Put Your Penis Goggles Away

I was going to tell you how I’m no good with compliments and  about the older semi-creepy bus driver who told me I had a great smile when I got on the bus today and then stopped me when I got off the bus to ask me if I knew how pretty I was and that if he could only use one word to describe me it would be delicious, and it made me super uncomfortable, but then I got a text from one of these online dating guys and it really ran right through me and made me want to go on another dating rant. I’m not a male basher. At all. I love men. I love them a lot and I’ve loved a lot of them. And although I don’t expect a lot from them, I do have certain expectations like, I don’t know, respect! I gave this man my number and at this point I’m using the term “man” loosely. He’s been texting me. He’s one of the ones who just popped up at my job because I made the mistake of telling him where I worked. The first time I wasn’t there. The second time I was. And he tells me that he finds me exotic, but maybe he should have said erotic. His words not mine. At this point I already know he’s looking at me through his penis goggles. But he keeps texting hello’s and hi’s and I wasn’t going to be a dick. During our first few conversations he makes a joke about being a virgin and it’s been a running joke since then. He was trying to get me to look at his band’s Facebook page and I couldn’t pull it up so he asks me for my page and I’m thinking it is so he can friend me and send me the page, but he didn’t he just looked at my stuff I guess.

So he starts texting me again today and this is part of the actual conversation:

Him: I just left your page

Me: I’m a very active facebook-er

Him: I see

Me: I’m kind of famous  (insert the laughing with tears emoji here a few times)

Him: I still don’t know why you can’t pull up (random band).

Me: Me neither

Him: I see we have a mutual friend

Me: Who?

Him: (insert random name here).

Me: Yes I do. He took my virginity.

Me: (Insert laughing tears emoji a few more times) I’m totally kidding. I don’t know him biblically.

Him: You got me on that one… Because I wouldn’t have any plans on making your toes curl if u actually did whew

Me: Haha. Oh really?

Me: Although you shouldn’t have any plans on making my toes curl since we haven’t even been out yet.

Him: I had plans for you to take my tongues virginity

Him: You’re right mzz angie im just confident that we will like each other

Me: (and this is where I lose my shit) Nope. That’s the problem with dating in current times. Men think it’s ok to approach the subject of sex before even getting to know a girl’s favorite food or color. Comments like that mean one thing to me and that is that you want one thing and I don’t need that one thing. I want other things. Many other things. I can walk out of my house for that one thing and find it in ten seconds. That’s not the thing that women want.

And then he proceeded to text me an explanation of how he’s not after sex, he’s after a soulmate and he just thinks we have a lot in common. I don’t even know how he would know that because he knows nothing about me because he’s a 10 O’clock man (See Don’t take my Patchouli Away). Is my vagina your soulmate? Did your penis goggles tell you that? Do they have x-ray vision? What. The. Fuck? And then my block list got a little bit longer…

 

 

Don’t Take Away My Patchouli

I saw bachelor #3 again yesterday. We saw each other early and went for a small hike at the nature center. It was nice and relaxing for me. It was more like an exercise in torture for him. We are night and day. We always have something to talk about and that’s nice. But then there are a lot of differences that make me question why I even try to get into a relationship at all. Ever. I’ve always joked that I would be alone forever but like they say, there’s always a little bit of truth in a joke. My favorite color is purple. He doesn’t like purple. I love my patchouli lotion. He doesn’t like it so I don’t wear it anymore when I know I’m going to see him. My dogs are my family and are welcome in my house and on my bed and on my couch and on my lap, and he’s only ok with a small dog in the house and a big dog in the backyard. He goes to church every Sunday. I don’t go to church at all. He likes to watch Judge Brown and Hot Bench. I’d rather not watch anything especially anything with commercials. But then I wonder if those are fundamental differences or just “opposites attract” differences, because we do have interesting conversations. And he’s sweet and loving and affectionate. He’s a 5 O’clock guy. And I’m used to dating 10 O’clock guys. Not even dating really because it’s not dating when you are only seeing men for sex and mostly at their convenience. It fills a need, but it’s not fulfilling. What I have been looking for is fulfillment, but I’m starting to think that nobody can make me as happy as I make myself. I want someone who makes me laugh like I laugh when I’m on a three way call with my best friends. I want someone who knows that 3 days before my period I am homicidal and either leaves me alone or brings over chocolate and a shovel. There’s a lot of validity in the argument that you should marry your best friend, but unfortunately all my best friends are already  married. And women. So I’ve settled for 10 O’clock men most of my life,  because I liked the freedom of it and because 10 O’ clock men don’t try to change you because they don’t know anything about you and they don’t care.  Bachelor #3 has all the opposite properties of a 10 O’clock man,  but my gut is still not convinced and I wonder if it’s him or if it’s me. Plus dating is time consuming. You have to make all that time for a person or for people only to find out most of the time that it was not time well spent at all. And you put off doing things you would normally be doing to try to find the “one” and  I think that’s when you start losing yourself in a relationship before it ever really starts. And I’m not sure I’m ready to lose myself. I just really found myself and I like my patchouli lotion. It makes me happy. And without it I’m sad. And if I can’t wear it when I’m with him doesn’t that actually mean I’ll be sad when we’re together? Fuck dating. Fuck it so hard…

I’m Not a Slut, I Just Waxed My Face

In an effort to take my own advice and do something for me, I decided to wake up bright and early to wax my face. Men will never understand the pain of trying to be beautiful. Normally I don’t care. You already know my armpits most of the time look like I’m trying to smuggle a small animal on a plane. And don’t even get me started on my legs. Am I in Florida or am I having sex today? No? Then I’m not shaving! But my face is different and I’m usually on top of it but I’ve been slacking lately. But not today. Today I went all out not at a salon, but in my bathroom, with those very convenient heat and stick wax strips. Brows. Waxed. Upper Lip. Waxed. Chin. Waxed. Why do women even get chin hair? I don’t even know who in my family I need to blame for this. I could blame my mother, but I blame her for everything else. I think I’ll give her break this time. Maybe my grandmother? She’s dead and can’t defend herself so I’m on the fence there, too.

Seriously, though, the problem with waxing your lip and chin is that it turns your face completely red. The eyebrows it doesn’t really matter because it just makes you look like you are really excited. People know there is something different but they can’t quite figure out that your unibrow has reached mitosis and split into two perfect normal eye brows.  But your lip and chin? Waxing those always makes my mouth area so red it looks like I just gave an entire football team head.  And I always know it’s going to look like that, but still I wax and  then I go for hours not wanting to leave the house, but it’s all in the name of beauty. I don’t want to be one of those hairy chinned women. Especially not the ones who get so frustrated they wind up shaving their chins one day and then it turns into a slippery slope of shaving cream, razor blades, and 5 O’clock shadows. I guess at the end of the day, I’d rather look like I gave a blow job than look like I need one.

The “Me Time” Challenge

Friendship is a funny thing. You can go for years and never make a new friend because you are perfectly content with the ones you’ve had your whole adult life and then in the blink of an eye, you are suddenly surrounded by a whole group of people you would never expect. I recently had an experience like this. My friends, Crystal and Liz, and  I have been friends for 20+ years. I have other friends that I’ve had for a while and I’ve made a few new ones here and there, but the older you get the harder it is especially if you are a woman. And women know this. The three of us get together on a group text regularly. A couple of weeks ago, Liz went out of town aka out of contact with our group text for a few days and Crystal, apparently feeling bad and assuming that I was all alone in the world (I totally was, Crystal), invited me in to another group text that she has with some ladies in North Carolina, where she lives.  I was a little hesitant at first because these people send their kids to a private school and they all have husbands and I’m all over here single as fuck cussing like a sailor. I actually don’t even know what possessed her to trust me in their group.  It’s not like I know how to bite my tongue or show tact 90% of the time. I mean, I can when it counts, but like I said, I was a little reserved when I got voted in. Yes, I actually had to be voted in. You can’t just let any asshole off the street into your texting circle of trust. That stuff is in writing. It can be used against you in a court of law. I think. So I am introduced via text message and basically we all become fast friends and have a really grand time texting. Crystal makes slut jokes about me, I make prude jokes about her. Her friends wonder if I am a compulsive liar or does this stuff really happen to me? Good times. So as the days go on, I am seeing a running theme in all these text messages. At some points it was kind of like eavesdropping because I didn’t know what the hell they were talking about but I didn’t want to interrupt and be like, “Could you start from the beginning?” because that’s just rude so I just listened to (read) the conversations.

Back to the running theme….These women are amazing and don’t take near enough time for themselves. And then I think of all the other women that I know who have kids and husbands. And then I think of how I was when I had young kids. My daughter says I don’t count because I made time to go out partying and slutting it up (my words, not hers, I think), but I was never married. Well, that one time, for a year, when I was 18, but that doesn’t really count. But even in the very few brief times I was in a relationship, I lost myself every time. I think you have to be really confident and in touch with yourself before you get into a relationship to continue to be who you were when you got in, otherwise, I feel like everyone is in danger of losing themselves. Women, more so than men. So I offered Crystal some advice. Not that anyone in their right mind should take my advice, but sometimes I have these moments of clarity and this was one of them. I have a lot of “ME” time. I meditate in the morning before I get out of bed. I read while I’m waiting for the bus. I read while I’m on the bus. I take myself out to eat now that I’ve gotten over the distaste for eating alone. I go on long walks alone. I’m alone a lot, but my kid is 14 now and doesn’t really need me and I go through rollercoaster dating phases where I date, date, date and then I come to the harsh realization that I’m nit picky and impossible to please and possibly impossible to love because of the previous and then I have a long stretch of being alone. So I’m very familiar with “ME” time and I know myself pretty well. So I suggested to Crystal that she needed some “ME” time because she takes care of her kids, her husband, she volunteers for EVERYTHING… and it seems like all her friends are the same way. I gave her a “ME” time challenge and I wanted to get it in writing so she can share it with her tribe and also because I think it’s a brilliant idea and I think everyone in the world should participate so here it is :

The Me Time Challenge

When: The Month of April

Who: You, Your Mom, Your Sister, Your Friends, The World

Where: Wherever You Are

What: Remember what you used to love before you started loving everyone else more than yourself? Start doing that!!

One hour per day just for you: a walk, a bike ride, shopping, window shopping, a cooking class, a cake decorating class, an art class, a dance class, dancing in the living room, reading a book, taking a bubble bath, writing, working out, doing yoga, getting a pedicure, church, whatever you can do in an hour each day, do it. And on the weekend take three hours (all at once) to be with your friends or by yourself, whichever you choose.

Things that are not allowed during your one or three hour time: napping (you have to be awake for your “me time”), talking about your kids and husbands/wives/lovers/partner, doing or buying anything for them. The hour is for you, not anyone else.

I feel like when you take time to do things that make you happy, you become a better mother, wife, lover, partner, friend,  person. You remember all the things you love, all the things you don’t love, you find a little part of you everyday that will pick you up and get you feeling like yourself again. I know this is not my usual foul mouthed, out of left field kind of post, but you women are amazing and the amount of work you put into making everyone’s lives run smooth should not be overlooked. Do not overlook yourself. Love yourself.

 

Formerly Known as Bachelor #3

I went out with Bachelor #3 tonight. Actually, it’s almost 2am and I am just getting in. I’m not even doing the walk of shame. Bachelor #3 knocked it out of the park. He took me to my favorite book store to wander around and I found a book I had been looking for. Then we went for pizza and he didn’t even know it’s practically my all time favorite food, but I guess he had a 50/50 chance on that one. And we talked and  talked  some more. It’s actually been a really long time since I’ve been around someone and not wanted to either cut the date short or cancel it all together. It’s not  often you run into a genuinely nice guy who wants to run his fingers through your hair with no intention of them making their way to your pants. And there is never any awkward silence either. We talked about everything from blowjobs to back rubs to ecstasy to Jesus. He’s just smart. And we have differences of opinion on lots of things. I like Mexican. He hates it. He likes Chinese. I hate it. He leaves the water running. I shut it off to brush my teeth. But those are surface differences. Anyway, bachelor #3 has turned into bachelor #1 because he’s totally knocked 1 and 2 out of the running. Well, they knocked themselves out by not being on his level but that’s what happens when you don’t step up your game. Also, since bachelor #1 formerly #3 knows that anything he says can and will probably be used in a blog we have agreed to a journalist off the record clause in our relationship or whatever it is turning into. He says “off the record” and I can’t use it. If he doesn’t, everything is fair play. And he’s totally ok with me spilling the beans. He said, “you can’t get mad at the truth.” And I agree. I wonder if he would get mad if I told you he poops with the water running and then when you meet him, you all will be like, “hey, you’re that dickhead who wastes all the water.”  I guess we will find out now won’t we? (insert maniacal laugh here)

Also, we were talking about The Unboyfriend and he asked me what it was about and I told him it was basically a compilation of all my failed relationships and then he said the most profound thing. I’m paraphrasing here:  “All failed relationships aren’t failures. It’s like a candle. It’s not meant to last forever. But you don’t light  a birthday candle if you want to brighten a whole house.” Then he basically dropped the mic and walked out of the room. Or he would have if we were in a room and not driving in the car.  So basically it doesn’t matter if this relationship works out or not. Nothing is a failure. Everything is an opportunity for growth. He may have already earned himself a whole chapter. Maybe the last one. Who knows?

 

 

Go to Hell, John!

So as you may or may not know, I gave Kymani Marley my phone number when I met him on a cruise in December. I was positive I was going to meet him one day and 4 years later, I did. He was actually the only reason I went on the cruise, but I blew my chance because of sweat and sunblock. I tell you all about it in my next work of not-so-much fiction called The Unboyfriend.  Maybe I’ll post that chapter here. It’s kind of long. Anyway,  I was positive he was going to call me and three months later, he did.
I was sitting around at home minding my own business and my phone rang. I pretty much save everybody’s number so I know when and when not to answer. I know!! It is super smart. So this number comes up, 813-882-6582. After gasping, and feeling my heart flutter because I know it’s him, I answer in my sweetest I-want-to-have-your- babies voice,  “Hello.”

And it’s John WhoGivesADamn from Florida trying to sell me a timeshare. And the let down was severe. I almost threw my phone. I was yelling and cussing at him and he was a prerecorded message. And then he called again a week later, but I knew who it was and I answered anyway, you know,  just in case.  Then he called today and I had forgotten the number and was a tad excited again and held my breath again and felt my heart flutter again until I answered. “Damn you, John!!” I wanted to say more but I was at work. Yes, I stopped working to illegally answer a call because you don’t send Kymani Marley to voicemail. And I have to answer every unknown Florida number because I don’t know what number Kymani will be calling from either. I just know he will and  I really hope it’s not a 813 number and I hope I don’t answer the phone “Seriously, John! What the Fuck?!”  And Kymani will hang up in fear and I will ruin my second chance too!!

He Saws Logs for Chipmunks *

I was talking to bachelor #3 last night. He was supposed to be going to work at 9pm but at the last minute his boss decided to give everyone the night off so I asked him if he wanted to hang out which goes against most of my rules but I recently decided to fuck the rules because the rules keep fucking me. So no rules this time around or I’ll make new ones as they are necessary. He takes me up on my offer to hang out at the last minute and totally gets cool points for that because even if he had something planned (and I think he did), he came and got me anyway. So we end up over his friends’ house and he invites me in to meet them. And it’s a house full of women. And liquor. So we have some drinks. Have some laughs. The girls were just pre-partying before going out so we weren’t there very long before they left and he and I were sitting in his car talking. And talking. And talking. And then I had to pee. So instead of saying, “hey, will you take me somewhere to pee?” I say, “do you have a napkin in here?” Because I was just going to hop out of the car and pee. Did I mention there was alcohol? Since he’s so smart, he says, “I live around the corner, you can pee there.” And I’m thinking to myself “ok, I’ll go to your house but for the record, I’m wearing this morning’s vagina because I didn’t shower before going out and ineffective crystal deodorant on my super hairy pits so good luck trying to undress me on our second meeting.”
We get to his house, I use the bathroom and his house is so comfortable. It’s not bachelor OCD clean. It’s a little disheveled and lived in. It was nice. At that point it’s clear we aren’t going anywhere else, but it’s ok because it seems that we are not very productive together. We get to talking and we slowly start standing still. That’s also nice. So there’s a little make out session that starts and I’m just so happy to actually be kissed (because the last guy I was sleeping with was not a kisser). So we are kissing in between scenes of The Revenant. Super romantic. I won’t spoil the movie for you but that was sarcasm. And that was as far as it went. He didn’t try to seduce me. I think he was just showing me that he was a damn good kisser. So there’s that. I started falling asleep on his couch. This is the part where I should have asked him to take me home but I was tipsy and tired and I just wanted sleep. So instead I say, “Do you have a bed?” He says “yes” and we go into the bedroom and his bed is piled up with laundry and he’s just sweeping it off and I like him even more because that’s some shit I would do. Actually, I would have just moved it all to one side and told him to pretend it’s a twin size bed.
And then we went to sleep. Well, he did. I didn’t. Because he snores. Not like sleep apnea snoring just like exhausted person snoring. He was sawing logs for chipmunks. Not super sized logs. And it didn’t even matter that snoring is one of my deal breakers (that’s a whole other blog), because he’s sweet and smart and can kiss and carry a conversation. We are supposed to go on our second official date tomorrow so I’ll keep you posted. Yay Bachelor #3!