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Protected: My favorite city

16 Mar

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Protected: Encore!

15 Mar

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It’s raining men

15 Mar

Dear sister, go away now.  Don’t read this post.  You should probably be doing something with Damien since he’s on spring break.  Bet he’d love to go see Black Panter again.  Oh, or I know!  Maybe you can plan a nice date night for when my bro-in-law gets back in town.  Mom and I can watch the kids on Saturday night.  You should work that shit out.  Also, go away.

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How do you say “kiss me” in French?

15 Mar

You guys.  YOU GUYS!  I like this one.  I mean like this one.  It’s going to happen, I can feel it – in the same way I could feel that #4 was going to end up in my bedroom (on more than one occasion).

Monsieur le Baguette and I are going to happen.

Sunday we had the greatest date in the history of great dates.  Prior to that, I would have said my best date had been the first official date with 3D. It was the Sunday before Memorial Day.  He invited me over to his house for a cookout.  He made tacos to celebrate my Mexican heritage, we played board games, we made smores in the firepit, we made out in his pick up truck, we took a midnight stroll across a college campus, he was a dreamboat.  It was great fun.  Then I got sick, ended up in the hospital, and almost died.  Let’s forget that part since it was after the date.  Let’s also not factor in that I slept with someone else the morning of the date.

That date with 3D has been bumped down to #2 because Monsieur le Baguette now gets the distinction.  We spent 14 (12 really) hours together.  We had an amazing brunch, went whiskey tasting, sat outside and drank together, he kissed me by the water, we drank some more, we flirted, we laughed, kissed again, I took my shirt off in his hotel room, and he spooned me.  Obviously some other stuff happened in between too.  And we laughed, so much.  He’s so funny.  Doubled over, crying laughing.  We just clicked.  Lock into key, 2 puzzle pieces, whatever, we clicked.  He’s so funny and cute and has dreamy blue-green eyes and he likes me and he’s so adorable!  His eyes.  Those dreamy blue-green eyes that look right into your soul – le sigh, people.

While we were sitting by the water enjoying our drinks, he said to me, “this is going to happen, isn’t it?” Duh, totes going to happen.  We dove into the conversation – listen, I’m down.  I like him, but we’re going to have to take it slow here.  He’s 7 months out of a 10+ year marriage.  I told him he had to rebound with someone else, work it out of his system, go and sleep around, and then come back to me.  I don’t think my heart could take it if I was the rebound – too painful.  I don’t need to know about it, he just needs to work that shit out.

The sad part about all of this romance is he lives over an hour away, it’s okay, we’re going to figure it out.

Lots of texting since Sunday.  He’s smitten, I can tell by when he tells me he misses me, or he can’t wait to see me, or whatever.  In some respects the distance is good because we’d both jump in with both feet and we need to  s l o w  i t  d o w n  or it will fizzle fast.  Last night he left the country for a long weekend.  He called me from the airplane to say goodbye, and he text messaged me this morning.

You guys, it’s happening.  I’m going to be his little spoon.

Gimmie Love

8 Mar

Dear younger sister, or really, dear only sister.  Now’s the time for you to go and find something else to do and not read the post.  What’s for dinner tonight?  Are you and the kids going out since my brother-in-law is heading out of town?  May I recommend something delicious for tacos?  Because tacos are always good.  Get on that.  And stop reading.  Thank you.  Goodbye.

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Clarity

6 Mar

I am liberated.  I have clarity.  I feel like William Wallace yelling “FREEDOM!” and marching forward.

I didn’t cry yesterday.  Not one single tear.  Instead, I got answers and with those answers a weight was lifted off my shoulders.  The feeling of the weight no longer there was incredible – I actually felt my shoulders soften.  I slept like a baby.

So as I wrote yesterday, in the haze of my disappointment with how things were with #4, I sent one last text message.  He responded in that tepid way he had been for the last few days.  In the text box I had written, “Is it just me, or are things really weird now.”  I stared at it for a few minutes and was getting ready to hit send when another one of his messages popped up and he asked if I was friends with any of my exes.  I didn’t send my text.

Um, what?  Okay.  I answered I was and asked why he wanted to know.

Then there it was.  As soon as the text message came from him it was like magic.  The clarity.  The reason and I was free.

He said he had stayed in touch with one of his ex-girlfriends, she was the first girl he dated after his divorce.  The rebound.

He had talked about her at dinner last week.  She wanted babies and to get married, and he didn’t want those things.  They had broken up, but they’d back slide.  As clear as he thought he was being with her, he thought she still wanted those things.  With him.  He liked her, as someone to hang out with and sleep with, but he didn’t want anything serious with her (or anyone) and he was afraid he’d hurt her.  He had said he thought maybe they couldn’t be friends because she wouldn’t be able to separate what she wanted with what he could give him, and it was a dick move on his part if he was stringing her along.

In last night’s text messages, she comes up again.  They were trying to be friends.  They were trying to be friends with benefits.  Apparently she thought they were dating again, when he thought it was just them having fun.  And he spilled out all this stuff about what he was thinking and whether/not he was going to hurt her and blah blah blah.  And in my head I was like, “whew, it’s not me.”  That validation I needed that it hadn’t been something that I had done and that it truly was something in his head.

It flipped a switch for me.

I left the conversation with the upper hand.  He’s lured back in.  He sent a message this morning.

And with that, I’m closing the door on him and moving on.

I am free.

Protected: That stings

5 Mar

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Unstoppable

5 Mar

I’m exhausted from Tindering and dating.  Flirting with the world, coming up with crafty messages, figuring out what bra to wear and whether/not I should wear flats, and trying to pretend like I don’t care that #4 is being weird is enough to tire anyone out!

Two dates on Saturday.  Two.  Almost a third, but he waited too late to text me (more about him later).

Saturday Date 1: Civil Servant (#7)

Saturday afternoon I met up for coffee with Civil Servant.  First, let me apologize for initially reporting he was 32.  My bad, he’s 34.

I’ve not really had a date like this one before.  Usually I go on dates because I think there’s potential for something with someone.  In some cases we establish afterward that perhaps it’s not going to be long term, ala #4.  At least by that point we already know there’s some chemistry. Prior to meeting Civil Servant we agreed it would be casual, so this was more of a formality to determine whether or not we had a spark.  What added to the awkwardness, is there was zero booze involved.  Coffee is great and all, but it doesn’t quite give you that faux confidence/courage that alcohol can give you.  We shared Tinder stories, talked about awful hook ups, and about random other stuff.  Here’s what I found out about him: he’s from the area, does policy work for the government, oldest of 6 kids, was on the verge of engagement when his relationship fell to shit, has a hot body, and a hell of a smile.

Was their heat?  Yes there was.  Someone I’d want to date long term?  He’d bore me, wouldn’t challenge me (in a good way) enough.  He double checked my age and told me I looked great and said, “you’re very attractive.”  I’d like to send a shout out to genetics, a 30 pound weight loss, my J. Crew jeans that accentuate my backside, and a button down top that accentuated the girls (but not too much).  My Tinder profile is clever and I mention I’m terrible when it comes to house repairs and I was hoping to find a handyman on Tinder.  He said he could help and he’d bring his toolbox over and he’d take care of the little repairs around the house.  He was dead serious.  Adorable.  Hawt.

He had his phone and I noticed he was getting a lot of text messages.  At 2:15 I announced he had somewhere to be and we should wrap it up.  He walked me to my car and said, “I’d really like to see you again.  I think we’d have a lot of fun.” We both had plans for the night and agreed it would be fun to meet up sometime.  That’s code for “get naked at my house.”  He said he’d remember his toolbox.  We should have made out – just that final chemistry test – but we didn’t.

The following text exchange proceeded.

  • Me: That was fun.  You know how to find me.  Don’t worry about the toolbox, I’m sure we can find something better to do. 😉  Enjoy going out with your friends tonight.
  • Him: Agreed 🙂 On both fronts 😘.  Have fun with yours.

My text game was strong.  He text messaged me yesterday.

Verdict: Civil Servant is a go.  I’ve penciled him in for Thursday night. 🍆

Saturday Date 2: Fly Boy (#8)

A few days ago I matched with this guy on Tinder who was HILARIOUS.  He had me doubled over, crying from his silly messages.  Of course I had to whip my phone out and share the messages with my friend who agreed he was funny.  He’s in Baltimore for a few months before being sent overseas for some assignment.  After an afternoon of text messaging, he said, “I’ve melted my brain playing too many video games.  Let’s go be awesome.”  Clever.  I bit.

The plan was we’d meet up for a few drinks and then go find somewhere fun to go.  I picked a low key place that has great food and drinks that are the bomb.  I got there first, like usual.  When he walked in, or more like sauntered in, I thought, “oh no. I think he likes boys.”  Okay, reset.  We’re going to be friends.  Fine.  He’s funny, and I love funny friends.  We spent about 5 hours together, even went bowling afterward, and it was a fun night.  Here are a few things I found out about him: he was raised Mormon, married for 8 years, and had 15 tattoos.  He was not conservative in the least.

One of the things I love to do when I’m on a Tinder date is ask about the stories.  I love hearing about the great dates and the terrible ones.  The crazy girls.  All of it.  So I asked Fly Boy about his stories.  He had nothing to share.  He said he could always tell what the girl wanted in the early stages, and if it was too risque, he’d shoot it down and unmatch them.  Bummer.  No stories.

We ended the date with a hug in the car.  I would have died from shock if he had tried anything.  Also, ew, because we had no chemistry.

Verdict: Fly Boy is a no go.  I’d love to set him up with one of my gay friends.