic. Now, everyone in the bar is looking at this ghetto-ass dude jumping around with his arms over his head doing a half shimmy, half traditional Russian kick dancing. Oh God, I did not expect this guy to get convinced into all this. I love having the power.
A little while later over some beers I look up and make eye contact with a guy playing pool. There had been some sort of electric chemistry that we shared in that few seconds. Something about him had just struck me like I was supposed to know him. He wasn’t the most handsome guy I had ever seen, so I knew it wasn’t just a physical attraction I was feeling. I was something more that I can’t explain.
As Flava Flav and I were walking out I thought how this must be like one of those moments that people write about on “missed connections” on craig’s list or the what-if situations you think back on years after the fact. I couldn’t let that happen. I wouldn’t miss this opportunity. On a date or not, my mind just went on auto-pilot. With no plan I walked passed the bar without stopping for Flava Flav as he turned in the darts. The bar was round with a wall partitioning the middle so I headed toward the exit but took a quick turn around the back of the bar and back to the pool tables. I marched up to the man I had made contact with and put my hand around his arm.
“I just wanted to let you know that I think you are very attractive and you should give me a call the next time you are out.” I pulled out my card and pushed it into his hand.
Without another word I turned around and went for the door. I looked over my shoulder as he stumbled over, “Thank you ma’am” and kept walking.
I found Flav by the door and yelled at him for losing me. He apologized.
I have never done anything that cool in my life, and probably never will again. I got a text later that night. It said that he was Tom from the bar (like I go around giving my cards to everyone). He also said he liked my confidence and style. We set up an official date for the next night.
Visions of laying in bed watching marathons of Trueblood by myself on my computer on a Friday night haunted me. Don’t get me wrong, that is what I had done all week, but this was Friday. I called a few friends… all busy with their own lives. It was then that I got a text. I was from Paul. “Wud up gurl?” Oh no, was I going to really finally give in and go out with Ghetto Paul? I thought about it for a little while and finally justified it. Worst case scenario I would have a good story for my Blog. I picked up my phone again and dialed.
The next think I heard after a couple rings was this voice message (insert ghetto hood speech here): “SO YOU THINK CHOO WANT TO TALK TO PAULIE? WELL, PAULIE DON’T WANT TO TALK TO CHOO. LEAVE A MESSAGE… HOLLA” I left a quick yet cocky, “This is Summer and I think you’re going to want to talk to me. Call me before I change my mind.”
I got a call back immediately and answer.
“Hello?”
“Hey yeah, Where you at? I got the stuff right here.”
“Excuse me?”
“Who is this?”
“This is summer, I’m in my car. What stuff”
pause
“Oh, damn gurl, I taut you was some other foo. Sorry bouts that”
He then went on to invite me to go to a bowling alley in a bar on the eastside of Milwaukee. By this time I was laughing to myself so hard about this guy that I HAD to go right? He sounded like a real winner.
After driving through some of the worst streets I have ever seen, in the worst parts of Milwaukee, I finally pull up to the place. Paulie was outside waiting for me. I should have kept on going. From this point on in the story my date will be referred to as white, fat flava flav. He had it all; the crooked hat, baggy pants, oversized shirt. I half expected him to smile and reveal a grille gleaming from his teeth. I am pretty sure that he was trying to dress a little more casual so he left his twenty-pound medallion at home.
We did a little bowling, but I was in a hurry to finish the game since I felt like a prize heifer being inspected at the county fair every time I went up to bowl. At least PRETEND you aren’t staring at my ass. There might as well have been a thought bubble like a comic book coming out of his head, with how obvious it was what he was thinking.
I went to the Bathroom and texted my best friend, “Save me from White, Fat Flava Flav!” Why do I do this to myself again? Glutton for Punishment I guess.
I decide that at this point I am going to turn the tables. No more making me the uncomfortable one. We started playing darts. I was starting to get good after practicing on all these dates. After a particularly good throw I jump up and down and start shaking my arms in a fiddler-on-the-roof /Russian type dance. I inform him that this is the winner dance. People were starting to look… I didn’t care.
I then started mocking Flava Flav that he is the worst dart player I have ever seen. The ridiculing got worse. I gave him a closer line to through from, I offered him a tampon since he threw like a girl, and all around make him feel insuperior. The calling out worked and he was suddenly a pro. I hate when guys let me win. It is so odd that after all this, he only seemed to want to impress and win me over more.
As he won the game of darts I yell “Dance for me! Dance the winner dance!” He looks at me like I am insane. I stare back daring him not to obey. To my surprise he starts shaking his arms a little. “More! More! Move those legs”
I starting clapping in time to his dancing and it is getting wilder and more spasmatic. Now, everyone in the bar is looking at this ghetto-ass dude jumping around with his arms over his head doing a half shimmy, half traditional Russian kick dancing. Oh God, I did not expect this guy to get convinced into all this. I love having the power.
A little while later over some beers I look up and make eye contact with a guy playing pool. There had been some sort of electric chemistry that we shared in that few seconds. Something about him had just struck me like I was supposed to know him. He wasn’t the most handsome guy I had ever seen, so I knew it wasn’t just a physical attraction I was feeling. I was something more that I can’t explain.
As Flava Flav and I were walking out I thought how this must be like one of those moments that people write about on “missed connections” on craig’s list or the what-if situations you think back on years after the fact. I couldn’t let that happen. I wouldn’t miss this opportunity. On a date or not, my mind just went on auto-pilot. With no plan I walked passed the bar without stopping for Flava Flav as he turned in the darts. The bar was round with a wall partitioning the middle so I headed toward the exit but took a quick turn around the back of the bar and back to the pool tables. I marched up to the man I had made contact with and put my hand around his arm.
“I just wanted to let you know that I think you are very attractive and you should give me a call the next time you are out.” I pulled out my card and pushed it into his hand.
Without another word I turned around and went for the door. I looked over my shoulder as he stumbled over, “Thank you ma’am” and kept walking.
I found Flav by the door and yelled at him for losing me. He apologized.
I have never done anything that cool in my life, and probably never will again. I got a text later that night. It said that he was Tom from the bar (like I go around giving my cards to everyone). He also said he liked my confidence and style. We set up an official date for the next night.
Thursday, July 8, 2010
I think I have dating figured out. I don’t know if I would pass this advice to your kids or anything but this is what I have discovered. You need to date more than one at a time.
Now, I’m not saying you should cheat. Once you have the talk and you’re in an official relationship then none of this applies. Or maybe it does, but I do not condone cheating.
Once you are “exclusive” or “facebook official” or whatever the fuck you want to call it, you got ‘em! Congratulations ladies, you trapped a man into picking your vagina over every other girl he previously was free to mingle with.
I have found the secret to a relationship through the only way a woman can find it… not wanting a relationship at all. As anyone reading this blog can tell, a relationship is far from being on my wish-list. Therefore, I was able to stumble upon the secret to entrapping men.
What is the number one thing women do too fast and too furious when they meet a potential guy? They CARE. Seriously. For every text message you send a guy you like in his mind it is the equivalent of getting 10. So when you send his 5 harmless little messages about how you miss him, it is really 50 cries about how you want to know where he is.
We all do it and we can’t help it. We switch plans and ditch friends when he finally calls you back, making us look like we have no life. We want to get all cuddly and cute right away because it is our nature to reproduce and keep the human population going. Too bad nobody told mother nature that that is the way NOT to find a man to procreate with. Well, maybe procreate with, but not raise a duel-parented baby.
Ladies, here is what you do; you go find yourself a couple guys and try to get to know them at the same time. When you get the urge to text a guy, text the one you texted least. You will be having such difficulties having time to see all of them that you will have to turn others down. Here is why it works: THIS WILL ONLY MAKE THEM WANT YOU MORE.
I would read the situation whether you tell them about each other, but jealousy can say a lot about a guy. Letting them know you have options says, “guys want me, you are going to have to fight and win to be with me.”
I am currently “talking” with three guys. I have cut down the natural womanly instinct of caring by dividing it by 3. It gives them space and lets them be the one to call me, without making me sit at the phone wondering what is wrong with me. These guys think I’m the coolest chick in the world for “understanding that they need space.”
Rather than freaking out about my guy deciding he would rather watch the baseball game I bought us tickets to at home, I texted someone else. Within 5 minutes I had a new date and let the original guy slide.
Over all this time I will eventually have my pick of the three and become exclusive if I wish. BUT if a relationship is not what you want eventually one is going to ask you to be with just them in which case you will lose your fun arrangement and you will have to ditch the other guys or him. Decision is yours. I just wanted to let you in on the secret of how to get there.
Now, I’m not saying you should cheat. Once you have the talk and you’re in an official relationship then none of this applies. Or maybe it does, but I do not condone cheating.
Once you are “exclusive” or “facebook official” or whatever the fuck you want to call it, you got ‘em! Congratulations ladies, you trapped a man into picking your vagina over every other girl he previously was free to mingle with.
I have found the secret to a relationship through the only way a woman can find it… not wanting a relationship at all. As anyone reading this blog can tell, a relationship is far from being on my wish-list. Therefore, I was able to stumble upon the secret to entrapping men.
What is the number one thing women do too fast and too furious when they meet a potential guy? They CARE. Seriously. For every text message you send a guy you like in his mind it is the equivalent of getting 10. So when you send his 5 harmless little messages about how you miss him, it is really 50 cries about how you want to know where he is.
We all do it and we can’t help it. We switch plans and ditch friends when he finally calls you back, making us look like we have no life. We want to get all cuddly and cute right away because it is our nature to reproduce and keep the human population going. Too bad nobody told mother nature that that is the way NOT to find a man to procreate with. Well, maybe procreate with, but not raise a duel-parented baby.
Ladies, here is what you do; you go find yourself a couple guys and try to get to know them at the same time. When you get the urge to text a guy, text the one you texted least. You will be having such difficulties having time to see all of them that you will have to turn others down. Here is why it works: THIS WILL ONLY MAKE THEM WANT YOU MORE.
I would read the situation whether you tell them about each other, but jealousy can say a lot about a guy. Letting them know you have options says, “guys want me, you are going to have to fight and win to be with me.”
I am currently “talking” with three guys. I have cut down the natural womanly instinct of caring by dividing it by 3. It gives them space and lets them be the one to call me, without making me sit at the phone wondering what is wrong with me. These guys think I’m the coolest chick in the world for “understanding that they need space.”
Rather than freaking out about my guy deciding he would rather watch the baseball game I bought us tickets to at home, I texted someone else. Within 5 minutes I had a new date and let the original guy slide.
Over all this time I will eventually have my pick of the three and become exclusive if I wish. BUT if a relationship is not what you want eventually one is going to ask you to be with just them in which case you will lose your fun arrangement and you will have to ditch the other guys or him. Decision is yours. I just wanted to let you in on the secret of how to get there.
Thursday, June 24, 2010
If you don't have anything nice to say... watch where you sit
Although it is not a norm there is one guy from my blog who I hand out with on a regular basis. That is the fun part about my project… there are no rules. I can say this, he is the best looking and not AS bad as he seemed to be on the first date.
With that said, we are summer friends with benefits. The benefits stop when one of us finds a potential love interest, at which point we hang out as friends. The benefits resume immediately after we move on. It was a pretty good deal all around.
One night my FWB invited me to his baseball game and then some fun after. I love watching sexy guys get sweaty, so I took him up on it. I invited my Best Friend, Liz, to come along with so I would have someone to talk to during the game.
Liz and I had a great time catching up from her semester abroad. We new it would be our last summer together so we held nothing back. I told her what I planned on doing to my FWB after this first work out. She asked how it worked with him living with his parents. I told her how it sucked and we had to sneak around in his parent’s basement.
We discussed how my FWB was less than endowed, but it wasn’t like I was going to marry the guy and be stuck with it, right?
We talked about how hot the other players were. Number 25 in particular was a stud. Why does he keep looking over here? Maybe I could trade up? He wants me hardcore. Wow, look at those fine asses out there. Oooooooooooo Weeeeeeeeeeeeee
After about an hour of laughing, gossiping and watching the baseball game, my FWB came over to give us some bug spray. After thanking him for the spray he replies, “No problem, give it to my Mom when you’re done,” pointing to the woman sitting next to Liz.
I turned bright red thinking about all the things she must have heard. The worst thing was that I had met her before and didn’t recognize her. Wait, no, maybe the worst was that 25 was his newly-wed brother, who had most likely been looking over at his mom the whole game.
Awkward
With that said, we are summer friends with benefits. The benefits stop when one of us finds a potential love interest, at which point we hang out as friends. The benefits resume immediately after we move on. It was a pretty good deal all around.
One night my FWB invited me to his baseball game and then some fun after. I love watching sexy guys get sweaty, so I took him up on it. I invited my Best Friend, Liz, to come along with so I would have someone to talk to during the game.
Liz and I had a great time catching up from her semester abroad. We new it would be our last summer together so we held nothing back. I told her what I planned on doing to my FWB after this first work out. She asked how it worked with him living with his parents. I told her how it sucked and we had to sneak around in his parent’s basement.
We discussed how my FWB was less than endowed, but it wasn’t like I was going to marry the guy and be stuck with it, right?
We talked about how hot the other players were. Number 25 in particular was a stud. Why does he keep looking over here? Maybe I could trade up? He wants me hardcore. Wow, look at those fine asses out there. Oooooooooooo Weeeeeeeeeeeeee
After about an hour of laughing, gossiping and watching the baseball game, my FWB came over to give us some bug spray. After thanking him for the spray he replies, “No problem, give it to my Mom when you’re done,” pointing to the woman sitting next to Liz.
I turned bright red thinking about all the things she must have heard. The worst thing was that I had met her before and didn’t recognize her. Wait, no, maybe the worst was that 25 was his newly-wed brother, who had most likely been looking over at his mom the whole game.
Awkward
Monday, June 21, 2010
X
X is too smart for a name. If I wrote his conversation you probably wouldn’t understand it, I don’t even understand it. X has his own language because only he understands it, and he is the only one smart enough to hold a conversation with himself anyway, so why bother with any other language? X is the youngest one at his job, which only accepts the smartest people alive. Did I mention X is smart? …Because he sure did. X would have been Valedictorian except the teachers didn’t want him to give a speech calling them out for not being as smart as him. X is perfect at every sport that involves math or coordination. Want to play mini-golf with him? Yeah, by hole 3 I didn’t want to either. X will someday be president, as soon as they have an IQ requirement, in which case he will win based on him getting one vote… his own. X was so matter of fact that it wasn’t even cocky… it was just stating how it was. Check Please.
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