“May the Odds be Ever in your Favor”

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The first full week of January has passed and I’m sure everyone is still excited about their “New Year, New Me” slogan. Why don’t all of you come back and see me in March. Call me cynical if you must, but I can’t tell you how many New Year’s Resolutions were total busts for me. Oh wait, yeah I can…ALL OF THEM!

Resolutions fill my social media news feed and it’s almost unbearable. Out of pure curiosity, I went about asking random people what their resolutions were for 2015 knowing full and well I’d receive the same answers over and over again. I got a few humorous off the wall ones like “Stop calling my boss a bitch under my breath so much,” “Continue to not get my girlfriend pregnant,” and “Not be single for next Christmas, even if that means renting a date.”

I laughed at the first one thanking God that I have pretty outstanding bosses, the second one I applauded, and the third one I sympathized with. I can’t tell you how many Christmases I spent fantasizing some sort of Debra Messing and Durmot Mulroney Hollywood love story (See “The Wedding Date.”)

I could go through the standard “It’ll happen when it happens” or “You can’t make somebody fall in love with you” speech, but nobody wants to hear that. I know I never did. So instead I thought I’d share some of the biggest dating faux pas I encountered during my long stint of dating.

For all you hopeless romantics out there let me walk you through a few steps that could be helpful in landing yourself a lover for the 2015 Holiday Season and someone to ring in 2016 with.

Speak the Truth

Don’t exaggerate too much. We all know a story isn’t any good without a little embellishment on the details, but don’t tell me about your close near death encounter with a hammer head shark when in reality you were just at the “pet a shark” section at the zoo.

Texting Etiquette

Men: It’s not hard to pick up your phone sometime after the first date and send us a text. If you’re not interested there are no hard feelings, but if we send you a text you should be doing one of two things:

  1. Text us back and let us know so we don’t waste our time; or
  2. DON’T TEXT US AT ALL. IGNORE US. If you’re not man enough to tell us that you’re not interested then just don’t text back. Don’t play mind games. If you’re going to fan the flames then you absolutely deserve that crazy that is eventually coming your way.

Ladies: One text is plenty. If he doesn’t respond within 12 hours he’s not interested. Delete his number and MOVE ON. There is nothing more unattractive then a girl that becomes a stage 5 clinger after one date. I know you liked him, but he clearly didn’t like you. Sorry. Also, when I say delete his number, seriously, delete it. DO NOT I repeat DO NOT DRUNK TEXT HIM. EVER.

TMI

I probably can’t say this enough, but don’t give away too much information on the first date. Nobody wants to know about the weird lump you had when you were 16 and that’s why you had to have a colonoscopy at such a young age.

Alcohol

Let’s be real for a minute, the best two things about going on a date is the food and the alcohol. For girls especially because normally it’s going to be free. There is an extremely fine line between just the right amount and too much. Just one drink can send you over the top. Nothing says “I’m a real catch” like vomiting on your date’s suede shoes while crying and repeatedly slurring “I’m so sorry.”

Conversation Topics and Manners

Let’s touch on all the conversation topics you SHOULDN’T talk about:

  • Your ex and along the same lines don’t ask about their ex
  • How drunk you and your friends get and the stupid stuff you do
  • All the people you’ve slept with
  • Oh and did I mention not to talk about your ex?

Now, let’s move on to conversation manners:

  • Look your date in the eye when you’re talking to them. I don’t care how uninteresting they are or if they have a whole salad stuck in their teeth, don’t be rude.
  • When they ask you a question answer and reciprocate the question back to them. Don’t spend the whole night letting the other person field all the questions. As much as you think it might be, it’s really not all about you.

The Check

Call me old school, but the man should pay unless other arrangements were made prior to the meal. If, as a man, YOU ask the girl out and you do not pay, you’re pathetic.

“You know she and I go out for dinner, she doesn’t even reach for the check. That’s all I’m asking for is a reach. Is that too much to ask for?” So ladies if you feel like it give it a reach, but this can and will backfire.

Good luck to finding your soulmate in 2015 you’ve got 11 months to make it happen.

“May the odds be ever in your favor.”

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A Little Cash For Your Cab Ride

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Uber

A few months ago I went on a very casual first date. It wasn’t anything special and I certainly had no intentions of it going any further than a couple of dates, at best. We met online, but it wasn’t through a dating website it was through a Facebook friend we both had in common. That alone was enough to make me 99.9% sure that this would never work. I’ve never had too much luck with meeting guys on Facebook. It’s cliché and let’s be honest, kind of creepy.

From the moment he first asked me out I immediately knew he had the first date thing on lock. He wanted to meet for drinks and a quick appetizer and that was it, meaning one of two things: he’s either only interested in sex OR he’s done this a time or two and he’s been about as lucky as I have been. Our date literally lasted about an hour and I can’t say I was upset about it. It was long enough to get to know one another on the most basic level, but short enough to make us both want a second date.

As we were sharing an appetizer of calamari and drinking our beer (thank the Lord he ordered a beer) I found myself sharing a few of my disastrous relationship stories with him. At this point-in-time he had no idea that bad dates were kind of my second job. We were flip flopping on bad date stories and I couldn’t help but be in complete awe that he had had just as many if not more stories than I had.

Time passed and we became a little more serious and to everyone’s awe we’re actually still together. Now don’t go thinking I don’t have any more bad dating stories to share, because trust me, that is NOT the case. I have an arsenal of them, but the good news is so does my boyfriend (yeah, I just said that) and now I get to share his stories to the world.

One of my favorite dating stories of his is when he leaves a girl at a concert. Douche bag move or not? You be the judge of that. Enjoy!

I struck up a conversation with a girl from Match.com one Sunday afternoon in July of 2013. We had a normal conversation via email then exchanged numbers once we became comfortable. Later that night I received a text asking if I would go for a walk and chat. I obliged and brought my lovable yet sorta fat dog with me. I was happy to see she was a dog lover and didn’t mind. Our conversation went great and so we decided to meet again for lunch the following Monday.  2 dates in 2 days! Things seemed to be going great.

Through the few conversations that she and I had I could tell that she was a teeny tiny bit on the spoiled side. You know with the “gimme gimme gimme” and “I want I want I want.” Other than that though, she seemed like a nice enough person, we all have our flaws, right?

A few days after our second date she had asked to hangout again and I agreed. That evening she had told me that her mom had bought her VIP tickets to Luke Bryan and she had asked me to go with her. Through conversation I had found out that she had had these tickets for quite some time and the concert was only three days away and she had nobody to go with. That probably should have been a HUGE red flag, but nonetheless I agreed to go.

Sunday had rolled around, the big day! Outdoor concerts have always been one of my favorite summer activities, so I was pretty excited. Not to mention we had VIP tickets which meant a private concert before the actual concert, who wouldn’t be excited?

2 hours before she was supposed to come to my house we started texting. Our conversation was about nothing really exciting, but then she said something out of the blue. She said “I just want you to know that I don’t really think I would be a good parent or that I even like kids very much.” She knew I had a son so this was a little shocking to hear. My response to her statement was along the lines of “well I appreciate you telling me now.” Not that I was in the marrying mode after just one week of dating but I certainly wasn’t going to continue pursuing someone who doesn’t like kids. She apologized and said the way it came out was not exactly what she meant, but I’m not exactly sure how else I’m supposed to interpret what she said. I was willing to look past it though just so we could have a good time at the concert.

Before I say too much more let me first say this one thing, I am a moderate country fan and Luke Bryan is just ok for me. I’m sure all the ladies disagree, but don’t get your panties in a bunch over that statement.

As soon as we arrived we did not have much time before the private concert started. We made our way to the tent and waited patiently for Luke to come out on stage. When he finally made his way out to the stage there were about 200 people huddled around the stage and the women were going crazy, as expected.

Since we were in a hurry when we first arrived I didn’t have time to buy a drink. After all, it is an outdoor concert AND there is no way I’m going to enjoy this show as much as the ladies seem to be enjoying it without a few adult beverages.

I told my date I was going to get a drink and I politely excused myself. She didn’t seem to mind as she appeared to be way more interested in screaming “LUKE.” So I made my way to the back of the tent where the bar was located, about 75 feet away from the stage.

As I was purchasing my drink a random guy struck up a conversation with me. I can’t even remember what we talked about, but about 10 minutes had elapsed. All of the sudden out of nowhere my date came walking toward me with her hands raised in the air and very angrily said “What the f*ck, dude!”

My immediate reaction was to apologize, even though I didn’t really know what I was apologizing for. I had no idea that leaving her to watch Luke Bryan for 10 minutes would be such a big deal but I was certainly sorry that she was upset. Keep in mind that the bar was in eyesight of the stage and if she turned around she could easily see me.

After the private concert we made our way to our seats in the main venue. Florida Georgia Line was up first and during their entire set she was still upset with me. I continued my apologies pleading with her to just have a good time. My pleas were getting nowhere. She continued to pout and she wouldn’t even speak to me.

After the first band ended I asked her to take a walk. I wanted to try one last time to get her to simply enjoy the concert. All my efforts made no impact as she continued to stand there with her arms crossed acting like a spoiled little brat.

I had put up with it long enough and I was at my wits end. I reached into my pocket, grabbed $40 out, and said “thanks for bringing me to the concert here’s some cab money I am going home.” I walked my happy ass out of the concert and never looked back.

Thanksgiving – A Time to Bare All

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Imagine spending a nice romantic winter evening with the one you’ve decided to make yours.

The two of you are sitting in front of the fireplace drinking wine, or better yet vodka, and spending hours upon hours talking and getting to know one another on a more intimate level. As the night begins to creep into the wee hours of the morning and your head becomes clouded with the vodka, your partner is nothing short of a gentleman when he offers you pajama’s and his bed for the night while he sleeps on the couch. What a romantic intimate evening filled with laughter and pure innocent romance.

It’s every girls dream to be treated like a princess, to be catered to, to be loved, and most of all to be respected.

Unfortunately not every date goes like this. You don’t always end up with the perfect Norman Rockwell picturesque winter scene.

So, when I received this date in the mail I nearly pissed myself and I knew I had to share it.

Thank you to the anonymous writer who may or may not be from Virginia, South Carolina, or Rome.

The date was November. I can’t remember the exact date, but I know it was before Thanksgiving and after Halloween. The year? I don’t really remember that either. It was November though and I do know it was the weekend before Thanksgiving.

So, the date was late November and I had been dating this guy, Keith. He was tall, handsome, and he had these green eyes that were almost cat like. We had only been on a handful of dates and we had yet to wrinkle the sheets, if you know what I mean. We were both fresh out of college and just starting to find our paths in life, so settling down was the last thing on our minds.

The last few dates we had been on I had been getting the feeling that he wasn’t all that into me anymore. Or maybe it was me that wasn’t all that into him anymore, either way I didn’t think things would progress much further.

So I was a little surprised when Keith asked me to spend Thanksgiving with his family. He told me the details of their family Thanksgivings and I thought it sounded absolutely wonderful. He told me they spent the weekend before Thanksgiving at his grandparent’s cabin “eating, drinking, and being merry.” It truly sounded wonderful and a weekend away in a cabin sounded splendid, so I happily agreed.

The weekend was finally here and my nerves were shot to hell. Here I was about to meet this man’s whole family and I wasn’t even 100% sure I liked him. I was somewhere between 30% and 50% sure about him, those of us familiar with the dating know that unless it’s over 60% they aren’t really even worth our time.

The cabin was only a few hours away and it was quaintly nestled in a wooded area on the side of a mountain. It was absolutely beautiful and I couldn’t believe his grandparents owned this. As terrible as it sounds my first thought was “hm, there must be some money in his family somewhere.” Which made me a little more keen to the idea of him and at this point I was about 40% sure of him.

As we ascended up the steps to the front door my heart began pounding. I wanted nothing more than to retreat to the car and go home. I didn’t want to do this anymore. I wanted so badly to be in the comfort of my own home. What was I thinking when I agreed to this?

We walked in and we were instantly greeted by his lovely grandmother. She was everything you would picture a grandma being. She was short and white haired and she smelled like a familiar Avon perfume, perhaps it was Vanilla Musk. She was beautiful, even her wrinkles were beautiful; they gave her the appearance of a full happy life. She grabbed my hand and immediately pulled me into a warm embrace and for a second I almost forgot she was a complete stranger.

I went to meet the rest of the family and they were all just as kind as his grandmother. His mother was a little cold, but I figured with time she would warm up to me.

The first night came and went and his mother insisted we sleep in two separate rooms which wasn’t surprising in the least. He slept on the couch, like a gentleman, and he gave me the spare bedroom.

Day two was the “Feast Day” as his family called it. The ladies spent all day in the kitchen cooking. I thought I would be exempt from this task seeing that I was a guest, but that wasn’t the case. The minute the sun peeked over the horizon his mother was in my room waking me up to “help prepare.” I was pissed.

“Feast Day” turned into the longest day ever. His mother critiqued everything I did from the way I stirred the mashed potatoes to the way I talked. I’d had about enough of this pretentious woman. She was rude and cold and I wanted to go home and crawl back in bed.

“Feast Day” quickly turned into “Fiasco Night.”

The meal had ended and we were all sitting around the living room in front the fire talking and drinking. One by one everyone started to head to bed. Before long it was just me and Keith, this was the first time we had been alone since we stepped foot in the door.

Keith went on and on about how he felt I assimilated to his family so well and I handled his mother’s criticism like a champ. We began laughing and for the first time since our first date I was actually having a good time with him.

We continued drinking and one thing led to another and before we knew it we were butt ass naked. It wasn’t but 2 minutes later when I heard a woman clear her voice. We jumped up, covered our privates and immediately all hell broke loose. His mother was screaming at me and him, but mostly me. She woke up the whole cabin, even sweet Grandma, who even at 1 a.m. still smelled like Vanilla Musk, the woman must have bathed in it.

10 minutes later his mom was still screaming. She quickly pivoted and we were face-to-face, she grabbed my arm and pulled me off the couch, and I was absolutely still naked. She yanked me towards my room and told me I needed to pack my things. So here was half popped and my boyfriend’s parents AND grandparents were watching me walk to my room with my ass cheeks swaying from side to side. That’s one hell of a Walk of Shame.

Keith ended up driving me home and dropping me off at my house at 3 in the morning. I was mortified and as I stepped out of the car, I didn’t know what to say to him. I turned around to say a simple “Thank You” and before I could get it out he put his hand up as if to stop me and he said “it’s probably best if we don’t talk anymore.”

I think this story was the best present I have ever given to my family. They still mention it at least once every Thanksgiving.

HAPPY THANKSGIVING!!

Tinder Is The New Craigslist

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Despite our best efforts, the first date with anyone can usually be pretty horrendous. The key is keeping an open mind. 99.9% of the dates I speak of are first dates and they are usually pretty horrible, but about 75% of the first dates weren’t total deal breakers. There is nothing better than an absolutely hilarious story to tell on your wedding day about the first time you met. For instance my sister and her husband have a pretty hilarious first date story. I’ll tell you that at a later date, but let’s just say they went to the mall food court. Sometimes a bad first date is the perfect way to start off a great relationship.

I’ll be the first to admit that I hate going on first dates. It doesn’t matter how many times I do it, every time is just as dreadful as the last. First dates can be rather mundane and boring. If you get in the habit of continuously going on first dates the conversation becomes rather, blah. There is really no other way to describe it. I have told far too many people that I’m the youngest of four and before I even finish my sentence I can tell you exactly what they are going to say, “So you’re the baby?” Yes, you dumb shit. The youngest of four does in fact imply that I’m the baby. Good job on putting two and two together.” I don’t mean to get so hostile, but I just get so sick and tired of answering the same questions over and over and over again. I feel like I’m stuck in bad episode of The Flying Nun. Sweet Jesus I don’t know if you’ve ever seen that show, but it is by far one of the worst T.V. shows on Antenna TV. Take my advice on this one, don’t watch it.

We’ve all heard of the fabulous and wonderful Tinder and unfortunately I’ve gone on more first dates with guys from there than I’m comfortable admitting. You never really know what you’re going to get with Tinder and so far it’s been a major disappointment, but I suppose that’s of really no surprise. After all it’s a “dating” app based on superficiality.

Tinder is exactly where I happened to meet this next guy.

First of all I feel that I need to preface this by saying the date was prolonged several days. Not because I was sick or he was sick, but simply because apparently he had “poor time management” those are his exact words, not mine. He had originally said we would go out on a date on a Sunday. He texted me maybe once a few days prior and then Sunday came and Sunday went and I never heard a word. At this point I thought “no hard feelings.” Nothing gained and nothing lost, he just wasn’t interested and that was fine because I myself wasn’t so sure I was interested either.

Sunday had passed and by Monday afternoon I had received a text message from him asking if I’d like to go out on maybe Tuesday. I agreed, because at this point in my life I don’t turn down dates. Not because I need more writing material, I actually don’t need any more of that, but because I would like to get married someday, but I’ve been told I can’t technically marry “Phil.”

I received a few text messages here and there on Tuesday and then he said he would call me when he was ready, he was thinking maybe 8:30ish. 8:30 rolled around and nothing. I waited ever so patiently and 9:45 my phone rings and it’s him. He has the nerve to ask me if I’m still up for it, I respectfully decline and try to save the hostility, after all he has no idea that I have a pretty strict bedtime of 9:30. Not because I’m lame, but because I am gainfully employed and I LOVE sleep. He apologizes and says (I do actually give him credit for his honesty) “I don’t know, I guess I just had bad time management today.”

Normally I would have been somewhere in the “Excuse me? First time we meet and you have bad time management? Get yourself together. I’m not wasting my time.” ball park, but I have realized that hostility gets you nowhere and oddly enough I wasn’t even upset or disappointed. I felt indifferent about it because at this point broken plans were by far the least of the horrible things that have ever happened to me.

If there is one thing I have learned about myself it’s that if a guy is overly interested in me I’m, for all practical purposes, out. I want nothing to do with him and or a relationship with him. If however, a guy has no real interest in me I find myself in a state of admiration. I want him and that’s final. So of course when this guy doesn’t drop his plans for me all of the sudden my interest has been peeked. Challenge accepted.

So, we made plans for a Thursday night and once again it was a late night, but we stuck to them and we both saw them through. When I had asked him where he wanted to go he had said ‘Lava’. Now, don’t worry because the first time I heard it I didn’t know just exactly what it was either. So when I Googled the place I couldn’t help but laugh when I found out it was a Hookah Bar. I don’t know if it was the fact that I hadn’t smoked Hookah since I was 18 or if was the fact that I didn’t know Hookah was even still cool, but I found this to be hilarious.

I showed up at Lava as planned and the date continued as appropriate. I don’t smoke, anything, so I drank a beer and he smoked the hookah. The date progressed as any date would and then it ended and we went our separate ways. The date definitely wasn’t bad, but it definitely wasn’t extraordinary either. It was just another first date and in order to make a solid decision on how I felt about him I would have to see him a few more times.

We continued to go on dates and continued to text and although he seemed to be a great guy, the chemistry was just so-so. It took him somewhere around 3 dates until he finally kissed me, which was strange to me, but I thought he was just being a gentleman so it was kind of sweet.

Every “relationship” (I use quotation marks because it was far from a relationship, but I don’t know how else to describe it) has that one deciding moment. There is always something that happens that makes you say “yep, I like this guy!” or “yep, this isn’t going to work.” In this scenario, for me, it was the latter of the two. I’ll never forget this moment. We went to the Farmers Market together, which in theory is ADORABLE, and we had a pretty good time. He had taken me back to my apartment and when we went to part ways I thought it would be the standard hug, kiss, and goodbye. Once again, I was wrong he hugged me for what seemed like a decade. We just stood there, outside my apartment hugging, and hugging, and still hugging, which was all fine until he said “You’re so little. I like hugging you, it feels nice.” I smiled one of those scared smiles that says “Oh. My. God. Are you going to kill me? Are you Buffalo Bill?” My friend warned me about this. She always said when dating guys from the internet you could be meeting the love of your life or Buffalo Bill.

I really didn’t think he was going to kill me, as previously stated he was a REALLY nice guy, but the strange part wasn’t the hugging. After all the hugging he didn’t even kiss me, he just turned around and said goodbye. It was at this time that I thought, I think we have both lost interest in each other and for the first time in a while I wasn’t wrong.

Some time had passed and we continued to talk off and on, but nothing serious. I was in the midst of the lease on my apartment coming to an end and I was frantically searching for a place to live so I wouldn’t have to move back in with my parents. Much to their demise this was of no success as their basement has now become my humble abode. I tell people its temporary, but I’m currently in the process of painting the walls.

Anyway, I had told him what was going on and he had said something along the lines of: “If we could be friends, it’s possible I might be looking for a roommate if you’d be interested?” I just remember thinking to myself that is quite possibly the worst way EVER to tell someone that you’re not interest. “Hey I don’t really want to date you and I don’t really like you that much. You were basically just filling time, but in an effort to not hurt your feelings and let you down easy, would you like to be friends AND roommates?” Apparently Tinder is the new Craigslist.

A Little Flighty

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Question: What do you get when you give a truck driver a degree and a uniform?
Answer: A pilot.

Now before I proceed let me be clear, I have no issue with truck drivers and I feel it necessary to inform you that my father was a truck driver for years, so obviously I am not down grading truck drivers. I am however, down grading pilots. It’s not to say they’re all bad, but I have only met one pilot in my entire life and he was, well let’s just say he was a little flighty.

Everything started out pretty normal between him and I. That is of course assuming that online dating is considered normal these days. He sent me a wink and I sent one back. Then he added me as a favorite and I reciprocated the action. After we both knew we were on the same page he finally sent me a message that read something like “Hey! I enjoyed looking at your profile (which was a blatant lie, my about me section was just a period. It literally read like this “.”) You’re absolutely gorgeous and the fact that you have a college degree and no kids definitely puts you in the top 10% of women on this website!” That comment alone made me feel pretty extraordinary. I always wondered what my online dating competition was like.

We eventually exchanged numbers and we spent some time texting. As time went by I found out he was a pilot with a pretty hectic schedule. He left out on Monday mornings at the ass crack of dawn and he didn’t get back until late Thursday evenings. Between our schedules that left us with very little time to actually meet up and see each other. So I did something I have never done and something I had thought I would never do, our first “date” was a Skype date. When he suggested that we skype to see each other for the first time, I was slightly taken aback, but I agreed and we set a Skype date for a couple of days later when we would both be free.

As the idea sank in and I had time to think about the oddity of a Skype date, I actually decided that this was a pretty brilliant way to date. You could get a good sense of what the person looks like outside of a picture and you could talk to them and interact with them all from the comfort of your own home. You could wear pajama pants or no pants and they would never know. And if it so happened to turn out that you didn’t like what you saw it was easy: disconnect, delete, block, and you’re home free. For a short moment I thought “this is how all first dates should be from now on.”

Our first “date” came and went and it was pretty flawless. It went so well that we decided to set aside some time so both of us could meet up in real life. Up to this point, I felt pretty good about this date and this guy. We seemed to have a pretty great connection and it didn’t hurt that he was easy on the eyes. Not to mention he was a pilot and he got free airline tickets. I couldn’t afford to NOT date him.

Our first real life date was finally here and just as our skype date went, this too was flawless. We had dinner and walked around and talked and laughed and everything seemed to be going great. He was quite the gentleman. Compared to most of my past dates it doesn’t take much to hit that mark, he could apologize after nearly shitting his pants and I would consider that a gentlemanly gesture. He was better than that though, he paid for dinner AND he held doors open for me, quite the show off. He talked a lot about his job and at times it almost seemed like he was gloating. This only bothered me because let’s be honest, he’s nothing more than a glorified truck driver. He seemed to be a little cocky, but I tried to look at it as a true love for his career.

However, the date proceeded without any issues and all in all I thought it was pretty wonderful. It wasn’t just me who thought the date went well because before the night had ended and we kissed each other good bye he asked if he could see me again. Of course there was no hesitation when I agreed. I couldn’t stop thinking about how perfect everything had gone and for a brief second I had a momentary lapse of judgment and I let my mind wander to a place I never let it wander and I thought “what if he’s the one?”

He had sent an immediate text message to me telling me what a wonderful time he had and he couldn’t wait to see me again. For a brief moment it felt like everything was exactly how it should be.

We continued our Skype dates and texted each other often. We finally decided on a day when we could see each other again. He thought we’d keep it low key and romantic and so he decided that he’d cook dinner for me and I would come to his place, it all sounded so perfect.

It was finally time for date number two and once again I was all dolled up. He had texted me his address a few hours earlier with strict instructions to be at his apartment no later than 6p.m. So I obeyed his instructions and I was pulling in to his apartment complex at that exact time. I wasn’t sure which apartment he was so I texted him to let him know I was there. A few minutes had passed and I hadn’t heard back. Thinking maybe he was busy putting on last minute touches and didn’t have his phone on hand I decided to call. No answer. Not allowing myself to think the worst I decided I’d give him a few more minutes. He’d text me back, right?

After an hour of sitting in my car and no response I finally came to terms with the fact that, for the first time in my whole life, I had just been stood up by this stupid pilot, part of me was hoping he was dead and the other part of me was hoping he was on fire. Those would be the only two acceptable reasons as to why he wasn’t making an appearance.
Of course I went through the last week over and over again in my head. Wondering where I went wrong and why this would have happened, but by the end I came to the conclusion that it really wasn’t me and he was just an asshole.

A few days went by and he didn’t contact me and I didn’t contact him. It turned out to be just another one of my failed attempts at love.

Then the strangest thing happened, about a week later he sent me a text and asked me to get on Skype to which I replied “Okay” and then I never got on, it was my sad endeavor at revenge.

A few days later I got on Skype to speak with someone else and I had all these messages and voicemails from him. As I started to listen to them, all I could think about in my head was “Holy shit, I’m glad I tuck and rolled right out of that crazy train” and “Does the airline he flies for, know that he’s certifiably insane?” I went to read all the messages he had sent me and they were all pictures of him. He sent me at least 1 megabyte worth of dick pics. In a situation where I should have been completely mortified I couldn’t help but cry from laughter. The panic didn’t set in until I remembered that my parents Tablet was hooked-up to my Skype account. I immediately deleted, blocked, and changed my password.

In the end, I was saddened by the fact that I would have to buy my own plane tickets, scared that my mom saw a penis that didn’t belong to her husband, and glad I escaped the disaster that was the horny pilot.

A Terrible Promise

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I was getting my daily dose of Pinterest the other day and after I had pinned all the helpful tips that will one day make me a good mother, wife, baker, and cook, I decided I would parooz the wedding section. No, I’m not getting married anytime soon, but I’d like to think I’m one day closer than I was yesterday, although, the chances of that are about as unlikely as me moving out of my parents’ house before I’m 30. As I was searching for the perfect dress and ring I stumbled across something truly appalling: The promise ring.

My first thought was “Wait a hold it, do people still get promise rings?” as I pondered this ridiculous question I then had to further ask myself “Do adults give/receive promise rings?” I was then immediately transported back to my high school sweetheart.

I was 15 years old and I was about to enter my sophomore year of high school. I was at that awkward bratty teenage stage where I thought I was on top of the world and everyone owed me everything. I also thought I had the world dangling by my fingertips. So, it was no surprise that from the moment I first set eyes on the older boy at the X-Men III movie, I knew he was going to be mine.

I completed the mission I had set out to conquer; I did in fact make him mine. I just knew he was the one I would spend the rest of my life with. Just like I knew I would be a famous broadcaster and just like I knew my parents were out to ruin my life.

We dated all through high school and it was anything and everything, but glamorous. There was the dramatic break-up after break-up and of course every girl in high school wanted what I had, him. Or at least that’s what I had thought.

I can vividly remember the moment I made such a big deal about not having a promise ring. I was practically the only one out of my friends who didn’t have a ring on their finger to show they were in a “committed” relationship. It was such a petty thing to do and looking back on it I can’t help but laugh, but it worked. He finally got me a Promise ring and he gave it to me on Valentine’s Day, oh the originality. It was the most beautiful ring I had ever seen and it was by far bigger than any of my friends, which obviously was all that mattered. I had never been more in love than I was with that beautiful diamond.

Two weeks later we broke up.

So this brings me to the main topic of conversation, the promise ring and its stupidity.

It’s a terrible promise. At best a promise ring is a commitment to a commitment. It says “I’m not really sure I want to marry you and commit to you forever, but I think, maybe one day. So here, wear this ring and show the world my halfhearted vow that one day I might actually make a real commitment.” Chances are he’s not giving you a promise ring to show you how much he cares, he’s giving it to you to get you, your mom, your sister, and your closest girl friends to stop asking him why you aren’t engaged yet.

It’s a waste of money. I don’t know the going rate for a promise ring these days but if I had to guess I would say somewhere between a K-Mart Ring to the discounted section at Halzberg. I’m thinking of a price range between $99 and $600. How about you just save your money and put it towards the actual engagement ring you might buy me one day or you could literally buy me anything else, just not a promise ring. All I’m saying is there is a pair of Christian Louboutin heels that I’ve been lusting after and I would much rather have those than a stupid promise ring.

There are a million ways to show your commitment. As stated previously a promise ring is a terrible promise. In no way shape or form does a promise ring really provide a promise. Just like when I was 18, it easy to end the relationship. An engagement ring is given with the intent of an upcoming wedding. A promise ring is given to stall the giving of an actual engagement ring. To me it doesn’t really show commitment as much as it shows fear of making the final, actual, commitment. If you want to show you’re a committed boyfriend there are a million ways to do it and in my opinion a promise ring should NOT be one of them.

It’s childish. When you’re in high school, it’s fine. Now that we’re all adults though let’s just be upfront with what we want. You either want marriage eventually and you will make the commitment in a few years or you don’t. None of this Promise ring, maybe one day bullshit. You either do or don’t. End of story.

In the end a promise ring is a personal preference. Just know if you’re over the age of 23 and you’re boyfriend gives you a promise ring and you feel the need to show me, I will laugh in your face.

For my future love interest, or Phil if you will, if you EVER buy me a promise ring there’s probably a good chance that that will be the end of the road for our relationship. Now, if you buy me the Louboutin’s we can probably talk about a future.

The Stranger at the Pool

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Bad Dates happen more often than not. They are a part of life and a part of figuring out exactly who we want to spend the rest of our lives with. I’ve learned to take bad dates with a grain of salt and chalk ‘em up to character building. For instance, without the horrific cat experience I never would have known that cats were a complete deal breaker, or without the vertically impaired men I never would have come to the realization that height (no matter how superficial it sounds) is important. Look, my superficiality isn’t something I’m proud of, but I don’t care who you are, we are all somewhat superficial and if you think you’re an exception to this rule, I can personally guarantee you that you’re wrong.

This brings me to my next of many tales…

It was one of the first good days of summer we had had in a long while. The sun was out full blast and the temperature was topping the scale somewhere around 80 degrees. After the long and horrendous winter we had it was practically a sin to not be outside enjoying the warmth. I decided to take this beautiful day and hit up the pool at my apartment complex. This was one of the first of many days I would spend out by the pool drinking, alone. I’m not proud of the fact that I was drinking at 11 a.m. on a Saturday morning alone, but if I wasn’t “that person” then who would have been? It’s a tough job, but somebody has to do it and unlike most I willing to step up to the challenge.

With my plans of swimming and day drinking, I had no intentions of meeting anyone or for that matter talking to anyone, hence the day drinking ALONE. So, obviously I didn’t try to get myself all pretty for the pool like I find most girls doing, which by the way, is ridiculous. I didn’t even bother to shower after the workout I had that morning, so you can imagine I was probably looking somewhat like a drowned rat, but again I wasn’t there to impress anyone.

I entered the pool and sat in a corner that, for the most part was away from everyone else. All I really wanted was relaxation and some time to myself. The pool became overrun with classless hung-over college kids around 2 p.m. of which I didn’t so much mind, but rather I found myself more yearning for my college years, just wishing I could have that carefree life back and realizing that would never happen — and so, my next drink was a little stronger than the last.

As I was sitting there minding my own business I heard the person next to me say something. I wasn’t sure if he was talking to me or not so I ignored him at first and then I heard him start talking again. I turned to my side to just give him the nod of acknowledgment and go about my business but the conversation started at a rapid pace. “So you from around here?” “How long have you lived here?” “Do you like it here?” “Are you drinking?” Holy bombardment of questions, slow down. Did I at some point in time unknowingly agree to play 20 questions?

I’m not the type of person that doesn’t like talking to strangers, I’ll spark up a conversation with anyone, anywhere, at any time, but the key word is “I”. I will do it on my own terms and on my own time. I’m laying here listening to music with my eyes shut and somehow this fella gets off thinking that I’m looking to make new friends.

I decided to pull my bikini out of my ass and stop being such a bitch, because truth is I should probably work on being friendlier to strangers. As we’re talking I realize this guy is actually pretty funny and he wasn’t all that terrible looking either. He spent an abnormally long time talking about how much money he made, which was strange to me, but I just figured he was trying to make himself sound better than he really was. Naturally, at about hour 3 or 4 of my day drinking I found the conversation increasingly more interesting.

When the sun finally fell behind the tree line he had asked if I wanted to go back to his place and join him in grilling hamburgers. 6 hours of lying out in the sun, no eating, and liquor made for an obvious answer of YES! Not to mention I hadn’t done any grocery shopping for a while, so it was actually a pretty solid decision.

We get back to his apartment and I excused myself to use the bathroom. When I came out of the bathroom I was shocked to see that this man I just met at the pool looked like a complete stranger. He had taken off his sunglasses and I swear my jaw hit the floor. He had these beady little bug-like eyes, they were so tiny, I can’t even describe them, but I’m positive the circumference is unmeasurable. They were the creepiest things I had ever seen in my entire life. It’s almost as if I had just sobered up from a long night and was finally seeing things clearly. I’d never met someone who looked so different with sunglasses on.

I decided I would try and look past it. After all, we did just spend the last 4 hours getting to know each other and he seemed to be a quality guy, or so I thought.

We ate dinner and I headed back to my place for a shower and nap. He had conveyed his interest in wanting to go out that night, but had also informed me that he just moved here about a week ago and didn’t really know anyone. So, when my friends said they would be going out I decided to invite him to tag along. We all actually had a ton of fun and since he spent the majority of our pool time bragging about all the money he made I didn’t even feel slightly guilty that he spent the whole evening paying for everything. If you feel the need to bring up the fact that you make “a ton” of money, then you better pony up and get out that credit card.

For a split second I thought, maybe I could look past the beady little devil eyes. So, when the opportunity presented itself for us to hang out again I took it, with the thought process that once again I’m stepping out of my comfort zone, exploring unchartered territory.

The evening started out just fine. He cooked dinner and we talked and watched TV. We were in the middle of an action packed drama when out of my peripheral vision I see him taking off his shirt. I find this to be a little odd because it’s not hot in the house, but I let it slide trying to not think too much into it. As I’m sitting there he continues to undress. At this point I had no idea what was going on, but I lost it and I just started laughing hysterically, which was apparently not the response he was looking for because the look on his face was a rather perplexing one. I stood up and covered my mouth with my hand trying hopelessly to hold in the laughter that was erupting from within the deepest part of my stomach. I could hardly get out the words “what are you doing?” but when I did, his response was nothing short of “What? I thought tonight was the night!” My eyes started watering as I was on the cusp of hysteria. He slowly started to pull his clothes back on and I could see the rejection and embarrassment flash across his face. I almost felt bad and wanted to apologize, but let’s be real, who did this guy think he was? I gathered my belongings and politely excused myself from his apartment.

The moment I stepped outside of the door I exploded with laughter. My whole body was shaking and I could hardly make it back to my apartment without having to stop to catch my breath.

I was lying in bed that night laughing and pondering just what exactly this guy was doing. Did he really think that if he just started taking his clothes off I would follow his lead?

Needless to say I never heard from him again, which was okay because it was apparent that he just wanted someone to sleep with and if that’s the case then I’m definitely not the girl.

It’s not that I consider this guy to be total scum, but the sheer fact that he was so confident in himself that he just started to get naked is enough for me to mark him down as a total dirt bag.

The hilarity of this situation continued when I was at the pool about a week ago and I saw him pulling the exact same moves with another girl. I laid in my chair quietly giggling to myself. After some time I heard him say the ever so famous line: “Do you wanna go back to my place and maybe grill some hamburgers?” At this point I felt the need to warn the girl, but who was I to deprive her of a story this good and hey, who knows, maybe she’ll be into it. I highly doubt it though, his sunglasses were still on…