tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34296508603962863252024-03-13T17:07:29.841-04:00Whatever Jerkface! A single girl's adventures in dating.<strong>I am a 27-year-old single girl living in the Cincinnati area. These are my adventures in dating.</strong>Whatever Jerkfacehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15190369641768327715noreply@blogger.comBlogger20125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3429650860396286325.post-52476625481938202812010-05-11T08:34:00.002-04:002010-05-11T08:35:53.412-04:00I've moved!I've moved! Please follow me at<br /><br /><a href="http://whateverjerkface.com/">http://whateverjerkface.com/</a><br /><br />Thanks!Whatever Jerkfacehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15190369641768327715noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3429650860396286325.post-63320761727684107012009-07-20T22:05:00.002-04:002009-07-21T14:37:20.811-04:00Fiddler on the WoofSo I know it's been awhile. I had started to date someone for a few months (a few months back) and for the time being have been asked not to write about him. Not by him, mind you, but by my own family. I'll get around to him eventually but for now I'm going to take a dip in the pool of my past.<br /><br />I met <span style="font-style: italic;">Fiddler</span> through yet another online dating service. I've subscribed to all of them at least once. The free ones just don't do it for me. Something sketchy about them but anyways. <span style="font-style: italic;">Fiddler</span> and I exchanged a bunch of emails. He was tall, looked handsome from his photos, was from the same area I had been born in, like the same sports teams, and was smart. He wasn't the greatest at making me laugh but I thought that maybe electronic correspondence wasn't his forum.<br /><br />We agree to meet for dinner and then attend a symphony afterward. I was thinking classy. Not so much. I get to the restaurant first and put my name in. It's spring in Ohio. Hello prom season. There are girls in fancy dresses and guys in suits all around me. I'm sitting there and a guy that looks like <span style="font-style: italic;">Fiddler</span> starts walking toward me. Except he is in a tux. Little bow, frilly dress shirt, the whole nine yards. He goes on to explain that the symphony we are going to after dinner, he is playing an instrument in it. You've got to be kidding me! I have to sit and watch this concert by myself? What kind of date is that? Oh yeah. A lame one. Dinner wasn't that bad. It was at one of my favorite eateries. The conversation at dinner? Horrible. He wanted to talk about his project for his higher level of education completion. I consider myself a smart woman. This stuff was just over my head. Not even the smile and nod was working. After trying to explain in little words he finally gave up. I was feeling rather dumb and a little ticked off at this point. Oh well.<br /><br />The concert was pretty cool. I think I was the only one there sitting by myself though. That made me feel a little lame. It ends and at this point I just want to go home but I am conned into going out for drinks with some of the people <span style="font-style: italic;">Fiddler</span> just played with. I have a beer and head home after saying my goodbyes.<br /><br />Date two was no better. Why did I go on a second date you ask? Because I can be <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">guilted</span> into doing things by my mother and sister. They are always telling me I don't give enough of a chance. To prove them wrong I do what they ask and always end up getting to do the "I told you so" dance. This was just like the first date. Met <span style="font-style: italic;">Fiddler</span> before, talked for a little, and then I got to watch him play his instrument. (Typing that sounds so dirty.) This time at least I got to see <span style="font-style: italic;">Fiddler on the Roof</span>. The play was good. The pregame and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">postgame</span> not so much. At this point I can't decide what I want to do. Part of me actually kind of likes <span style="font-style: italic;">Fiddler</span>, he's a decent guy. The other part of me doesn't. He has these little idiosyncrasies that drive me crazy. He rests his hands together on top of his gut like a pregnant lady would. I wanted to ask him when he was due. He had an odd sleeping arrangement with his dog. His dog got the bed. Not sure where <span style="font-style: italic;">Fiddler</span> slept. Didn't really care enough to ask.<br /><br />I owed it to myself (read: I don't know what I was thinking) to give it one more shot. This time I got to pick the "date". I suggested a picnic lunch in a park with just the two of us. He says that he would love to, if we brought our dogs along. It sounded like a cute idea and I was game. I packed a lunch for both of us and some extra water for the dogs. It started off <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">ok</span>. Well at least until the dogs met. For some reason they didn't get along. What was supposed to be a nice stroll turned into us walking on opposite sides of the path. With lunch and the walk the date lasted all of 90 minutes tops. The goodbye was the worst part. I won't go into major details but let me just say that the little kids in the car next to us got a lesson on the art of kissing that day. I didn't want to kiss him at all. Kissing is very intimate for me. If it's anything more than a peck on the lips (even though I prefer cheeks when it's a strange man kissing me) I better have given you the go ahead to do so. <span style="font-style: italic;">Fiddler</span> sticks his tongue in my mouth and down my throat. I try pushing him away twice but he just grabbed onto me tighter and kept going. Rude. I finally manage to break free and give a little wave goodbye as I get into my car. Needless to say I think he realized that things weren't going to go any further and I didn't hear from him again.<br /><br />I know I'm hard on men. I'll be the first to admit it. The only reason I am is because I'm looking for the real deal. I don't want to settle for anything less than a weak in the knees kind of love. I know it's out there. I only have to find it. Until I do I'll punish myself by dating and hopefully entertain you with my stories.<em></em>Whatever Jerkfacehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15190369641768327715noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3429650860396286325.post-54714729698199929772009-03-18T07:02:00.001-04:002009-03-18T18:09:04.934-04:00What do you call a boomerang that doesn't come back?Yesterday was St Patrick's Day. One of my favorite holidays and this year it makes it to the top of "The most bizarre holidays I've had" list. (I don't have many bizarre holidays. That's why it was able to make the list. Aside from my dating experiences I lead a normal life.)<br /><br />I'm sitting around minding my own business when I get a text from a number that I don't recognize.<br /><br />"Hi Cincy"<br /><br />Ummm. WTF? They use my name? So I shoot back a text asking who it is.<br /><br />"<span style="font-style: italic;">Gives real name"</span><br /><br />I'm thinking to myself that I only know one guy with that name so I check my backup number list. It's where numbers go when I "delete" them from my phone. Nope doesn't match the number of the person I thought it belonged to. Crap. In the meantime I shoot back this generic message asking him how he was to buy myself some more time. We exchange a few more texts and I'm starting to get an idea of who it might be, especially after he said that we first met about a year ago. Not being 100% sure, I come clean and ask him how we know each other.<br /><br />"We talked for a few weeks but never met."<br /><br />That was all I needed but <span style="font-style: italic;">Jason Bateman</span> decided to send me his picture to refresh my memory. You have got to be kidding me! You blow me off, pretend it never happened, and now, a year later, are texting me?<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Jason Bateman</span> starts asking how things have been, if I'm seeing anyone, etc. I don't want to answer but at this point I'm too intrigued not to so I keep the conversation going a bit longer.<br /><br />Me: So what made you drop me a line?<br /><em>JB</em>: Always thought u were sweet. Wanted to talk<br />Me: Ok. So are you seeing anyone?<br /><em>JB</em>: Yea, i am<br />Me: Congrats. How long have you been dating your girlfriend?<br /><em>JB</em>: Bout 14 months<br /><br />At this point I don't answer <span style="font-style: italic;">Jason Bateman</span> back. You remember me being sweet a year after the fact. Did you tell your girlfriend how sweet I am? I doubt it. Does she know you are sending your picture to me? Probably not. Jerkface. I remember what an ass you turned out to be and I'm sure that she would like to know too. I'm guessing that she is the reason that we never went out in the first place. She can have you. I don't need sloppy seconds.Whatever Jerkfacehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15190369641768327715noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3429650860396286325.post-47293298580978939002009-03-16T21:26:00.001-04:002009-03-18T18:10:21.045-04:00Deliciously White TrashSo since I've been doing the whole dating online thing since before it was popular I have some great stories. What follows happened well over 9 years ago, while I was still in high school.<br /><br />So back in the day before Match.com and the like I used Yahoo. They had some kind of personals section where you could search for people, blah, blah, blah. The best part was it was free, bonus! These were the days where my parents were still leery of me meeting strange men over the internet. Not that they still aren't leery whenever I go to meet someone new but at least now I don't have to have anyone with me.<br /><br />Yes you read that correctly. Have someone with me. I did it. I admit it. One of my fondest dates included me, the dude, and my younger brother. And by fondest I mean worst. <span style="font-style: italic;">Cletus</span> and I meet on Yahoo. He had one photo and it was kind of grainy but he looked cute.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Cletus</span> and I exchanged an email or two and then phone numbers. We talked on the phone every night for 2-3 weeks and then decided to meet. This being one of my first experiences with online dating my mom decided that my younger brother had to go along with me. I fought it at first and when she told me it was either that or not going at all I gave in and took him along. Thank goodness I did.<br /><br />We meet at a local bowling alley. My brother and I get there first and were just kinda hanging out watching the people around us. There are a lot of interesting characters around us and we both focus in on one that is walking our way. No way. Dude is wearing acid wash jeans, a white t-shirt, cowboy boots, and an unbuttoned flannel shirt that had the sleeves torn off. Did I mention the mullet? Yep. <span style="font-style: italic;">Cletus</span> had a mullet. Oh and he looked nothing like his grainy picture. It was bad.<br /><br />We were only one game into the night and I was having a horrible time. I was thinking to myself how I was going to get out of this one when it hit me. I waited until <span style="font-style: italic;">Cletus</span> went to the restroom and then told my brother we were going to get out of there and to just follow my lead. <span style="font-style: italic;">Cletus</span> gets back and before starting another game I tell him that we had to leave because my brother had a project to finish waiting for him at home and we were going to have to cut the night short. I'm sure he knew that I was trying to fib my way out of this date but at this point I didn't care. I wanted out.<br /><br />We returned our balls and shoes and said good night at the door. <span style="font-style: italic;">Cletus</span> kinda looked like he was expecting a hug but I gave a little wave and walked with my brother to the car. It was a very awkward night, not just because I had my brother with me but this guy looked nothing like his picture. Don't put outdated photos of yourself on your profile. It's just stupid. You aren't going to fool anyone, especially me.Whatever Jerkfacehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15190369641768327715noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3429650860396286325.post-27221832588522703302008-08-21T20:29:00.009-04:002009-03-03T21:25:54.898-05:00Two birds, one stone.So I'm not going to go into a whole lot of detail here because <span style="font-style: italic;">Canadian Bacon</span> reads this. Let me just say that what could have been very good, ended up being very bad. At the very least we are still friends and I wish <span style="font-style: italic;">CB</span> the best of luck. And on a side note Canadian bacon is not real bacon. It's an impostor. Don't let them fool you.<br /><br />Now on to the guy that was supposed to get my mind off of <span style="font-style: italic;">CB. </span>I met <span style="font-style: italic;">The Flying Opossum</span> through an online dating site. I'm really starting to see a pattern emerge here. Meet a guy, go out a few times (if ever) and then the crazy emerges. <span style="font-style: italic;"><br /><br />The Flying Opossum </span>contacts me last Monday. We send a few emails back and forth and then exchange phone numbers. Let me just tell you from experience if you have the option to either exchange email addresses or phone numbers or heck, even both, never let them know your last name. It's the only line of defense you have. So we talk and set something up for Friday night. I'm really looking forward to this.<br /><br />Friday night we meet for dinner and have a few beers at this outside mall/movie theater place. Things are going pretty good so he asks if I want to go over to the car show across the street. I like cars. I don't know much about them but they are pretty to look at. While walking around looking at the cars he grabs my hand and holds onto it. Too cute. We spend around 30 minutes looking at cars but the highlight of that part of the evening, at least for me, was the monkey. Seriously. I saw a monkey! A real, live one that was sitting on some lady's shoulder. I wanted to go pet it but then scared myself into not doing it. Especially since it was the same kind of monkey that carried the deadly virus that was in the movie <span style="font-style: italic;">Outbreak</span> and Dustin Hoffman wasn't around to save me. (Over-active imagination hard at work here folks.)<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">We go back over and buy tickets for a showing of <span style="font-style: italic;">The Dark Knight</span>. Since we have some time to kill before the movie <span style="font-style: italic;">The Flying Opossum</span> and I go grab another drink. I get a fruity fru-fru drink and he orders the same. Kinda lame but whatever. There's a stereotype for you. This is my second time seeing <span style="font-style: italic;">The Dark Knight</span> and I was still really focused on it. He did the good 'ole reliable yawn and stretch and put his arm around me. I wanted to be all like "Don't bother me, this movie is fantastic," but I didn't. I was nice about it. The night ends with a light kiss on the lips. Not my usual style but at the time I wasn't too upset about it.<br /><br />Saturday he texts me and asks me if I want to come to a cookout he is having on Sunday. I say sure. <span style="font-style: italic;">The Flying Opposum</span> then tells me that it is going to be me, him, and his parents. I don't want to do this yet but the "angels" on my shoulder tell me that I should. Sunday was good but it wasn't. I ended up spending my first 45 minutes alone with <span style="font-style: italic;">The Flying Opposum's</span> mother at his apartment. He is <span style="font-style: italic;">really</span> into anything that deals with aviation and planes and his apartment was decorated accordingly. Oh the reason he wasn't there when I got there? <span style="font-style: italic;">The FO</span> had some car trouble<span style="font-style: italic;"></span> that him and his dad had to go take care of. His parents are nice country people. I have friends that are country people. After meeting his parents I can never ever make fun of those friends again. Pets <span style="font-style: italic;">The FO</span> had while growing up: squirrels, raccons, opposums, rats, mice, guinea pigs, other small rodents, a miniature donkey, cats, and the list goes on. His mom still rescues opposums. I'm sorry but I can't find anything cute about them. Their pointy nose and their shrewd beady eyes, not to mention the naked tail. Eww. And his dad talked like that coach from <span style="font-style: italic;">The Waterboy</span> that noone can understand but it wasn't that bad...yet.<br /><br />We have dinner, I serve dessert and then as a group go to tour his office. Whoa. Isn't this a bit too much a bit too fast. We just met I am not your girlfriend. His parents leave and he wants me to stay longer and watch a movie. I got to pick so was all like "Sure." I pick a movie that I hadn't seen and he all tries to make out with me while it's on. I look at him and as nicely as I can tell him that he is distracing me and I really want to see this. He is starting to move just a bit fast for me here and is kind of creeping me out.<br /><br />Monday night I hear from him so we make plans for Wednesday night. He also wants to know what I'm doing so that we can go out. That night. Isn't that a bit last minute and a little much. He wants to know what I'm doing Tuesday night. Seriously. He also had some lewd comments to make about the exercises that I was doing while talking to him. Not going to get into it but when I called him out on it he had nothing good to say. I cancelled our date on Wednesday.<br /><br />I am not desperate. I am not looking for someone who has to be with me every single second of every single day. I like it when a man comes on strong but there is a line and it was crossed. From now on creepers need not apply. </div>Whatever Jerkfacehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15190369641768327715noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3429650860396286325.post-46485502735350389762008-05-30T23:34:00.002-04:002008-06-01T10:35:44.464-04:00*Clap* *Clap* *Clap* And you're done!Tonight was supposed to be my second date with <em>Finance</em>. I say supposed to be because it never happened. I have a sixth sense about crap like this and saw something like it coming.<br /><br />It started Wednesday night. <em>Finance</em> wanted me to call him when I got home. I told him it could possibly be late because I was going shopping with a friend and had to edit my sister's paper. He told me it was no problem. Ok, cool. I went to the mall with one of the <em>A's</em> and got a new shirt to wear Friday night. (Thanks <em>Aunt M</em> for the gift card!) By the time that I got home and finished everything I had to do it was 10:15 PM. I send him a text asking him if he was still up. He shoots back, "I am really tired and already in bed." That's fine. I'm tired myself. It's been a long day and shopping always wears me out.<br /><br />Thursday morning I don't get a text from him. Since we started talking he has <strong>always</strong> sent me one when he woke up in the mornings. I think this is weird but don't worry about it too much. <em>Finance</em> also sends me multiple texts throughout the day. I get nothing from him so I send him one later on and all he has to say in reply is that he is busy at work. Since I didn't get the chance to call him on Wednesday I decided I would call him when I got home from work on Thursday. He doesn't answer and I leave him a voicemail. I get nothing from him Thursday night. By now my jerk sensor is going off. I'm hoping that I'm wrong and push it out of my mind.<br /><br />It's now today, Friday, date day. I woke up early, got all my stuff together, and drove to work. I don't drive to work, I take the bus. For me to drive it's a big deal. It's noon and I still haven't heard from him so I shoot him an email asking if we are still on for tonight. Nothing. By now I am getting kind of mad. At least have the courtesy to tell me we aren't on for dinner anymore.<br /><br />I don't hear from <em>Finance</em> until 3:15 PM, two hours before we are supposed to meet for dinner. When I do hear from him I feel like an ass. He tells me that he was in an accident involving his four wheeler, was knocked unconscious, and broke his arm. OMG! I get messages from him like, "I'm alive thats all that really matters." And, "Its better than it could have been." For the next half hour he has me feeling sorry for him.<br /><br />Then I get this, "Lol. Had ya goin. Didnt actually get hurt. Ha ha!" You effing asshole. I felt sorry for you. I was ready to forgive the fact that you were acting like a tool the past few days. I don't say anything in reply. My phone beeps again. "But you are going to be mad at me though." He cancelled on me. Want to know why? He blew me off because he got an effing ticket to the baseball game tonight. You do not blow off a second date for a baseball game and expect the girl to be understanding. I bought a new shirt, I got waxed, I shaved my legs. I had a lot of time and money vested into something that was never going to happen. I don't say anything in reply. I am done. Whatever Jerkface.<br /><br />Seriously. He went from nice guy to asshole in a finger snap. Who makes up a story about a broken arm to get sympathy? A sick, twisted fuck, that's who. Excuse my language but I'm just a little ticked off. I delete his number, I remove him as a friend on the social networking site where we met, and I delete his email address. I don't need this. There are too many other real nice guys out there to waste any more of my time on this one.Whatever Jerkfacehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15190369641768327715noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3429650860396286325.post-56545287432265963632008-05-28T20:11:00.000-04:002008-06-01T10:36:08.710-04:00How do I detest thee? Let me count the ways.Last Friday I had a lunch date with <em>Finance</em> (he is an accountant). He is this guy that I have been talking to since the middle of April. Where did I meet him you ask? It's a funny story. I veered away from the traditional online dating sites and branched out a little bit. I actually met him through a free online networking site.<br /><br />We exchanged a few messages through this online networking site and then moved to real email. From there the medium changed to texting and calling. <em>Finance</em> was easy to talk to, super sweet, and seemed really into me. He would send me a message first thing in the morning and we would "talk" throughout the whole day. The only thing I didn't like was how busy he was. He kept saying things like, "We really need to meet soon." Or,"I really want to meet you in person soon." Could he ever make plans? No. He always had something going on. There were a few times I was ready to just give up. I enjoyed being chased but after so long I start to tire of it when the chasing party doesn't catch me. I'm no track star.<br /><br />So<em> Finance</em> finally makes solid plans to meet up with him for lunch last Friday. It was the perfect first date. It didn't drag on and on. It lasted a hour and that was it. I wish all first dates were like that; it's really dreadful when they are bad and seem to go on forever. The best part was there wasn't a single thing I didn't like about him after meeting him in person. That is a huge accomplishment for me. I don't go out on many second dates because I am kinda picky and I usually find something during the first date that turns me off. Hence second dates are rare.<br /><br />He doesn't kiss on first dates either. We like the same football team. We are both originally from the same state. Our baseball teams are mortal enemies but I can forgive him that since I am not a huge baseball fan. He has a degree and a full time job. He opened doors for me. I know people that know him so I can get references. He is cute and makes me laugh. Twice now he has dropped hints that he would like to date, exclusively.<br /><br /><em>Finance</em> sent me a message right after the date when I was driving home telling me what a good time he had and how he couldn't wait to get together again soon. We made plans for tomorrow. A dinner date and then possibly a movie or something afterwards. Since I picked the time and place for our first date I told him he was in charge of the second one. I'm excited. Wish me luck.Whatever Jerkfacehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15190369641768327715noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3429650860396286325.post-75025824146801324522008-05-27T21:23:00.004-04:002008-05-28T14:35:39.266-04:00The Three StoogesSo I've been a busy girl dating wise and I thought that it was finally time for an update. About two weeks ago I went on three dates, with three different guy, in three days. Talk about exhausting!<br /><br />Monday night's date and Tuesday night's date don't really warrant their own individual paragraphs. Monday night's went well but I knew I wasn't really going to hear from him. I liked him but we clicked as friends, maybe, but that was about it. (He doesn't even get a nickname. Lame.) Tuesday's night date, <em>Crab</em>, was a nice guy but looked like the love-child of two male friends of mine. No thank you. (I call him <em>Crab</em> because he 'Can't ride a bike'. Seriously. I'm not kidding.)<br /><br />Wednesday night<br />So <em>Lester's</em> profile had three pictures. Two were quasi-decent pics (<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">ok</span> can't keep a straight face saying that) and the third was kinda creepy. I was hoping that the third pic was just a bad one and not an accurate representation of what he actually looked like. I'm sitting in my car before our dinner date and I see someone who might be him walk towards the restaurant. Crap. Crap. Crap. He looks like the third picture. I can already tell that this isn't going to go well. I walk through the door and he sees me and offers me a handshake. Seriously. A handshake. A weak one at that. We are seated and I start looking around to see if there is anyone that I know around. (Yes I know that is very bitchy of me but I didn't care. I wasn't obvious about it. Obvious would have been seeing someone I know and sprinting for the door halfway through my pizza.) Conversation isn't too bad. We stick to things that are appropriate for first dates: some childhood stories, favorite TV series, family members, etc. We talk about our jobs and I mention that I take the bus to work. He seems really interested in this and proceeds to tell me that his dad rides the bus to work also. Great. He asks me what bus I ride and when I tell him he goes "My dad rides that one too!" Shit. I don't know why yet I feel doomed but this is foreshadowing at it's finest.<br /><br />Dinner comes and he had ordered this huge burger. I don't think that it's gonna fit into his mouth unless he has special snake powers and can unhinge his jaw to swallow it whole. It was gross. I won't go into detail here because I don't want to have to relive it but think Animal Planet Special. Then he starts talking about politics and religion. Two big first date no-<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">no's</span>; especially when you don't agree and it gets really awkward. I am so ready for this to end. So we are about 75 minutes into the date. Dinner is done, my leftovers are boxed, check is paid. He asks what else there is to do around there because it's only 8<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">ish</span>. I don't really want to do anything else with this guy but I could really use a beer at this point. I suggest walking across the street and grabbing a beer at a bar. He looks at me like I have two heads and says, "I don't drink. At all. I don't like the taste of alcohol. I don't even like hanging out in a bar atmosphere having nothing but iced tea to drink." Seriously. I don't want to date another <em>Bud</em> but I do want to be able to go out for drinks with my friends or do other social drinking activities with the guy I end up dating. Now it's my turn to look at him like he grew another head. "It's cold, wet, and almost dark. What else do you suggest we do?" He just looks at me and goes "Well I guess we'll call it a night and do something later." He walks me to my car and I thank him for dinner. He opens his arms and is like "How about a hug?" Fine. If that is what it takes to make you go away I'll do it. So I give him a hug and I feel him pulling away slightly. I think to myself "Oh hell no. He had better not be moving in for a kiss." Crap. What am I supposed to do. I am pinned between him and my car. I move my head as far back as it will go hoping he will feel me pulling away and stop. No such luck. He actually puckers his lips. It's like a scene from a bad movie. He plants one on me, opens his eyes, and smiles. I jump into my car and tell him goodbye. I wait until he walks away and wipe my lips off with the back of my hand. I slather on all the chap stick I can manage and pull out of my spot. I give a half-hearted wave as I leave the parking lot. I'm surprised that my tires didn't squeal. I don't call, text, email him so I think he got the hint. A few days later I'm sitting on the bus when this older man who looks EXACTLY like <em>Lester</em> sits down across from me. It takes everything I have and then some to contain myself. I buried my nose in my book and couldn't stop giggling to myself the entire ride. I have since been riding the bus at a different time.<br /><br />I don't kiss on first dates. Well that isn't always true, but those aren't really dates so much as me having had one to many drinks during a night out. :) People I meet from Internet dating are essentially strangers to me. I don't care how many times we've talked, it isn't the same as meeting in person.Whatever Jerkfacehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15190369641768327715noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3429650860396286325.post-47677796539517050002008-04-18T15:35:00.002-04:002008-04-18T16:10:11.100-04:00Dating. Ur doin it wrong.Here we go again.<br /><br />At this point <em>Pretty Pretty</em> and I have only spoken and seen each other once in person (the night we met) and have been having a textual relationship thus far. I don't mind texting, really. But I do like having real conversations with people and even seeing them from time to time. <em>PP</em> says that he wants to do something for real and when I tell him to pick a day I don't hear from him from two again. Whatever.<br /><br />So <em>PP</em> finally got back to me and we made plans for last Tuesday night. I picked the day and the time, the least he could do is pick a place right? I think that should be easy, even for a meat head like him. Boy was I wrong. I waited all day to hear from him on a place to meet. I kinda knew that this was going to happen so I had made other plans just in case. Glad that I did. So Wednesday rolls around and I get yet another text from <em>PP</em> asking me what happened to Tuesday night. Seriously? All you had to do was pick a place. That's it. I'm starting to get really angry and I want to tell him to lose my number when he plans yet another date for Thursday night.<br /><br />ARGH! This kid is stupid. You have not bothered to make solid plans once yet. Why should I expect anything different this time. But I tell him sure. My favorite quote right now is "I don't love you. I'm just passing the time." This fits great with my current dating attitude. So we make plans for last Thursday night and of course I make back up plans. I know that I'm going to need them. I know this guys MO now. He will not catch me by surprise. Once again I get blown off. No message, nothing. Whatever jerkface. I'm so done. I delete his number and make my plans for the weekend.<br /><br />So Friday night I'm out with my sister and her boyfriend when I get a call from a Florida area code. WTF? I know of one person with a FL area code and if he is even calling me then he has got some chutzpah. I answer the phone and say hello. It's kinda loud and I can't hear anything on the other end. After 15 seconds I hang up. They never call back and I forget about it.<br /><br />This morning I wake up and look at my phone. One new text. I open it up and just start laughing. It's from <em>Pretty Pretty</em>. His name didn't show up (like I said I deleted his number) but who else would say to me "what up babe been a minute...i just got back from florida"? No shit it's been a minute. It's been a whole bunch of them. Then it dawned on me that he quite possible could have been the one calling me from FL. I'm really glad that I am able to have such a great sense of humor about this. I know that it might possibly drive someone else crazy.Whatever Jerkfacehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15190369641768327715noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3429650860396286325.post-48192220638273212732008-04-01T12:08:00.007-04:002008-04-01T13:56:15.440-04:00You smell kinda pretty. Wanna smell me?So I met a guy Friday night that has less game than Johnny Bravo. For those of you that don't remember the show or didn't even know it existed that's some pretty bad game.<br /><br />It's Friday night, I'm out with friends and I've been drinking. I end up making best friends with the DJ. I get him to play every song that my group requests. I dance with people I know and don't know out on the dance floor and have a blast. Towards the end of the night I decide that I am going to make friends with the three single guys sitting at the bar. This is where the fun starts. I would stand there and talk to said boys for 5-10 minutes and then go back to my friends and complain about what big losers they were. Laugh it up and go right back for some more punishment.<br /><br />There was one in particular that I befriended and we'll call him <em>Pretty Pretty</em>. Now why you ask did I choose to dub him <em>Pretty Pretty</em>? Because of a text message that I ended up sending him after we left the bar (which I'll get to later). Apparantly I got all three of their numbers and at first thought that I had given out one of my besties number in return (didn't happen, sigh of relief). Anyways <em>PP</em> starts texting me as soon as we leave the bar. I get all kinds of the same message. "Ur so hot" "Ur so cute" This of course is starting to inflate my head just a bit and my less than sober self is debating how best to respond. I end up sending this little gem, "Thank you. You're pretty pretty yourself." I read this the next morning and wanted to die! "You're pretty pretty yourself." Seriously? OMG. Now I'm never going to hear from <em>PP</em> again.<br /><br />Turns out that <em>PP</em> doesn't mind me telling him that he is pretty. I get a whole bunch of messages asking when we are going to see each other for real and he keeps telling me how hot I am. My favorite message from him has to be "yeah right...as if u dnt hear this often...u know u r hot...get over it" Seriously. I don't hear it all the time. I especially don't hear it often enough for me to not to have just a little ego boost. He sends me a picture just in case I didn't remember what he looked like. Boy is ripped. In the pics that he sent me it almost looks like he has bigger pecs than I do (hard to believe). ;)<br /><br />It's now Tuesday and he is still bugging me about going out for real. I told him that most nights are good for me after I'm done at the gym and he still hasn't gotten the hint. All he has to do is say "Let's go out <em>x</em> night and do <em>x</em>." Be decisive, make a decision, and when you do let me in on it.Whatever Jerkfacehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15190369641768327715noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3429650860396286325.post-65981988339815953722008-02-27T09:32:00.025-05:002008-02-27T11:04:54.235-05:00Rollin with my gnomiesI love internet dating. Some people really abhor it but I can't understand why. I may or may not meet the man of my dreams online. I'm not worried. If nothing else it makes for great laughs with my friends and family.<br /><br />So I get on to check my email and I have a new message from the dating site that I am using.<br /><br />"My name is <em>Gnomie</em>. I am X years old. I am attractive, <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiRAwdTmC4fCNqOJourhN_djrc089WA3iShbAeeasA-XdFLgFGb4E3gnaFkEzPEDiVZndxNIcaGzsE6Mf5lANcRAh9Ks00Ji6-56T9EA6Kdp1O4AwBHB1M7XIUASMK0S4ve9PQy9td0bu0/s1600-h/vintage_gnomes.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5171673774769817362" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 90px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 165px" height="186" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiRAwdTmC4fCNqOJourhN_djrc089WA3iShbAeeasA-XdFLgFGb4E3gnaFkEzPEDiVZndxNIcaGzsE6Mf5lANcRAh9Ks00Ji6-56T9EA6Kdp1O4AwBHB1M7XIUASMK0S4ve9PQy9td0bu0/s200/vintage_gnomes.jpg" width="79" border="0" /></a>funny, and outgoing. Hey I couldn't upload more than 3 pics because you took up all the space. I was looking at your photos and you like the pittsburgh steelers. I don't care but why do you like the steelers? I noticed you liked doing guy things such as football, baseball basketball, hockey, and shooting pool. Are you sure you are not a guy in disguise? You are on here to meet someone and so am I. Email me back and we will see where it goes from there.<br /><em>Gnomie"</em><br /><br />WTF?! You insulted me thru that entire message. First with how many pictures I had up. Then with my choice of sports teams. Then with some of the things I like. I guess you didn't read the part where I talked about the girly stuff that I liked. Seriously. His profile is even better.<br /><div><div><div></div><br /><div>"I have a confession to make. I am such a typical sports guy that i actually get on my jersey. When I watch the game I hold the ball in my lap. If we end up together please schedule spa visits, shoe shopping, or male bashing with girlfriends during important tv sporting events. It will make both of our lives better. No crazy women please." <div><div><div></div><br />This week isn't a good week for me. There is a lot going on and I am feeling a little bitchy. I was telling one of my girl friends about <em>Gnomie </em>and how I wanted to reply with something. She came up with this: </div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcf8NELanqmWVB2ZG7U-6DuijGrB3T2_vuUWT7rVSO1R4Id1pmfLuHtbw2lkS-NjvS6wxA1DvVPkkYYjvTZ96bYrcG62HYtPfrAsEIPq6o7EdohAnLw3yKgo7j1LQMhWdGXscOTGHUno2K/s1600-h/walnut+gnome.jpg"></a></div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcf8NELanqmWVB2ZG7U-6DuijGrB3T2_vuUWT7rVSO1R4Id1pmfLuHtbw2lkS-NjvS6wxA1DvVPkkYYjvTZ96bYrcG62HYtPfrAsEIPq6o7EdohAnLw3yKgo7j1LQMhWdGXscOTGHUno2K/s1600-h/walnut+gnome.jpg"></a></div><div><div><div><div></div><br />Dear <em>Gnomie</em>, <div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcf8NELanqmWVB2ZG7U-6DuijGrB3T2_vuUWT7rVSO1R4Id1pmfLuHtbw2lkS-NjvS6wxA1DvVPkkYYjvTZ96bYrcG62HYtPfrAsEIPq6o7EdohAnLw3yKgo7j1LQMhWdGXscOTGHUno2K/s1600-h/walnut+gnome.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5171675518526539554" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 121px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px" height="141" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcf8NELanqmWVB2ZG7U-6DuijGrB3T2_vuUWT7rVSO1R4Id1pmfLuHtbw2lkS-NjvS6wxA1DvVPkkYYjvTZ96bYrcG62HYtPfrAsEIPq6o7EdohAnLw3yKgo7j1LQMhWdGXscOTGHUno2K/s200/walnut+gnome.jpg" width="101" border="0" /></a></div><div>I was going to ingore this but I thought that I would offer you some friendly </div><div><div>advice. You are never going to get a girl, or at least one worth a damn if you </div><div>talk to them like that. You are presumptous and rude. Not all girls feel the need to go shoe shopping and go to the spa. I would rather sit there and cheer for my team. And as for the Steelers, I do not care if you care or not who I root for. I have a lot of pride in my hometown team, not something a lot of people can say about the Bengals. And really...a ball in your lap? Why? That is just weird. You are definitly not half as cool as you think you are. Good luck meeting someone, you are going to need it." <div><div><div></div><br />I will, of course, send something a little nicer and shorter. I don't think that even I could be that mean. But seriously. What is wrong with the men in the Cincinnati area!?<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcf8NELanqmWVB2ZG7U-6DuijGrB3T2_vuUWT7rVSO1R4Id1pmfLuHtbw2lkS-NjvS6wxA1DvVPkkYYjvTZ96bYrcG62HYtPfrAsEIPq6o7EdohAnLw3yKgo7j1LQMhWdGXscOTGHUno2K/s1600-h/walnut+gnome.jpg"></a></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>Whatever Jerkfacehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15190369641768327715noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3429650860396286325.post-20824744205389361522008-02-20T14:22:00.007-05:002008-02-27T09:32:21.977-05:00Rockin' out with your (insert 4 letter word that rhymes with rock that makes you think of a rooster) outSo this happened about a week ago or so but I have been laughing so hard that I couldn't type until now.<br /><br />I meet yet another <strike>victim</strike> guy using an online dating site. He is cute, tall, seems to like a lot of the same things that I like, and is the definition of a good old boy. Our conversations (on his end) are peppered with words like gal, fellar, ya'll and darlin. It's kind of endearing but every time I heard one of these words it would make me giggle to myself. Oh by the way since he was a good old boy and needed a nickname he was dubbed <em>Freebird</em>; which becomes more and more appropriate the longer we talk.<br /><br />So right off the bat he tells me that he is going to be honest with me. All I can think is Lord, what now? Every time someone tells me they want to be honest with me they tell me something creepy. So he starts talking about this girl that he met online who is being all crazy and stalking him and about jumped his bones the first time they met. Nice. I care because why? That's right I don't. He isn't interested in her so <em>Freebird</em> asks me how to get rid of her. I tell him to tell her that she isn't right for him as a girlfriend and she would be better off just accepting the fact that they could be friends but nothing more.<br /><br />So we continue to talk some more; both on the phone and through text messages. He opens up right away about his life. He has had some hard times and some bitchy ex's let me tell you. His friend died last year and his gf at the time told him to get over it (cold). He made some stupid mistakes and lost his job at a guitar store (he plays and gives lessons) and wrecked his car. I'm feeling really sorry for the kid and kind of thinking that maybe we would be better off as friends because of all his baggage. He really seemed like a nice guy. At this point we had made a date for Thursday night. On Wednesday he told me the story that clinched the deal.<br /><br /><em>Freebird</em> had been out drinking and drove himself home (aren't there any non-heavy drinkers out there that want to date me?). He admits it was a stupid mistake. Even dumber that he crashed his Camaro and left it in the ditch and walked the rest of the way home to sleep it off. Well an abandoned car in a ditch attracts cops like flies to sugar. The popo run the plates and show up at <em>Freebird's</em> house where he is roused from bed by his parents to go meet the cops outside. He is in nothing but his pj’s (which is a pair of boxers) when he goes out to meet them. He walks outside and the cops take one look at him and go "Excuse me, Mr. <em>Freebird</em>, we are going to need you to put that away." I start laughing so hard at this point in the story that I am crying. Seriously. Wouldn't you think to check to make sure that your junk is where it is supposed to be before talking to the cops? He goes on to tell me that his license is suspended now because of the whole incident and that I would have to come pick him up the next day for our date. I don't think so.<br /><br />So it's now date day and I am stressing. I'm trying to figure out a nice way to tell <em>Freebird</em> that I can't go out with him anymore because I'm getting away from dating losers. I ask everyone's opinion and come up with a semi-true, quasi-safe answer. That I think it would be better that we just be friends. And in case he still wanted to go out after that that I was working late that night due to an error that was found at the last minute. He tells me ok and that’s the last I hear from him that day. At this point I don’t even want to be friends with him. To be my friend you have to have a car and a license. It’s a new rule of mine that I’ve had for the past few years now.<br /><br />A few days later I’m sitting at home and get a text message from <em>Freebird</em> saying “gal, you ought to let a fellar take you out to dinner.” I delete it. Two days later I get another text that is along the same lines as the last one. Seriously? Didn’t you get the hint? I don’t want to talk to you. I know it was lame of me to not answer but I didn’t want to string him along anymore than I think I already did.Whatever Jerkfacehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15190369641768327715noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3429650860396286325.post-51146184157255742242008-02-01T09:37:00.000-05:002008-02-01T15:04:00.410-05:00And the SAG Award goes to...So earlier this week I am out to dinner with a friend and on my way home my phone starts beeping. It's a text message from none other than, drum roll please, <em>Jason Bateman. </em>You have got to be kidding me. He stood me up last week. It's almost a full week later and now he has the audicity to talk to me? Here is the conversation that ensued.<br /><br /><em>JB</em>: How r u darling?<br />Me: so what happened last week?<br /><em>JB</em>: What r u talking about? Not sure that was meant 4 me<br /><br />He called me darling. I hate that. So now I think that he has me confused with someone else. There is no way he is this stupid. He blew me off and is acting like nothing ever happened.<br /><br />Me: Who is this?<br /><em>JB</em>: Excuse me? Um, <em>Jason Bateman</em><br />Me: We were supposed to go out to dinner last tuesday but you never called and said where we were going.<br /><em>JB</em>: Ok, learn who u r talking to, ok?<br /><br />Seriously. Don't take an attitude with me. I didn't do anything wrong. I'm thinking that I'm going to be done talking to him now but do it in the nicest way possible.<br /><br />Me: I think you have the wrong number. Sorry. :)<br /><em>JB</em>: Ur rite, my bad, Cincy<br />Me: Look. I called and texted you last week to find out where we were supposed to meet at 730 for dinner on tuesday and you never got back to me. Check your voicemail.<br /><br />I'm sorry if you were busy with the Sundance Film Festival and the SAG Awards but call a girl back. Or don't make plans at all. I will mention briefly that I dropped <em>Harley's</em> movie off at his place of employment before he got in so I didn't have to see him and so that he stopped texting me. (It's not that I can't be in the same place as him at all. I can be. But it's going to be mighty hard not to kick him in his shins.) He actually texted me and asked how I was doing and if I was dating. Sure I am. His name is Noneya. Noneya Business. I've just been ignoring his messages.<br /><blockquote></blockquote><blockquote></blockquote><blockquote></blockquote><blockquote></blockquote>We are not friends, nor will we ever be friends again. Friends don't leave friends inebriated at the bar when they have promised to be your ride home. Ass Hat.Whatever Jerkfacehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15190369641768327715noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3429650860396286325.post-27723298631153915042008-01-25T09:08:00.000-05:002008-01-25T09:51:51.654-05:00I love it when you call me Big Pop-paSo this morning I stopped at the Starbucks in the Kroger by my house on my way to work. I order and am standing off to the side when two men come and get into line. One is younger, late 20's/early 30's, and the other guy is older. If I had to guess I would say mid 40's. Well the older guy comes over to me and strikes up a conversation; asking me why there are no samples out. I laugh and tell him I don't know. So we start talking about the different Starbucks in the area and he said he just came from the one a few miles away. I start laughing and ask him if he was really hitting up two in one morning. He smiles and says yep. <em>Big Pop-pa</em> then proceeds to knuckle pound me. Seriously. My coffee is taking forever to make and he talks to me the entire time. It was sweet and made me giggle.<br /><br />So last night. I was going out to dinner with a bunch of women that I am friends with. We all meet up once a month; it's great fun. This month the eatery just happened to be the place where <em>Harley</em> works. I know the way that the universe works and just knew that he would be there. I make sure that I look super cute. Not only is he there but he is our server. What have I done to deserve this? Nothing. I'm an adult and I can handle this but talk about awkward.<br /><br />The ladies that I'm out with all know about him. They engage me in conversation every time he comes to the table. Asking about guys that I'm seeing, talking to, etc. It's quite funny. Every time that <em>Harley</em> walks by he stares at me and smiles. I of course ignore him but the women around me notice it. They get real defensive and say that he had two chances and blew them and if he was smart he wouldn't be acting like a 3rd grader with a crush around me. He was jumping up and hitting the lights as he walked by. "Ooh look at me. I'm a big strong man. I can jump and hit the lights that are hanging from the ceiling." Seriously. The two ladies sitting closest to me wanted to pull him aside and tell him he was acting like a fool. Moms (going out with these women make me feel like I have 13 of them, it's great). Gotta love them. Whatever.<br /><br />I didn't talk to him except for when it was necessary but I wasn't mean. I was super polite. I even made sure that no one stiffed him on a tip. I didn't want to be that bitch. So we agree on where we are going to meet next month, and everyone leaves. I'm sitting at home later and my phone starts beeping. Guess who I just got a text from. Yep. I can't believe it. I haven't heard from him in weeks (not that I've wanted to) and just because I wasn't mean to him he thinks it's okay to talk to me. I don't think so. He asks for his movie back. I don't respond. He sends me another text later saying that by not responding he guesses that the answer is no. No fool. You will get your movie back but I don't have to talk to you to do it. I know you work on Thursdays now. Next Thursday I will run by the restaurant and drop it off with a note to make sure he gets it. This will of course be done before he gets to work. I have nothing else to say to him.<br /><br />Boys are dumb. Hopefully the ones I've gone out with thus far aren't a good representation of the general population. Is there something tattooed across my forehead that I'm not seeing? And does anyone know where I can get it removed at?Whatever Jerkfacehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15190369641768327715noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3429650860396286325.post-86561842734108238002008-01-24T12:20:00.001-05:002008-02-27T09:29:37.257-05:00McLuvinSo there is no way I'm going out with this guy but I couldn't help myself from sharing him with the rest of you.<br /><br />So I'm online talking to one of my girl friends when I get a message asking if I wanted to accept a message from <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"><em>McLuvin</em></span> (there are more letters and numbers in there but out of concern for his privacy I have left them out). I'm thinking, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">okay. </span><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">WTF</span>? So I accept it and find out it is one of the guys from an online dating site that I haven't talked to in over a week. He's persistent. Okay. Fine.<br /><br />He actually asked me if his screen name was corny. Oh course it is fool, (only a 12 year old boy would pick that as a screen name) but I tell him I think it is funny, which it is. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"><em>McLuvin</em></span> proceeds to tell me that I'm the only person he has talked to so far. How sweet. An Internet dating virgin. Poor kid. Is he in for some rude awakenings or what? I remember my first time....but that is a story for another day.<br /><br />Okay. So we are chatting and he seems sweet until I learn that he has stalker like tendencies. He swears up and down that he has seen me before in at least one of the places that I frequent. I tell him he must be mistaken. He says that I'm wrong and that he knows he has seen me around town before. I tell <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"><em>McLuvin</em></span> I'm pretty good with faces and that I don't ever remember seeing him before.<br /><br />He finally lets that go and tells me he has something he wants to be up front about. I'm scared at this point. I have a very over active imagination and there are all kinds of scenarios running <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">thru</span> my head. He's gotten two <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">DUI's</span> within the past two years. Okay fine. Everyone makes mistakes and it can really happen to anyone. Then he goes on to say that he won't go out anymore unless he has a DD lined up for the night or knows that someone will come and get him. I ask him if he ever just goes out for a drink and stops at one or two. Can you guess what his answer is? He answers no. End of conversation.<br /><br />Not going down that path again. That's one of those mistakes that I've actually learned from and don't wish to repeat. Now all I have to do is let him down gently. I'm not very good at letting people down gently. Does a member of the A-Team (you know which one you are) want to take a crack at this for me?Whatever Jerkfacehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15190369641768327715noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3429650860396286325.post-84591258755810899322008-01-22T19:29:00.002-05:002008-02-27T09:28:47.903-05:00Jason Bateman<span style="font-family:arial;">So it starts on Jan 16<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">th</span>. I get a message from a guy online that my friends think looks like Jason <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Bateman</span>. That of course isn't his real name so let's just call him <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"><em>JB</em></span> for the time being. </span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">He seems sweet. Tall, good looking, called me cutie twice in one email. Why do men like to call women cutie? As far as pet names go, that is one of my least favorites. He gives me his number and real email address. OK cool. I send him an email back from my real email address and give him my cell number. </span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"><em>JB</em></span> sends me a text right away. We banter back and forth and he calls me later that night. I like him so far. Thursday I have to babysit and he thinks its great that I am good with kids. We talk after the kids go to bed. He is a die hard Bengals fan and is mean to me. I am from Pittsburgh so you can only imagine where this is going. Whatever. Other than that we had a great conversation. I complain to one of my girl friends and she states this is the third grade equivalent of throwing stuff at you. It means he likes you. </span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">We talk all weekend and agree to meet for dinner on Tuesday. He tells me that he wants to take me out on a dinner date. Awesome. So it's Monday afternoon and I haven't heard from him since Sunday night. I send <em>JB</em> a text asking him if we are still on. He replies with a hardy you bet we are and asks me what kind of food I like and what part of town I live in again. I tell him I'll eat just about anything, not super fond of Indian food, and I tell him again what part of town I live in. We agree on a time, 7:30 pm, but still haven't picked a place yet. </span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">It's now Tuesday. Date day. I don't hear from <em>JB</em> all day. At quarter till 5 I send him a message asking him if he was going to tell me where we were going for dinner or did I have to guess. Nothing. At 5:40 I call and leave him a voice mail. Still nothing. Whatever <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Jerkface</span>. I ended up grabbing Outback with my mom and a girl friend. All in all I had a much better night. I was able to eat exactly what I wanted and do it while watching TV in my sweats.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">I was hoping that he would call so that I could ignore his lame excuses for what hadn't happened but oh well. Once again I get to experience the sweet satisfaction I get out of deleting a number from my cell phone. I don't understand men; I don't want to. I'm pretty sure I'm happier not knowing. </span>Whatever Jerkfacehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15190369641768327715noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3429650860396286325.post-19970235132467186622008-01-10T16:09:00.000-05:002008-01-11T13:58:34.899-05:00A look at last year Part III (Wrapping it up)It's now the weekend past Thanksgiving. I've been out on a few first dates but nothing more. Not one guy I've gone out with has really grabbed my attention. That's quite alright. I'm not about to settle.<br /><br />You will never guess who I hear from... yep that's right, <em>Harley</em>. I was super surprised and not to say a little stunned. Especially when I get texts from him that read "Just wanted to say happy belated thanksgiving". So I ask who it is as I don't recognize the number. I get this reply, "<em>Harley</em> you probably deleted my number I also wanted to say I am sorry for how things went." I'm thinking okay. He shoots another one off, "I also realized just how big a mistake I made and wanted to apologize to you, and see if we still could be friends?" Sure why not. We really only hung out a week before you went and were a jerkface. So I tell him this (without the jerkface part) and proceed to ask him how his Thanksgiving went. He goes, "My weekend sucks because I am beginning to think I made a mistake, a mistake which screwed up 5 months." Seriously. I couldn't make this crap up if I tried. "Do you think there would be any chance to get back to what we had or is it done and over?" (Yes I have these gems word for word. This kind of poetry doesn't fall into your lap everyday. I made sure to email these to myself for a good laugh at a later date. <strong>LATER DATE</strong>.)<br /><br />I'm not usually one for second chances but what the hell. He passed the bullshit meter of one of my besties the first time. She was super stunned when he turned out to be a jerk in July. I liked him. <em>Harley</em> is good looking, pretty smart, and has a lot of things that I'm looking for in a man. So he is calling/texting me everyday. He comes over a few times that week and then exams start. I don't hear from him for an entire week. Whatever Jerkface. I delete his number and plan to move on. During this time I meet, let us call him <em>Canada, </em>online. Yes I do the online dating. I've tried just about every medium there is for dating at least once. Hell. I did online dating before online dating was popular. Call me a pioneer.<br /><br /><em>Canada</em> and I have great phone conversations. He seems pretty cute. So we decide to meet in person a week after initially meeting. First meeting goes well. He is a little shorter than I usually like my men to be but I'm hoping that I can deal with this. Guess who pops back into my life this same day? Go on guess. Drum roll please. <em>Harley. </em>With some lame ass excuse that I of course buy. So now I am talking to two guys who are both leaving to go on their respective vacations from the middle of December to the New Year.<br /><br />During the two weeks that they are gone I hear from both of them. Awesome. Then it happens again. <em>Canada </em>gets back from his vacation and I get a weird, kinda lame, generic message from him. He was my facebook friend so I go and check out his page. In a relationship. WTF? What is wrong with these men that don't have the guts to tell you straight up. So I delete his number and ignore all of his requests for communication. I don't need an explanation. You were too short for me anyways.<br /><br />This leaves me all alone with <em>Harley</em>. He surprises me on New Years Eve by being back a few days early to work so I go up and see him at work. He knew that my friends and I weren't going to pay the cover to get in for the NYE party so he wanted to wait until it all died down before he called. He gets off work and we hang out at his place until 5am. He comes over Wednesday night for dinner and movies. I think that things are going pretty good. Friday night before he goes to work he drops off a movie that my mom and sister mentioned that they wanted to watch. How sweet is that?<br /><br />My friends and I go out to said restaurant that <em>Harley</em> works at for drinks. Two of our group are leaving on Saturday morning so we wanted one last hurrah together. I ask <em>Harley </em>if he would mind being my ride home. He says sure. We don't sit in his section because he is working and I don't want to bother him. I get nice and toasted and at 2am go to look for him so that he can take me home or we can hang out for a little or whatever. HE IS GONE. I call him a handful of times and only leave one message. He never answers. Saturday I call him and tell him I was drunk and sorry if I sounded bitchy the night before, I didn't mean to. And I ask him what happened that he left without telling me. (He was my ride.) I don't hear back from him. I don't hear from him until Monday night. I had sent a text asking him if we were still talking because I had been getting mixed signals from him and I was super confused. He sends "With all said and done I don't know." Excuse me? What has been said and done? I'm super confused and at this point super done. Whatever Jerkface! He gets deleted from my phone and my life.<br /><br />My life is not a game of baseball. There is no three strikes and you are out rule. I give one chance and if you blow it that's it. I've saved myself a lot of heartache over the years sticking to that. I don't know what made me change my mind for <em>Harley</em> but I won't do it again. I don't like making the same mistakes over and over again. I like making new ones and learning from them (or at least pretending to learn from them). That way I can pass on my knowledge to others.Whatever Jerkfacehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15190369641768327715noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3429650860396286325.post-72131404542385444302008-01-10T07:26:00.000-05:002008-01-11T14:00:35.750-05:00A look at last year Part IIJuly rolls around and in this round about way I'm introduced to this guy that works with a friend of mine. He's cute. I'm single. I give him my number on Thursday. He calls and we set something up for Friday. I'll just refer to him as <em>Bud</em>.<br /><br /><em>Bud </em>and I meet at Outback and have a great dinner. I don't want the night to end just yet so I invite him out with my girl friends and I for drinks. He imbibes, I don't. Someone has to drive right? We have a blast. He tells me in the car on the way back to his car that my friends aren't like typical girls and that we all rock. Awesome.<br /><br />I guess you could say that <em>Bud </em>and I start dating. We spend a whole bunch of time together. I meet his friends. He comes to a party at my house. We hit the month mark. I start spending Saturday nights at his house. This is when the trouble starts. Never mind a friend of his has moved in with him and is the roommate from hell. <em>Bud </em>is a drinker. Serious drinker. I learn that he has to have a beer as soon as he wakes up in the morning. Drinks until he goes to work. Gets off work and drinks until he passes out. Not cool. I hide this all from my friends and family who of course already know (they are some smart ladies, let me tell you).<br /><br />October rolls around and I can't take it anymore. I'm miserable. I have developed a smokers cough from being around all the second hand smoke. (<em>Bud </em>also smoked. Huge turn-off for me. What was I thinking?) Things end. I won't go into the details.<br /><br />Dating an alcoholic is never fun. Dating someone who doesn't realize that they are an alcoholic is even worse. Drinking more than 12 beers in a 24-hour-period is not normal, and is not healthy. Drinking from the minute you get up until the minute you pass out is never a good sign. I was being bad. <em>Bud </em>was a huge ego boost for me. Looking back I don't know how I could have thought that at the time but oh well. We all learn from our mistakes right?Whatever Jerkfacehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15190369641768327715noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3429650860396286325.post-66033451834702106592008-01-09T15:35:00.000-05:002008-01-11T13:55:18.707-05:00A look at last year Part ISo 2007 was a bit of a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">crapshoot</span> when it came to dating. Not to say that I didn't date but nothing went over too well.<br /><br />First let's take a look at June and meeting <em>Harley</em>.<br /><em>Harley</em> was/is a bartender/server at one of the local restaurants here in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Cincy</span>. It was a Friday night and I didn't really want to go out but was forced to by a friend of mine. Boy am I glad I did. I meet <em>Harley</em>, he gets us good and toasted, and I give him my number. He calls me that night (granted it was like 2am but still) and we set up a date for the next day. He picks me up on his Harley. That's right kids, a Harley. I am a sucker for bikes. They make me hot. I want to be a bike bitch so bad but back to my story. He picks me up at noon and we cruise, grab lunch and ice cream, and get back to my house at 4. Mom and neighbor are outside pretending to wash said neighbors car just to be there when I got home. Nosy bitches, but I love them.<br /><br />So for the next week <em>Harley</em> is at my house everyday. Calling/<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">texting</span> when he isn't there. The only thing that sucks is he is leaving for vacation and will be gone for a week. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Whatev</span>. I can deal. He leaves and I hear from him a few times. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Ok</span>. He's on vacation. Just because he said he would talk to me everyday doesn't mean that he has to. The weekend before he is due to come home I get this sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. Something isn't right. Everyone is telling me not to worry but I feel otherwise.<br /><br />Monday morning, two weeks after meeting, <em>Harley</em> is home and I still haven't heard from him. Weird. So I check his <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">myspace page</span>. "In a relationship" <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">WTF</span>? With who? It sure as heck isn't me. So I send him a text and learn that he got together with a girl who lives in/around the same city as his mother in GA. You have got to be kidding me. Thanks for nothing myspace. Oh well. It was only two wasted weeks. I wasn't about to waste my time being angry so I deleted his number and moved on.Whatever Jerkfacehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15190369641768327715noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3429650860396286325.post-60638615729543132822008-01-09T10:35:00.000-05:002008-01-09T11:00:31.933-05:00It's only just begun....<span style="font-family:arial;">I'll give everyone an update on my adventures in dating just as soon as I get a chance. I can promise that most posts will be entertaining because life is never dull when you are out on the prowl...</span>Whatever Jerkfacehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15190369641768327715noreply@blogger.com0