It's been a long time my friends! I must admit having been on a few dates since the last post and yes, I'm still single. After mulling it over for a while I have come to the conclusion that perhaps it is not my lot in life to be "coupled up". Not that I wouldn't make a good girlfriend or wife, I think I could actually do that with success. It's just that I think that I actually enjoy the "in relationship" status and tend to want to live in that area more often than not. The problem with that is... you have to meet someone and date them in order to get there. This leads me back to the "lot in life" situation. I have assessed the following-generally speaking, I don't enjoy the process of dating. Here's why:
1. I don't often meet someone I'd actually like to date. I don't know where other adults meet these fabulous people but I tend to see and talk to the same people on a day-to-day basis. On the occassion that I'm out and about talking to new people AND I am asked out, it tends to be by the guy with the neck tattoo who just got out of the pen, still living in the transitional living home. So...
2. I tend to go on dates just for something to do or to "try it", see MatchDotCom & Marathon. Really, not a good start to any potential relationship. I thought I was being "open-minded". I have since decided that it is a waste of perfectly good time. Both of ours.
3. If I do go on a date with someone I do like, I tend to become completely anxious. What should I wear? Where are we going? Should I meet him there? Should he pick me up? Am I talking too much? What does he want? Is he just trying to hook up? The awkward moment when the check comes... See what I mean? Good grief.
4. The complicated "rules" and games; who can/should call/text who & when after the date, how often to respond to said calls/texts, how often to be versus not be available (you know, the whole who's pursuing who deal). I was reading an article recently that stated that women should not call a man later to thank him for the date or say that you had a nice time. Apparently, that's his job. Who knew? I thought it was being polite and expressing interest. Maybe everyone else learned of these rules while I was busy working and raising children?
So I've decided to pursue some hobbies and interests that working and raising children also derailed such as taking a salsa class, going to the art museum, learning about my family tree, and exploring things I enjoy... And that my friends, does make me happy!
Saturday, November 10, 2012
Tuesday, September 6, 2011
ILAC
When I was in the first grade, each classroom had a time to meet with the school counselor. We spent time talking about feelings, how to treat people, and what to do in various situation. During these sessions the counselor would bring out this stuffed animal, a dolphin, called Duso. Before Duso would emerge, we'd have to sing, "Hey Duso, come on out.... something something something I can't remember now". During one of these sessions, Duso and the counselor, explained to us how everyone has an "ILAC" card. A what? Yes, an ILAC card (I Am Lovable and Capable) inside of them that can be showered with love, kindness, meaness, etc. For example, if someone hurts your feelings, they rip your card. Pretty basic stuff there, afterall, it was a program for elementary school kids.
This leads me to today. Yes, this very day. I titled this ILAC but I could have also called it Match #4. So, I connected on match with this guy, Deon, who initiated communication to me via email. His profile was cool, pictures nice, so we exchanged numbers, sent a few texts. Today we decided to just meet briefly to see if there was any chemistry or in-person interest. Turns out, there was. He was good looking, funny, employed (2 jobs even), and complimentary. After the meet, he sent a text saying that it was good to meet me and he thought that I was pretty and he'd call me when he gets off work at 9pm. All good things. About an hour later, he asks (via text) how many children I have and I tell him. His response to my answer, "Whoa!!! Ok. Um, how old are you again?" I'm irritated. I refer him back to my match profile and let him know that I'm not hiding anything... He sends me a text back, "Lol." That was the last communication.
Summary: I hate to admit it, but his reaction "ripped" my ILAC card and hurt my little feelings. Why? Mainly because it was unexpected-all this information IS on my profile so when you contact me, you know what's up. As for my ILAC card; nothing a little tape won't fix.
Verdict: No match. This is grown woman territory; step up or as "Martin" used to say, "Get to steppin'!". Also, I like a man who can read and does not randomly use "lol"....
This leads me to today. Yes, this very day. I titled this ILAC but I could have also called it Match #4. So, I connected on match with this guy, Deon, who initiated communication to me via email. His profile was cool, pictures nice, so we exchanged numbers, sent a few texts. Today we decided to just meet briefly to see if there was any chemistry or in-person interest. Turns out, there was. He was good looking, funny, employed (2 jobs even), and complimentary. After the meet, he sent a text saying that it was good to meet me and he thought that I was pretty and he'd call me when he gets off work at 9pm. All good things. About an hour later, he asks (via text) how many children I have and I tell him. His response to my answer, "Whoa!!! Ok. Um, how old are you again?" I'm irritated. I refer him back to my match profile and let him know that I'm not hiding anything... He sends me a text back, "Lol." That was the last communication.
Summary: I hate to admit it, but his reaction "ripped" my ILAC card and hurt my little feelings. Why? Mainly because it was unexpected-all this information IS on my profile so when you contact me, you know what's up. As for my ILAC card; nothing a little tape won't fix.
Verdict: No match. This is grown woman territory; step up or as "Martin" used to say, "Get to steppin'!". Also, I like a man who can read and does not randomly use "lol"....
Sunday, September 4, 2011
Key Lime Pie!
Now, it's true, this happened a while ago, but I had a sudden rememberance in the car the other day and thought I'd share it. On the side of fairness, I must say that there have been, and I dare say, will continue to be, times when I will or should be the "butt" of the blog so to speak. This is one such occasion...
I love the Cheesecake Factory. I do I do I do. I have yet, knock on wood, to have a bad meal there or bad drink or even bad service. And cheesecake? In a multitude of full fat flavorful yumminess? If ever food was love, it would be at the Cheesecake Factory. So, I am out to dinner with a guy-Mark. Mark and I are seated by the host and provided with water, menus, nothing out of the ordinary. What was out of the ordinary and which I have never, never ever, had happen to me before or since, was the waiter. What is this extraordinary thing about this waiter you say? His BREATH!!! He squatted down at the end of our table to take our order and I had to hold my breath. It was incredible, unbelievable, unfathomable that his breath could smell like that and he be allowed to serve food. It had to be a health violation of some sort.... In anycase, he took our order. He returned later with the food and this time I was prepared-I saw him coming and held my breath the whole time, answering him in mmmhmmms and ahhhnnns. I even held it for a few seconds after he left, just to be sure.
Dinner was wonderful. I consumed with abandon. When it was time to leave, our waiter returned and asked if we wanted to order dessert. I ordered the Key Lime flavored cheesecake to go (I did not want to regret these missed calories later!). Unfortunately, during the ordering of this magnificent dessert, I caught a whiff of THE BREATH. I am not, I repeat, not, exaggerating the rankness of this waiter's breath. I excused myself from the table, feeling quite nauseous, and damn near burst into the women's restroom.... and relieved my stomach of the delicious meal it had not yet digested. That's right people. His breath made me vomit.
Summary: I took my key lime cheesecake home but could not eat it-just the idea of it now made me whoosy. I could not eat it the day after or the day after that either so I threw it away. I did not go to the Cheesecake Factory for about four months and when I finally did.... I was virgin scared. But got over it. :)
Verdict: I emerged from the restroom and returned to the table, flushed, sweaty, and probably not all that attractive looking. I'm sure my date was wondering what my problem was, so if you read some guys blog about this... let a sistah know!
I love the Cheesecake Factory. I do I do I do. I have yet, knock on wood, to have a bad meal there or bad drink or even bad service. And cheesecake? In a multitude of full fat flavorful yumminess? If ever food was love, it would be at the Cheesecake Factory. So, I am out to dinner with a guy-Mark. Mark and I are seated by the host and provided with water, menus, nothing out of the ordinary. What was out of the ordinary and which I have never, never ever, had happen to me before or since, was the waiter. What is this extraordinary thing about this waiter you say? His BREATH!!! He squatted down at the end of our table to take our order and I had to hold my breath. It was incredible, unbelievable, unfathomable that his breath could smell like that and he be allowed to serve food. It had to be a health violation of some sort.... In anycase, he took our order. He returned later with the food and this time I was prepared-I saw him coming and held my breath the whole time, answering him in mmmhmmms and ahhhnnns. I even held it for a few seconds after he left, just to be sure.
Dinner was wonderful. I consumed with abandon. When it was time to leave, our waiter returned and asked if we wanted to order dessert. I ordered the Key Lime flavored cheesecake to go (I did not want to regret these missed calories later!). Unfortunately, during the ordering of this magnificent dessert, I caught a whiff of THE BREATH. I am not, I repeat, not, exaggerating the rankness of this waiter's breath. I excused myself from the table, feeling quite nauseous, and damn near burst into the women's restroom.... and relieved my stomach of the delicious meal it had not yet digested. That's right people. His breath made me vomit.
Summary: I took my key lime cheesecake home but could not eat it-just the idea of it now made me whoosy. I could not eat it the day after or the day after that either so I threw it away. I did not go to the Cheesecake Factory for about four months and when I finally did.... I was virgin scared. But got over it. :)
Verdict: I emerged from the restroom and returned to the table, flushed, sweaty, and probably not all that attractive looking. I'm sure my date was wondering what my problem was, so if you read some guys blog about this... let a sistah know!
Wednesday, August 24, 2011
The Marathon
I recently put a week behind me doing something that I have not done in either a very long time or ever. What is this magical thing you say? A marathon. No silly, not one that requires running shoes and physical fitness. A dating marathon. I went on three dates on three consecutive nights. And came to a few unexpected insights.
Like a marathon:
A. This activity, my friend, takes stamina.
B. I became tired in the middle section (date2) but caught a second wind towards the end!
C. Sometimes you brush up against someone who stinks.
D. You feel proud of yourself when you are done.
Unlike a marathon:
If you are not careful, when you cross the finish line, you will NOT be thinner, in better shape, or cute. You will be FAT. Why? Lots of drinks. Lots of eating out at restaurants.
Summary: It was an experience... and calories DO add up.
Verdict: I'll likely not make this a habit-being "on" so many days in a row is exhausting & I better get back to the gym. Le sigh. The gym. ;(
P.S. I'll tell you about the dates later
Like a marathon:
A. This activity, my friend, takes stamina.
B. I became tired in the middle section (date2) but caught a second wind towards the end!
C. Sometimes you brush up against someone who stinks.
D. You feel proud of yourself when you are done.
Unlike a marathon:
If you are not careful, when you cross the finish line, you will NOT be thinner, in better shape, or cute. You will be FAT. Why? Lots of drinks. Lots of eating out at restaurants.
Summary: It was an experience... and calories DO add up.
Verdict: I'll likely not make this a habit-being "on" so many days in a row is exhausting & I better get back to the gym. Le sigh. The gym. ;(
P.S. I'll tell you about the dates later
Match: Date #1
So..... I had my first matchdotcom date. Let me preface this with what I'm going to call the "The Dating Chronicles" Givens, which is what I'm operating from at this point and time.
Givens:
I arrived early to the Buffet and waited for Michael. This I believe will continue to be an awkward experience because, in actuality, you don't really know who you're waiting for and if they will look more or less like the picture they posted. In this case, Michael looked better than his pictures. Good start. We were seated immediately and he was very gentlemanly. He talked about where he was from (Fiji!), his immigration to this country, what he does for a living, his ex-wife, and his experiences on match. He was quite a talker and did so for an hour. After talking for this extended period, like it was a sudden afterthought, he says, "Oh. I guess we should eat." I thought so too, since the restaurant was going to close in an hour. Sidenote: I found more Indian food that was good to me. Still won't be suggesting Indian, but I expanded my horizons.
Now, to me, first dates are not occassions to share your negative relationship history, talk extensively about your ex, complain about your job, or other such downers. Why? See Given #3. If the first date cannot be fun, then what's the point of continuing? Besides, I also think this is a good time for evaluating/assessing shared interests, shared values, attractiveness, and attraction. In any case, Michael seemed interesting enough and somewhat funny. What I could not figure out was the attractiveness piece. It's true, he was better looking than his profile pic, but something was off and I could not figure it out. What was it? What was it? As I assessed, and assessed, I pinpointed the area of concern: the mouth.
He was MISSING TWO FRONT TEETH!!! (one of the big ones and the side one next to it). Good grief. I am a little bit mad at matchdotcom. Why? There's no profile criteria to select: Must have all front teeth.
Summary: He seemed like a nice enough guy. I was not really feeling the attraction and the missing teeth totally squashed it. Shallow? Maybe so, but I'll trade a man with BMW and missing front teeth, for a man with a Toyota with ALL his front teeth anyday. Real talk.
Verdict: No match. I think if you are going to put yourself out there to date-decent teeth fall under basic. Well...... unless maybe you're 98 years old.
Givens:
- I'm trying to keep an open mind-you never know
- A date is a date is a date-meaning enjoy it for it's own value, not more, not less
- Have fun-who doesn't need fun?
I arrived early to the Buffet and waited for Michael. This I believe will continue to be an awkward experience because, in actuality, you don't really know who you're waiting for and if they will look more or less like the picture they posted. In this case, Michael looked better than his pictures. Good start. We were seated immediately and he was very gentlemanly. He talked about where he was from (Fiji!), his immigration to this country, what he does for a living, his ex-wife, and his experiences on match. He was quite a talker and did so for an hour. After talking for this extended period, like it was a sudden afterthought, he says, "Oh. I guess we should eat." I thought so too, since the restaurant was going to close in an hour. Sidenote: I found more Indian food that was good to me. Still won't be suggesting Indian, but I expanded my horizons.
Now, to me, first dates are not occassions to share your negative relationship history, talk extensively about your ex, complain about your job, or other such downers. Why? See Given #3. If the first date cannot be fun, then what's the point of continuing? Besides, I also think this is a good time for evaluating/assessing shared interests, shared values, attractiveness, and attraction. In any case, Michael seemed interesting enough and somewhat funny. What I could not figure out was the attractiveness piece. It's true, he was better looking than his profile pic, but something was off and I could not figure it out. What was it? What was it? As I assessed, and assessed, I pinpointed the area of concern: the mouth.
He was MISSING TWO FRONT TEETH!!! (one of the big ones and the side one next to it). Good grief. I am a little bit mad at matchdotcom. Why? There's no profile criteria to select: Must have all front teeth.
Summary: He seemed like a nice enough guy. I was not really feeling the attraction and the missing teeth totally squashed it. Shallow? Maybe so, but I'll trade a man with BMW and missing front teeth, for a man with a Toyota with ALL his front teeth anyday. Real talk.
Verdict: No match. I think if you are going to put yourself out there to date-decent teeth fall under basic. Well...... unless maybe you're 98 years old.
Saturday, August 20, 2011
MatchDotCom
Let successful couples who met online tell it, EVERYONE, can meet someone online and be successful at it. Give it a try. Look at us. There's someone for everyone blah blah blah blah, my eyes are glazing over. Nonetheless, I do have friends or associates who have met online and have had really good long-term relationships or ones that have led to marriage. Despite these reviews and testimonies, I still hesitated to become part of this online community as it were. However, recently, I was once again encourged to try this, Match, specifically and so I am. I have a one month subscription. Is one month enough time to really meet someone? I don't know. What I do know is that I still feel, what's the word..... obscene. Obscene for having to pay to be introduced to someone. But you only live once, so we'll see how it goes.
To begin with, you have to set up a profile before you actually begin the matching process. This took me FOREVER. I just don't know what to say to a man I do not know and have not met. Should I try to be witty? Will it sound like I'm bragging? Should I disclose every thing they are asking? Should I talk about the kids? Work? Should I have a definite goal-i.e., I'd like to be married in the next two years? Too much pressure people too much! Next, the picture. Match highly encourages you to upload one and I agree. A picture IS worth a thousand words. And occasionally, a thousand audible gasps if you stumble upon the wrong one. Then there are all of these options you can do. You can "wink" for free. You can send an email. You can filter your email. There's the matchcall. Then you can "favorite" someone and they can "favorite" you. You can see how many times your profile was viewed and who viewed it (which can be very demoralizing if, let's say, your profile was viewed 175 times and you have received three emails or "winks"). I'm just saying.
In any case, it's in progress and I'll keep you posted. The positive: I'm keeping an open mind. The negative: Some lady "winked" at me. No thanks sistah. No thanks.
To begin with, you have to set up a profile before you actually begin the matching process. This took me FOREVER. I just don't know what to say to a man I do not know and have not met. Should I try to be witty? Will it sound like I'm bragging? Should I disclose every thing they are asking? Should I talk about the kids? Work? Should I have a definite goal-i.e., I'd like to be married in the next two years? Too much pressure people too much! Next, the picture. Match highly encourages you to upload one and I agree. A picture IS worth a thousand words. And occasionally, a thousand audible gasps if you stumble upon the wrong one. Then there are all of these options you can do. You can "wink" for free. You can send an email. You can filter your email. There's the matchcall. Then you can "favorite" someone and they can "favorite" you. You can see how many times your profile was viewed and who viewed it (which can be very demoralizing if, let's say, your profile was viewed 175 times and you have received three emails or "winks"). I'm just saying.
In any case, it's in progress and I'll keep you posted. The positive: I'm keeping an open mind. The negative: Some lady "winked" at me. No thanks sistah. No thanks.
Friday, August 19, 2011
But He's Really Cute
When you're single and not dating and you go on a vacation in the Caribbean, especially in Jamaica, sometimes things happen. Sometimes things get ahead of you. Like for instance, you have a moment (that lasts the whole six days of the vaca), where you literally lose your mind. You are intoxicated. Yes, because you are away from work, home, and the general idea of being on holiday. Yes, by the rum punch, pina coladas, and hummingbirds. Yes, by the sound of waves, the sand, the sun, the resort experience. But that's not it. What really causes this under the influence behavior are the men. They are everywhere. They are full of compliments, long stares, and encouraging. They suggest you "FULLJOY" your stay on the island, yeah mon! Another thing about being on vacation is that every moment is at once sped up and slowed down. For instance, the pace is slower, you have no particular place to go, you're chillin'. Alternately, should you meet a man there, time speeds up because well, you ONLY have six days. So what, you ask, does this have to do with dating and Daceia? Read on.
In July this year I went to Jamaica. I'd been before so I sort of knew what to expect, nevertheless, the intoxication hit me. After having been there for a couple of days, I met a really cute, extremely handsome man from the Dominican Republic. Yummy. He introduced himself and we'll call him, um, Wyatt. I know, not a very Spanish name. Well, neither was his. He had Latin swag, worked as a contractor, on assignment in Jamaica for six months. Wyatt loved to sing and dance and did so often as we walked and talked. Wyatt was HOT. Now it's true, he spoke little English. No problem, mon, this is Jamaica. Besides, I speak a fair to good amount of Spanish. So we managed-he had a daughter back home, traveled a lot for work, and really, did not like Jamaica-"all they play is Reggae. No Salsa. No Merengue. Me no likey Jamaaaica". So we hung out. Thank you Jamaica!
Let's fast forward to a moment in dating that really can set the tone, good or bad, brief or long, about the relationship. The first kiss.
After hanging out one day, Wyatt goes for the first kiss. It starts off well-slow and tender. Then, in an instant, in a millisecond, it's OVER. No, not over as in finished, over as in the good part is over. He starts licking my face. ALL over my face. Stop laughing. I'm serious. Like a dog would lick your face. I'm stunned and confused and my mind can't comprehend what's occurring. I'm thinking, did he just lick my face?! No, nuh uh. But yes, it did occur. Who does that? Oh, Wyatt Wyatt Wyatt! "No me gusta! NO me gusta!!" Understanding crossed his face but not belief as he continued. Then licked my nostrils. Then my shoulder. Ummm, I gotta go. "You leaving? Why you leaving?". He stops licking me. Then resorts to what I can only call Operation Keep Her Here, Section B, of the Men's Manual. He takes off my sandals and begins a foot massage. Well, I still want to go... but hey, it's a foot massage, Section B is working. For now. Unfortunately, if you have ever ever been in this situation, you know that this diversionary tactic will not limit itself to the task at hand. There is an agenda. The foot massage swiftly becomes an opportunity, an "invitation" if you will, to Suck. My. Toes!! My mind is yelling at me now, saying things like "Hey, I've been in flip flops ALL day! HEY!, good grief buddy!"
Summary: That's it. The gig is up for Wyatt. I leave and go to my room, dumbfounded and in disbelief. I immediately wash my face. Immediately. No me gusta. No me gusta.
Verdict: No match. Not even for a summer fling. Charge? Indiscriminate and unsolicited licking. Very disappointing. I actually really liked him. Perhaps with a little coaching, this licking habit could be redirected.... But that's a tale for another type of blog :)
In July this year I went to Jamaica. I'd been before so I sort of knew what to expect, nevertheless, the intoxication hit me. After having been there for a couple of days, I met a really cute, extremely handsome man from the Dominican Republic. Yummy. He introduced himself and we'll call him, um, Wyatt. I know, not a very Spanish name. Well, neither was his. He had Latin swag, worked as a contractor, on assignment in Jamaica for six months. Wyatt loved to sing and dance and did so often as we walked and talked. Wyatt was HOT. Now it's true, he spoke little English. No problem, mon, this is Jamaica. Besides, I speak a fair to good amount of Spanish. So we managed-he had a daughter back home, traveled a lot for work, and really, did not like Jamaica-"all they play is Reggae. No Salsa. No Merengue. Me no likey Jamaaaica". So we hung out. Thank you Jamaica!
Let's fast forward to a moment in dating that really can set the tone, good or bad, brief or long, about the relationship. The first kiss.
After hanging out one day, Wyatt goes for the first kiss. It starts off well-slow and tender. Then, in an instant, in a millisecond, it's OVER. No, not over as in finished, over as in the good part is over. He starts licking my face. ALL over my face. Stop laughing. I'm serious. Like a dog would lick your face. I'm stunned and confused and my mind can't comprehend what's occurring. I'm thinking, did he just lick my face?! No, nuh uh. But yes, it did occur. Who does that? Oh, Wyatt Wyatt Wyatt! "No me gusta! NO me gusta!!" Understanding crossed his face but not belief as he continued. Then licked my nostrils. Then my shoulder. Ummm, I gotta go. "You leaving? Why you leaving?". He stops licking me. Then resorts to what I can only call Operation Keep Her Here, Section B, of the Men's Manual. He takes off my sandals and begins a foot massage. Well, I still want to go... but hey, it's a foot massage, Section B is working. For now. Unfortunately, if you have ever ever been in this situation, you know that this diversionary tactic will not limit itself to the task at hand. There is an agenda. The foot massage swiftly becomes an opportunity, an "invitation" if you will, to Suck. My. Toes!! My mind is yelling at me now, saying things like "Hey, I've been in flip flops ALL day! HEY!, good grief buddy!"
Summary: That's it. The gig is up for Wyatt. I leave and go to my room, dumbfounded and in disbelief. I immediately wash my face. Immediately. No me gusta. No me gusta.
Verdict: No match. Not even for a summer fling. Charge? Indiscriminate and unsolicited licking. Very disappointing. I actually really liked him. Perhaps with a little coaching, this licking habit could be redirected.... But that's a tale for another type of blog :)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)