Showing posts with label dating. Show all posts
Showing posts with label dating. Show all posts

Wednesday, October 20, 2010

Why I'm Going To Die Alone (Part 1)


I’m not really a writer. If I had my way, I’d describe my life experiences to Roxy, and she’d put it into some kind of witty banter for me. But since she’s such a busy girl, I can’t possibly expect her to sit and write this for me. So I’m bucking up and sharing my story with you myself. Please excuse the fact that this isn’t the wittiest blogpost you’ve ever read. But I promise you, you WILL be entertained.
Here is something you need to know about me to fully understand my dating life. You know that instinct of fight or flight? Well, I’m all flight. When I get spooked, I run like hell. The very first haunted house I went into as a little kid had to turn on its lights and completely halt its operations so that I could be carried outside while bawling my eyes out. One of the girls in the house who was dressed up as a corpse in a coffin even stopped and said, “It’s me! Tanya! Your babysitter! Don’t be scared!” No difference. I had totally lost my cool. A weeping, hysterical mess. If someone sneaks up on me from behind, I either end up on the ground in the fetal position or take off running. I’m also not a risk taker. I grew up in the country, but I hated going “mudding” or driving a jeep like a bat out of hell up and down the levee. Basically, I’m a huge chicken. This is completely ironic considering the fact that if one of my friends or family is being attacked or wronged, I turn into the fiercest momma bear and become all fight. Seriously. I once tried to claw out a guy’s eyeball in Argentina for trying to steal my aunt’s Rolex. But that’s a story for another time. I tell you all of this to get one point across: Don’t share your crazy with me too early in a relationship, because I’ll cut and run faster than you can say “commitment phobic”.

I’m not a big fan of dating websites for myself. Don’t get me wrong, I highly encourage my friends to get on the well-known sites and get out there just to see who comes along. I know people who have had great success on such sites. However, while I meet the most bizarre freaks of nature in my day-to-day life, I find that my luck is usually so much worse online. Don’t believe me? Well, in my first attempt at a dating site, I met and had 1 ½ dates with a guy who loved musicals (could even do the choreographed dances with the songs), had a hippie mom who did drugs with her friends and sometimes forgot she had his baby sister in the house for hours or even days, was terribly abused by some of his mom’s boyfriends and husbands, and thought it would be a good idea to share ALL of this with me on the first date. Needless to say, I got up and walked out of our 2nd date when the crazy just kept on coming. Next up was a guy who lived 3 hours away and within 4 hours of giving him my phone number was texting me about how he was going to spank me. Seriously? We hadn’t even laid eyes on each other yet. I was done with him moments later. He couldn’t understand why. My last fella on that website was the controlling and manipulative mailman. Within a week, he said that he’d been patient enough to wait for sex as long as he had with me (yes, one week – he never got lucky, by the way), and after two weeks, he pronounced his undying love for me. The last straw with him came over Thanksgiving, when I got a call at my parents’ house that he was still at his sister’s in Southeast Texas (he should have been home the day before) because his youngest son had broken his collar bone. It was his fault the kid had an accident. And this was the THIRD time that poor kid had been injured (gash in the head, broken arm, and broken collarbone) while in his care. His ex-wife must have wanted to choke him! I couldn’t begin to fathom dating someone who had his 70-year old mother call his ex-wife to explain what happened to the kid. It was over before I finished my 6 hour drive back from home. I was officially 0 for 3, so I cancelled my membership to that website ASAP.

Fast forward about a year…. I have several friends who were giving it the ol’ college try on that website’s biggest competitor, so I figured I’d change venues and see what happened. Sigh. I got through the many communication stages with one guy, and he seemed pretty normal in the beginning. Then we started talking over the phone. After a two or three conversations, he told me that he cheats on his taxes, was beaten by his dad with a radiator hose when he was young (WTF?!?), makes up fake resumes so that he can attend career fairs at universities where he never once paid a cent of tuition, and I was lucky to have him still interested in me since I’m between jobs right now. Excuse me? I’m lucky? He was also an obnoxious know-it-all. If I made a statement like, “I want a kayak” (because I’d have rockin’ arm muscles if I had one, duh!), he would reply with something like, “I built a kayak out of cedar strips once.” He didn’t know my last name, but he took it upon himself to talk on my behalf to recruiters at those previously mentioned career fairs – and he expected me to be grateful. Instead, I was insulted and pissed. It wasn’t going to work out, and I didn’t need to meet him face-to-face. So I texted him one night to say that I didn’t think it was a good idea to continue to talk to each other. When he asked why, I replied that I had been thinking about him cheating on his taxes and making up fake resumes, and dishonesty was a huge deal breaker for me. His response? “That’s cool. I was getting some pretty huge red flags about you, too. Peace out.” Dick.

This leads us up to last Thursday night.

(To Be Continued…)

Wednesday, September 15, 2010

Put a Ring On It

"If you liked it, then you shoulda put a RING on it"... God Bless Beyonce. She's ranting about what I am feeling. Well, maybe not puttin' an actual engagement ring on it, and most certainly not a penis ring (gross). But, how about dinner? What the hell happened to a nice dinner date? I'm talking about a proverbial ring.

And this ranting feeling is because I've got a date next Friday night to go listen to live jazz with Mr. Good in Bed. So Mr. "GIB" and I have been knowing each other for about 5 years. I believe our first bedroom encounter happened on January 1st, 2006 (after 2 dates). Over those 4.5 years, I've broken it off with him roughly 4 times. Yup, 4. He just keeps coming back. He's persistent and cocky and sexy and he rocks my world. We've never been in an actual "relationship", unless you consider a couple of dates followed by the best sex of my life as a relationship. I consider him to be my relational bed buddy. The problem? I like him outside of the sack. But, all we've been is the sack.

So I broke it off the no strings sex with GIB a few months ago, explaining that I was dating other people, and it just jacks with my head way to much to be sleeping with him while I'm looking for my potential new boyfriend. And although it wasn't an ultimatum, it was honestly a last ditch effort to try to con him into actually dating. He didn't take the bait. It also doesn't help that we are so comfortable with each other that he accidentally screamed out "I love you" during an "intense" moment. Don't worry, I laughed and didn't take it to heart. But, I knew that I might be next, and thus must flee this toxic situation stat.

After the break off, I got a few crude "sext" messages from him and one email, which I ignored, and didn't hear too much of a peep out of him until a few days ago.

A few weeks ago I met someone new and promising. Stage right enter "Mr.Really Nice Guy (RNG)". He takes me to dinner, but I'm fairly certain won't break the bed or rip my clothes off before we even get the front door closed. He's nice. He's thoughtful. He's cute. We seem to have much in common, and he's super into me.

So GIB sends me the longest email he's ever composed. He asks about my job, my summer, and says he'd like to get together to chat-- as friends. REEEEEEAAALLY? So after a few bantering emails back and forth, it's a date. He will pick me up on Friday night at 8. Not this Friday, but the next. A man who plans two weeks in advance? Well that kind of gets my motor running. This Friday? I have a date with Mr. RNG (really nice guy). He's not picking me up at my insistence. I'm weird about new potentials knowing my address. GIB has obviously known for awhile. He's my go to booty call.

And the thing that makes me madder than a hornet at myself is that for years I've wanted GIB to turn into an RNG and be in a LTR- with me. Now I've got a guy who I can tell is headed that direction. He wants marriage and kids and the whole nine yards. And yet... I'm more excited about my jazz date with GIB. He finally decided to "put a ring on it", but is he serious about dating me? I'm spending a Friday night to find out. I however will not shave for two days prior to the date, and will be wearing my most hideous granny panties in an effort to insure myself against any advances made by GIB. He knows I'm weak. RNG has yet to learn that lesson. As Mae West used to say, "A hard man is good to find." Here's to treading lightly.