Finding the One and starting a family isn’t going to make you happy. It’s not going to give you the stability you crave because you didn’t have it growing up. You have to find it within yourself, first. You have to do it on your own. You have to love yourself before you give that love to someone else…If you want it to last.
Michael’s Holiday blues are getting me down amongst other things. I introduced him to my girl friend a few weeks ago and all he does is talk about how hot she is. I finally ask him if he would fuck her. I don’t know why I ask but my insecurities are up to no good. He hesitates for a moment and then says: “Yes.” I casually ask: “Do I have anything to worry about?” He says: “No.”
Well, that did not go over as I thought. Hmmm… My friend Jessica says she will never hurt me and has no desire to go after Michael, but that doesn’t solve my jealousy. I remember a line once: “If you can’t handle the truth, don’t go looking for it.” I should have never asked him that question.
But the truth is out. Wow! They are now friends who, call each other and hang out together without me. Does that bother me? Hell yeah! I’m a Scorpio who has a jealous streak when I’m insecure. And now, I’m insecure.
One thing after another and I’m about to lose it. I try to remain calm. Leaving me at the gym’s party weighs heavily on my mind as well as him wanting to fuck her. Even though I forgave him, I haven’t forgotten the feeling of abandonment by the one I care about.
A week later, Jessica and I are going to the Town Holiday Stroll and I invite Michael. We drink a large bottle of Champagne at his house before heading out. We are feeling good yet something is bothering me-insecurities. We walk around town and then head into a bar. I tell them I’m going to check things out and I’ll be right back. I walk about 20 feet then turn around and they’re gone. I look in the bar area but don’t see them. I then go outside and look up and down the street. I’m about to text them when I realize that I don’t have my phone and we don’t have an If you get lost situation. Ugh!
He left me again! They couldn’t even wait 30 seconds for me to come back? I’m psst. I walk back to Michael’s. I’m cold, drunk, and tired. I try the backdoor but it’s locked. My jealousy raises its ugly head. All I can think is that they are cozied up together at a bar somewhere without me.
I’m beyond mad. I’m irrational and now I’m in the midst of a full blown anxiety attack. I’m so angry that I want to throw something. I see his trash and I tear the bags open and throw them everywhere on his back porch.
I know it’s wrong but I can’t help myself. There’s some pillows on the floor and I lie down in the fetal position to keep warm. Jessica is a White Light, a Medium. Why doesn’t she know where I am and what I’m feeling? Why don’t they come back to his house? I came back why couldn’t they?
After what seemed like hours I finally peel myself off the floor. I don’t know what time it is but it’s late and I walk back into town. Finally I see them walking towards me, laughing. Michael says; “There you are!” Being cool is not my forte and I rip into them. I yell at the top of my lungs accusing them of sleeping together. I call her a Cunt and swear at him for leaving me again.
I then turn around and run back to his house and wait for them to come home and I yell at them some more for leaving me. Jessica storms out as I grab my keys and I jump into my car. As I turn the corner I realize that I left my phone at his house so I force myself to turn around. We have another fight and he says: “I’m so mad at you for embarrassing me”.
I yell back: “WTF! You couldn’t even wait one minute for me? What is so wrong for waiting for me?”
He just looks at me and says: “You’re a lot like me.” I glare at him. Our second fight and it’s not even a month that we are together. His careless attitude makes me cringe. I realize he’s right we are very alike, we both have anger issues. He tells me to stay. My rage dissipates and I turn into this little girl that just wants to be held.
We talk in a civilized tone. I apologize and clean up the mess I made. I end up staying the night and we have make up sex. Lying in bed, I ask him what he’s looking for and he says a family, he wants to have children. A bipolar with father issues wanting children when he can’t stand them? Hmmm…I don’t want children. All I want is to be loved by someone I love.
At 6am I awake. I can’t breath and I need to leave. I get up, put on my clothes, kiss him goodbye as he sleeps and quietly leave. He texts me later: “Wow u really did cause some mayhem by the back door last night. Weird thing is I still wanted to wake up and have sex but u were gone.” I reply back: “It’s the Scorpio in me. I did clean it up. I kissed you goodbye.”
We are in different places. We have no future…Just the present if we can get through the Holidays.
If you want to see the Scorpio come out in me just lie to me. Everything you said to me – was that just a lie? Trust is earned it’s not given…Lessons learned…
PS. It takes me a while to let go of the pain…I will eventually get back to the even keel. I will get there. What you call weird is just me lashing out because I allowed you in and I allowed myself to get hurt…
The art of french kissing: If I’m sexually attracted to you I will want to kiss you and the kiss is the tell-tale sign of things to come…A great french kiss does not involve lots of saliva (no dogs drooling at the table) nor does it involve the limp tongue (dead fish) nor does it involve face sucking. It’s an art that is learned. It’s very sensual and arouses the senses.
“The Kiss” I take your hand and lead you to the dance floor, wrapping my arms around you as you pull me close. “I want to kiss you all over” by Exile is playing in the background. With eyes closed I slowly make my way to your lips. My mouth touches yours. I wait patiently for you to let me in. Slowly, you open your mouth. My tongue cautiously enters, prodding, feeling its way into the darkness. Our tongues meet and become one; dancing, caressing…
What is it with fake profiles? Why do they seem to be so prevalent on online dating sites? Beautiful man checking out my profile. Of course I had to peek at his. Interesting, he’s a doctor with a PhD, black hair, brown eyes, a body to die for… Wait did he say he has brown eyes? Hold the fort. Let me go back to that picture. I swear he has green eyes. They look green. Hmmmm…..He says he’s looking for his last kiss. Is he dying?
Curious that I am I have to write to him. I write a seductive note:
Are you the man who knows how to use his tongue in all the right places? I believe it’s called French kissing.
A man who can go the distance and can pleasure a woman not just in words but in actions?
A man who is passionate inside and outside the bedroom?
The pleasure is all mine.
No response. I thought at least that would get his attention-he is a man or so I think he is. And as they say men have 2 emotions, hungry & horny. If you don’t see him with an erection make him a sandwich. I’m not sure who coined that phrase but I thought it was funny.
A few weeks later I see that he has changed his profile. He is now in sales/marketing with a high school diploma. Same pictures though & same interests. I have to write again. I can’t resist the urge to mock him.
You are too funny! Your old profile said that you were in the medical profession and had a PHD/Doctrate degree. You also said that you were into french kissing and you could have sex 3 to 4 times/night and you were looking for your last kiss…
Now your profession is sales and marketing and you have a high school degree. Your interests are the same and the picture is the same. But can the real….Please Stand up. You are looking for morals and honesty? WOW!!!!
I take it you were annoyed by all the women drooling over you due to your sex appeal and being a Doctor meant sugar daddy appeal to women.
“The best way to lie is to tell the truth, carefully edited truth.”
Okay now. This guy is a total loser. On top of it he can’t spell-apparently he doesn’t use a dictionary-probably doesn’t know what one is. I can’t help but badger him. It’s the wise ass in me that is compelled to do so. I write back.
A very popular online dating site is running commercials stating that 1 in 5 relationships start on their site. Hmmmm…. How do they really know that? Did they survey every single person on this planet aka Earth and ask how they met their significant other? Did they poll a number of people in the U.S? Did they poll only those on their site? I would like to know where they are getting their information? As we all know polls are statistics and can favor anything. They can be skewed to favor what they want us to believe. Are we all suckers?
Let’s break down what 1 in 5 really equals. If 5 is 100% then 1 is 20%. 20% of people polled said that their relationships started on this online dating site. However, 80% (over 3/4), met their significant other somewhere else. 80% is the majority. When you think about it-20% doesn’t sound that important. Anything over the majority would sound believable and could be taken seriously.
Why do they think we are ignorant? Are people watching to many reality shows? Are we in technology overload? Is this turning our fragile brains into strained carrots?
Who are they and how do they know? Are they more believable than you, me and I? Apparently they back up our stories, tales we weave. They lend credibility to what we are saying. They are our allies. They are our friends.
What is up with the Hynes Bridge detour signs in Amesbury/Newburyport? It should be called: Can’t get there from here. Whom ever put those signs up was having a little fun, at my expense. They were actually saying: I don’t want you to get where you are going which is right here so I am going to make it as complicated as possible for you to get there. I was so close but so far. :) Oh man! Have mercy on me now! LOL!!!
But apparently it didn’t matter because when one uses texting as a form of the only communication (men of a certain age under 56), lines get crossed and yada yada yada you know what happened with this story… What could have been a great, fun day turned out to be…NOT!!!…So boys & men if you are interested in me call me with your vocal chords…it’s very simple…When I call you to let you know that I’m on my way but have been detained due to a detour, call me back!!! My number shows up on your cell as missed call-voice mail. You know we have plans check the Gosh Darn phone! (I’m being polite for all those god fearing people out there).
Then I don’t have to wait around for hours at the place we are meeting (Not Your Average Joe’s in Newburyport, MA) thinking you blew me off. As steam or is it smoke? starts to come out of my ears and I’m getting very annoyed. Patience is not a virtue of mine. Have you figured that out yet?!
I’m thinking; “How dare you blow me off! You haven’t even met me yet, blow me off after you meet me!” So after a few drinks I start to rattle off nasty texts that I don’t mean because I’m mad at you. You get my point? Why is this so complicated? Life was so much easier before texting became the only form of communication.
I don’t want to be in a drama movie…LOL! I feel like Kramer: SERENITY NOW! UGH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I’ve been chatting via email, texting & sexting with Aaron aka TallSouthernBoy for over a month now. I have yet to converse with him via vocal chords. I find this unsettling because I always conjure up images in my head about the guy and how his voice resonates. And when I finally meet him my fantasies come crashing down. The human voice seals the deal. He could be the greatest guy but if his voice irritates my senses (finger nails on a black board) then I can’t get past that. My sensitive ears and soul oh my. I am rambling must get back to the date with Aaron.
He texted me and asked me if I wanted to meet him in Boston at a new hip restaurant. I agreed. Since he doesn’t have a car, I would drive into Cambridge and park at Alewife, take the Red Line to Park then the Green line to Copley. As the day approached I felt like a school girl getting ready for her first date.
My friend Chloe, a hair stylist gave me a great cut. Since Aaron’s favorite turn on is thigh high black nylons I went to Macy’s to get a few pairs (runs are common so one must get more than one for that just in case). I was meeting him at 7 pm and it was already 5 pm. Okay one more glance in the mirror-You look smashing-go get him.
Of course best laid plans always go off with a hitch. I breezed right into Cambridge but it became a parking lot a 1/4 mile from Alewife. It took me almost a half hour to park-I could have walked. Found a place to park and ran to the train. Apparently MBTA decided to make my life a little more complicated-No more people at the ticket counter-machines only. Ugh. I just want a token to get me on the damn train. Nope machine is being difficult. 10 more minutes pass. It’s close to 6:30. My phone is ringing-its Aaron I answer and I hear his voice for the first time. It’s soothing to the ears-phew. He just got to the restaurant and wanted to know my ETA. Hopefully 7 I hear myself saying as long as the trains behave.
Famous last words. I get on the RedLine and it stops for 10 minutes in the middle of nowhere. I finally get to the Green line and apparently I am on the wrong side of the tracks. I race to the other side (heels were not made for running the 100 yard dash) and get on the overcrowded sardine train.
Arriving to my destination at 7:15, I see Aaron sipping wine at a table. He looks around and sees me and smiles. He stands up yes he is quite tall 6’4″ could be a little taller due to the cowboy boots he is wearing. We size each-other up. He has gained about 40 pounds of fat (his pictures are of a sexy athletic man). He’s growing some kind of fuzzy beard. He reminds me of John Adams (the President). Okay. Maybe I can get past this-since he’s quite intelligent and sexual.
We hug and sit down. He asks me if I would like a glass of wine and I order a Riesling. We chat for a bit. It’s apparent he is an arrogant son of a bitch. He’s talking about how Americans don’t appreciate Architects and he has to go abroad to South America because Americans can’t afford him.
I have this feeling of throwing my glass of wine in his face and walking out but I refrain. I am famished and drinking wine on an empty stomach is making me light-headed. He asks if I’m hungry-I tell him that I’m famished. “There’s a great little pub around the corner that serves great home style food” he tells me (the one good thing he has told me all night).
I smile and tell him that sounds good. Let’s go. We walk a few blocks to the pub making small talk along the way. Dinner is uneventful he talks more about himself and my mind starts to wonder. Finally dinner is over. He asks me if I want to see his projects at his apartment which is a block from here. Instead of saying what’s on my mind, I tell him yes.
He pays for dinner and we leave. I would like to leave without him as well. But I did spend 2 hours getting here I might as well try to enjoy myself. Maybe his projects are worth it. We arrive at his studio apartment and he shows me his designs & prototypes. Interesting but useful? Hmmmm. The jury is still out on that.
Then he turns around and kisses me. My eyes are closed (I can’t bear to open them) and we kiss. I’m thinking of his pictures he was eye candy-so cute. Maybe just maybe he is a good kisser?
Nope. He kisses like a dog at the kitchen table aka the wet kiss and the limp tongue aka the dead fish. I open my eyes and see him for what he really is. I can’t do this. I push him away and put on my coat and tell him thanks for the evening but I have to go. I literally run out the door. I felt as though I had a panic attack-I couldn’t breath.
I’m on the redline heading back when he texts me and asks me what is wrong. I contemplate what to say. Finally I text him back. Oblivious to my surroundings I look up. The train has stopped and it is void of people. I’m dressed in my long red coat, black dress, and heels. I have my new cell phone in my left hand as I peer out of the train. All of a sudden the doors close on me and my cell phone drops from my hand. I kick it with my left leg-it reaches safety away from the tracks.
A passerby comes to my rescue. I ask him to retrieve my cell phone for me. He picks it up and puts it back in my hand. I am still stuck in the door flailing about (half in half out) what a sight I must have been. Finally the doors open-I am free. Being stuck in the door was the highlight of my bad date. It was the funniest thing that happened to me all night.