A month later, Can-Can Boy was back - in full force, flirting and texting late at night, and asking me all about my life, and what I'd been doing with my life, and who I'm hanging out with, and why my best friend defriended him on facebook (cause you're an asshat, dumbshit).
About a week after she defriended him, I sent him a message letting him know I couldn't look at his face or facebook anymore, and since he wasn't all too fond of who I was becoming... that I was defriending him.
He didn't like that. He was actually really pissed off about it.
Well I had moved on, since clearly he had, and I felt the need to tell him.
Lucky for me I was dating a really smoking guy at the time. Group 3 People, Group 3. And I felt the need to divulge every lovely detail to Can-Can Boy. Sent him a picture via text of this guy, and if he even texted to see what was going on, I'd bring up New Guy. Bitter, why yes, that was the least of it. Grudge is actually my middle name.
New Guy was absolutely great if you're into the long distance/see you on the weekends kind of thing, but I realized something about 2 months in... I was dating him in order to wave my happy little relationship in Can-Can Boys face. He might have been gorgeous, but I wasn't all that 100% into him, and I just got out of the long distance thing a few months before and where most people would drool over him, all I wanted to do was find someone who could be there for me.
A few weeks after the break up, Can-Can Boy asked why I never brought up New Guy anymore, dumbly, I told him we broke up.
Can-Can Boy never really left me alone for more than 2 weeks after this.
And he had a 6th sense of when he could find me at my most vulnerable moments.
A relationship ends - guess who texts me consistently not 30 minutes afterwards.
I fail epically at a job interview - guess who texts me.
I hit a depth of despair - guess who texts me.
Someone dies - guess who texts me.
It's not like we were friends on facebook. He couldn't see all of this going down. Because after he got the new girlfriend (the blonde girl who kept popping up in pictures while we were "exclusive"). I blocked him. I didn't want to see him, and I didn't want him to see me.
-------
I tried to move on with my life.
But when the last person you loved just slammed the door in your face against your "kind of love" and potentially cheated when you have trust issues already, it's hard to let anyone else in again.
The emotional scars lasted for two-fucking-years. Every guy I dated afterwards could see them, like a fucking beacon shouting, "NOT LETTING YOU IN, TRY AGAIN!"
And then it got worse. Somewhere in my vulnerability, I started letting Can-Can Boy back in, again. What started off as, "let's just be friends" turned into one of the most fucked-up series of late-night sexts and emotional outpourings, which no one I know has even been able to match.
Every single weekend for nearly a year... he'd pop up, or I'd text him, because if no one else better was around, he was there.
And originally I thought, "he still loves me. He's going to break up with his girlfriend, and we'll get back together. He graduates soon!"
Nope.
Somewhere in the midst of all of these late night texts he was sending me, he proposed.... to his girlfriend.
That didn't stop him from still sexting me, while he had a fiance.
I didn't find out about the fiance till a month later, after a month full of texts that should they ever find their way to her computer... would make her eyes bleed.
Who does that? Tiny fucked up men, that's who (I dont mean tiny in the sense that you're thinking, I mean someone who doesn't have the balls to stick with their decisions. Men without honor or dignity or morals).
I tried to to cut it off. I told him he had to stop texting me at night. If he wanted to be friends, we could be friends, but that meant daytime-texts only. None of this late night bullshit anymore. He was engaged to be married. The sanctity of marriage is something I don't mess with. I went out with a married guy, ONCE, and that was because I didn't know he was married until he told me on the date.
But did Can-Can Boy's new engagement stop him? Nope.
What stopped him for a short while was a post on my blog, where I mentioned that maybe his girlfriend would like to see all of those sexts he sent me.
He flipped. He freaked. And he texted me in a panic asking me to delete everything he had sent me.
It hit me like a NHL Defenseman cross checking me into the boards, when I was focusing on the puck.
He had wanted to have me sextually, but he wanted her to have everything else.
That was the hardest part.
--------
From all the scarring, and through all of this... I developed a really unfortunate side-effect.
For the last year and a half, if the need to be serious with someone reared its nasty little head, I would indulge... in guys I can't have. Guys who can't emotionally damage me, because they never get past the gate.
For starters, I am really good at being the other woman.
It evolved from not being able to trust anymore, so why not be with ones I know are completely untrustworthy from the start? At least then I know not to trust them with anything other than my presence.
(1). I do not run around with married guys. That's not my bag of tea, personally, but (2) everyone else is fair game.
At last check I have been in two, 9-month-plus affairs with guys who both have serious girlfriends.
Next, I am a champion of the long distance if-you-were-here-we'd-be-together-thing.
Back before chatroulette got 100% sketch I met some pretty interesting characters... some of who I still talked to on a weekly if not daily basis through Skype. These all turned into phone calls and texting and promises of visits across the country, which I never planned on actually doing.
I did recently shut all these down, because long distance is wrong distance for me, and it just got cruel to lead them around on a string, hoping.
Finally, I didn't invest in just one guy anymore. My heart couldn't afford it. Through the past couple of years, I've dated some really great guys, with great jobs, great aspirations, great dreams, and great personalities, who want to shower me with love and never ending adoration, but I dated them all at the same time in varying levels of seriousness. Because while my heart is over the moon, my head closed them out.
To be honest there were 3 guys who didn't have to share me at the time I dated them, because I honestly liked them... The Masseuse, Dicky MacDickerson, and Mr. Quirky, but if I felt one of them starting to get serious. I would find something to shove in their face and break it off.
Being good at ending things with people is not an admirable quality to have.
------
But I'm done with that. The Friday night before Halloween this year was an ugly, ugly wake-up call. Hoss still asks me if I'm going to have another "episode" whenever I walk into his bar.
Lucky for me, I have some amazing friends, who have smacked me into reality and who really take care of me.
I dont know what Sam texted Can-Can Boy to make him stop texting me finally, but I do know that all those texts he asked me to delete... all those pictures are saved in my old Palm Pre Plus. If he tries anything funny again (Text me again. I dare you)... I've got dated pictures from after he was engaged that can find their way to little miss blondie's computer faster than you can say, "hi."
I know it's low - it's questionable black-mail, and he might have something of mine that I wouldn't like out in the ether, but I'm tired of being used.
Note of warning - only sext people you trust, and you didn't screw over.
I'm tired of looking to the past. The future is the only thing I have left.
The psychic was wrong.
He was the worst thing that happened to me since my first grandmother died in 1999. She was Aunt Billie's sister.
The Saturday night before Halloween was the first moment since Christmas of 2009, where I felt free. It was my night of redemption in more ways than one.
------
I recently started talking to a guy, who's funny and charming and great. I don't know where it's gonna go, but I do know one thing.
He's going to get a chance I didn't give any of the others, since Can-Can Boy.
It's time the walls came down.
Showing posts with label halloweekend. Show all posts
Showing posts with label halloweekend. Show all posts
Monday, December 5, 2011
Thursday, November 3, 2011
OssumOctober - Sex, Drugs, and Rock n Roll... ok No Drugs
So after professing my desires at the beginning of this month, I wanted to wrap up the lose ends of the month and let everyone know the valuable lessons that I have learned about dating in DC. Because trust me. I have learned SO MUCH.
We'll run through this blog post by blog post.
POST 1
What was OssumOctober? Brief roundup For the month of OssumOctober, I - LoRo will go on no dates with, hang out with, or text, or call, or message, or tweet, or email, or snail mail any man who does not initiate the contact first. If I have to chase them, then they're more than likely 100% unavailable, emotionally or otherwise.
NotBen who was mentioned back and September, then reared his ugly little face in the Me-Like-You Basics October post - has never contacted me again. Probably for the best, because as Jane Bigham from Drop Dead Diva would say - "I deserve better," because let's be real. I do. And to be real, we all deserve better than to be treated like we don't exist. We're people damn it!
Mini-lesson: Don't sell yourself short. You're awesome and if someone doesn't realize it, don't waste your time trying to make them realize it.
However, I have discovered that the me-like-you basics work best when superheated and over flowing, i.e. Eyes Locked over the bar with a hair toss (exposing the neck), a coy smile and a kiss on the cheek. Match. Set. Point. Everytime. This signature move will literally redeem all past wrongs. Trust me.
Because seriously, he'll never know you [still] harbor feelings for him if you don't make it painfully obvious that you're INTO him. What you think is "oh so obvious," usually is oh so unnoticeable.
Lesson 1
LET THEM KNOW YOU'RE INTO THEM. Don't leave them guessing.
Don't think, "God, they'll figure it out if I bat my eyelashes enough." Let them know. Hug them a little too long, touch them in suggestive manners, touch them in errogenous zones (o.k. maybe not that one, you could get called for harrassment), but if it's been years and they still have no idea, grab the sexy beast by both arms and say, "GOD DAMNIT I LIKE YOU."
If they don't know, they wont know to show you that they're into you too, or dispel your attractions when they show you their hidden wedding band. Just saying.
-------------------------------------------------------------------
POST 2
Halloween night, MrStateDepartment and I had a really nice, long skype chat, and it was really just what I needed on the one year anniversary of being chased down by two assailants in my parking lot.
I don't know what's sadder the fact that none of my close friends or my actual FAMILY thought that I might need a - 'chin up LoRo,' or the fact that the only person who remembered lives 3000 miles away. Enough with the pity party, back to the point.
He's settling in nicely while really enjoying the whole halloween thing in a foreign country, though he's horribly disappointed by the lack of trick-or-treaters. He did however dress his dog up like a turtle... it was bizarre to see.
I still miss him every now and then when I think about how I'd like to escape my life for a few hours and traipse over to Arlington to be treated like a princess and play with his puppy, but I know that holding onto something that wasn't meant to be is futile, so on I move.
Lesson Two
Know when it's time to move onto another potential.
Harboring feelings for someone who isn't interested in you, or someone who no longer is within reaching distance isn't healthy, especially when they don't know you exist, and you don't want to take my advice on lesson one. There are plenty of gorgeous, fun potentials out there with hearts of gold and compassion to spare. Waiting around for that ONE guy whom you've always loved isn't going to make him love you. Know when to cut your losses, and when it's time to put your energy into someone new.
You're awesome, don't sell yourself short thinking that, "he/she is the only guy for you and if they'd only get to know you... they'd know."
I'm not saying that you can't have crushes, dude, I have crushes all the time, but harboring unspoken feelings for them and obsessing over one person continuously for months upon months, isn't healthy... it's a tv show, and it's obsessive. Let them know or move on to the next one.
-------------------------------------------------------------------
Which brings me to...
POST 3
Hooking up with my ultimate crush, Goal, was... crushing. I'm going to be real with y'all. Having someone profess all these feelings of admiration and crushy-ness, followed by an amazing night, followed by brunch, followed by one of the best text-ersations I've had in a long time, only to discover he probably deleted my phone number immediately after he made me put it in his phone, is devastating.
Because when I texted him the following Monday, and we had this epic conversation where I laughed and laughed, and he said that he was dying from laughter, I was so friggin' excited. I thought, "this feels right." Wrong.
Right around closing of business he said, "sooo, a few of us are going camping this weekend if you wanna come."
"Sure sounds like it could be fun." (I was flying on the fricking moon, I called EVERYBODY I could reach, freaking-out-ecstatic.)
"It'll be the regular group, x,y,z,a,b,c,l,m,n,o, &p."
I didn't respond because I didn't know any of those people... So I went over to Blair's to ask how she would respond, but she didn't either... then he texted again...
"Could you shoot me your email so that I can add you to the email chain going around?"
"email.address"
Nothing from him.
Nothing.
Nothing.
Nothing.
Me, "did you think I was someone else?"
He thought I was a long lost frat brother.... What did I do wrong? Technically nothing. I was myself, but my dating karma disagreed. I broke OssumOctober. I texted him first. WHICH WAS MY PROBLEM. The one time I broke OssumOctober... the one time I stepped up and texted a guy first in this whole month (aside from wishing a few guy friends, "happy birthdays"), I had it blow up in my face in the most epic of ways.
Which brings me to lesson number three.
Ladies... if he likes you, has your number, and wants to hang out. HE'LL TEXT YOU. If he has lost it. He'll find a way to find you. Men today are intelligent, resourceful, and determined when it comes to pursuing a woman they like. If he finds you worth his time - he'll make sure to spend his time with you. If you're wondering whether he's going to call and it's day 3 or god forbid day 4... he's not going to, unless he's a neurosurgeon with a full table full of brain - BUT HE'S THE OUTLIER.
-------------------------------------------------------------------
I'm skipping over POST 4 because that was for a friend.
-------------------------------------------------------------------
POST 5
That lesson has become so-fucking-apparent because while Goal never did text again... FunkyHatGuy - did. He wanted to hang out, he saw his opportunity and he went for it, granted he later turned out to be a giant douche, but he went for it. He took the chance. If they're worth your time. They'll take the chance. If they want to be with you, they'll take the chance. Shy or not, they'll do it.
Kryptonite has yet to come down to visit, but I'm hopeful he'll make the trek soon... so that we can figure out what cosmic forces keep pulling us together...
Lars... what to say about him. He's a great guy. A perfect gentleman, but he's still trying to find himself, and since I am too, I don't think I particularly want to struggle to find my bearings with another struggling artist of sorts, because to be perfectly honest the artist temperament does not work for me. I also have some issues with him never asking me what movie I want to see... if that makes sense... I think my drawbacks with him are on too many levels to really delve into. He also disappears for weeks at a time then sends a text out of the blue asking me to make plans with him - THAT NIGHT. He might have also drunk dialed me last night... um... k.
When I'm in a relationship or steady dating gig, spontaneity is one of my favorite aspects of a partner, I like to know that my life wont be one continuous droning of x, y, and z. However, if we're still knocking on the door to date 3... spontaneity shouldn't even be in your dating vocabulary. If you're asking a girl out... for plans... THAT NIGHT, you really should reevaluate your dating strategy. I like to be treated like I'm special... I think I deserve to have a little more thought put into a date versus, "oh hey I was bored and thought that maybe... you know?!"
FunkyHatGuy - what can I say... he had absolutely no compassion after I had a car wreck and couldn't help but to meet him 30 mins late at his apartment for football and drinks... and there was just an overall lack of care put into getting to know me. I can recognize that you weren't raised in the south, but when I've just had my brains rattled by some drunk biddie and you have the glass door open in the middle of a cold front... I'd like a little more compassion when I ask where the blankets are versus, "get one your damn self." Goodbye.
-------------------------------------------------------------------
POST 6
Halloweekend was a shit show. Halloweek was a shit show. So many things happened... so many things, which included never having to speak to Mr. Tennessee ever again, experiencing the double sided sword of keeping company with a promiscuous bartender, and overloading myself over at Rumors. Seriously... It was like a sauced frat party in there.
When Sexyface and I were talking later in the night after the bar closed, he asked "so what do you think of the bar?"
"People go to Rumors for dancing and trouble. Lots of trouble."
"So do you like my bar? Do you like dancing and trouble?"
"What is this a customer service satisfaction survey? I didn't know y'all made house calls... "
"Yes, I need to know what you think..."
"I'm making out with you. I think I'm down for the trouble part. Trust me mr. survey - I. Am. Satisfied."
But after experiencing the fruits of the Rumors loom and essentially dodging two requests for my number that night,
I've learned lesson number four.
Don't give out your number unless you actually want the person to call.
If you give out your number, you're hoping someone will use it... and if you give out your number and hope that person doesn't use it... then you're going to need me to explain Murphy's Law, which states the one you want will not call, but the one you don't want will never stop blowing up your phone. Trust me.
On Saturday night I was looking for a good time.
I was not looking for a boyfriend courtesy of my favorite dating service Rumors, (seriously I need a tattoo that says, "If found return to Rumors - They know me there"). Somehow I got the barback's phone number... what?! I asked all my friends, they have no idea when this happened... That night, I was looking to hang out with my friends, drink, party, have fun.
Worrying about whether some guy is going to call me the next day is not fun. It's nerve wracking, because if he does - I'll go out with him find out we have no sober chemistry and then be down 3 hours of my life, OR he'll call then I'll wrack my brain with what to wear and how cute I should look only to get there and discover he looks NOTHING like I remember, or if he doesn't call, then I'm pissed off because some drunk dumb-dumb didn't call me back and then I'll question my self worth. It's not worth it.
But anyway... that's the round up of the month... there are many many more stories I could toss in there, but I'm sure the people involved wouldn't want them in there, so I'm leaving them out.
Other guys not mentioned in my October blog posts who have also been circling around, and you can definitely look forward to posts about, are GalaxyQuestGuy and the Dancing Lumberjack. I'll probably compare their two first dates next Monday!
If you're not already follow me @SingleDC!
We'll run through this blog post by blog post.
POST 1
What was OssumOctober? Brief roundup For the month of OssumOctober, I - LoRo will go on no dates with, hang out with, or text, or call, or message, or tweet, or email, or snail mail any man who does not initiate the contact first. If I have to chase them, then they're more than likely 100% unavailable, emotionally or otherwise.
NotBen who was mentioned back and September, then reared his ugly little face in the Me-Like-You Basics October post - has never contacted me again. Probably for the best, because as Jane Bigham from Drop Dead Diva would say - "I deserve better," because let's be real. I do. And to be real, we all deserve better than to be treated like we don't exist. We're people damn it!
Mini-lesson: Don't sell yourself short. You're awesome and if someone doesn't realize it, don't waste your time trying to make them realize it.
However, I have discovered that the me-like-you basics work best when superheated and over flowing, i.e. Eyes Locked over the bar with a hair toss (exposing the neck), a coy smile and a kiss on the cheek. Match. Set. Point. Everytime. This signature move will literally redeem all past wrongs. Trust me.
Because seriously, he'll never know you [still] harbor feelings for him if you don't make it painfully obvious that you're INTO him. What you think is "oh so obvious," usually is oh so unnoticeable.
Lesson 1
LET THEM KNOW YOU'RE INTO THEM. Don't leave them guessing.
Don't think, "God, they'll figure it out if I bat my eyelashes enough." Let them know. Hug them a little too long, touch them in suggestive manners, touch them in errogenous zones (o.k. maybe not that one, you could get called for harrassment), but if it's been years and they still have no idea, grab the sexy beast by both arms and say, "GOD DAMNIT I LIKE YOU."
If they don't know, they wont know to show you that they're into you too, or dispel your attractions when they show you their hidden wedding band. Just saying.
-------------------------------------------------------------------
POST 2
Halloween night, MrStateDepartment and I had a really nice, long skype chat, and it was really just what I needed on the one year anniversary of being chased down by two assailants in my parking lot.
I don't know what's sadder the fact that none of my close friends or my actual FAMILY thought that I might need a - 'chin up LoRo,' or the fact that the only person who remembered lives 3000 miles away. Enough with the pity party, back to the point.
He's settling in nicely while really enjoying the whole halloween thing in a foreign country, though he's horribly disappointed by the lack of trick-or-treaters. He did however dress his dog up like a turtle... it was bizarre to see.
I still miss him every now and then when I think about how I'd like to escape my life for a few hours and traipse over to Arlington to be treated like a princess and play with his puppy, but I know that holding onto something that wasn't meant to be is futile, so on I move.
Lesson Two
Know when it's time to move onto another potential.
Harboring feelings for someone who isn't interested in you, or someone who no longer is within reaching distance isn't healthy, especially when they don't know you exist, and you don't want to take my advice on lesson one. There are plenty of gorgeous, fun potentials out there with hearts of gold and compassion to spare. Waiting around for that ONE guy whom you've always loved isn't going to make him love you. Know when to cut your losses, and when it's time to put your energy into someone new.
You're awesome, don't sell yourself short thinking that, "he/she is the only guy for you and if they'd only get to know you... they'd know."
I'm not saying that you can't have crushes, dude, I have crushes all the time, but harboring unspoken feelings for them and obsessing over one person continuously for months upon months, isn't healthy... it's a tv show, and it's obsessive. Let them know or move on to the next one.
-------------------------------------------------------------------
Which brings me to...
POST 3
Hooking up with my ultimate crush, Goal, was... crushing. I'm going to be real with y'all. Having someone profess all these feelings of admiration and crushy-ness, followed by an amazing night, followed by brunch, followed by one of the best text-ersations I've had in a long time, only to discover he probably deleted my phone number immediately after he made me put it in his phone, is devastating.
Because when I texted him the following Monday, and we had this epic conversation where I laughed and laughed, and he said that he was dying from laughter, I was so friggin' excited. I thought, "this feels right." Wrong.
Right around closing of business he said, "sooo, a few of us are going camping this weekend if you wanna come."
"Sure sounds like it could be fun." (I was flying on the fricking moon, I called EVERYBODY I could reach, freaking-out-ecstatic.)
"It'll be the regular group, x,y,z,a,b,c,l,m,n,o, &p."
I didn't respond because I didn't know any of those people... So I went over to Blair's to ask how she would respond, but she didn't either... then he texted again...
"Could you shoot me your email so that I can add you to the email chain going around?"
"email.address"
Nothing from him.
Nothing.
Nothing.
Nothing.
Me, "did you think I was someone else?"
He thought I was a long lost frat brother.... What did I do wrong? Technically nothing. I was myself, but my dating karma disagreed. I broke OssumOctober. I texted him first. WHICH WAS MY PROBLEM. The one time I broke OssumOctober... the one time I stepped up and texted a guy first in this whole month (aside from wishing a few guy friends, "happy birthdays"), I had it blow up in my face in the most epic of ways.
Which brings me to lesson number three.
Ladies... if he likes you, has your number, and wants to hang out. HE'LL TEXT YOU. If he has lost it. He'll find a way to find you. Men today are intelligent, resourceful, and determined when it comes to pursuing a woman they like. If he finds you worth his time - he'll make sure to spend his time with you. If you're wondering whether he's going to call and it's day 3 or god forbid day 4... he's not going to, unless he's a neurosurgeon with a full table full of brain - BUT HE'S THE OUTLIER.
-------------------------------------------------------------------
I'm skipping over POST 4 because that was for a friend.
-------------------------------------------------------------------
POST 5
That lesson has become so-fucking-apparent because while Goal never did text again... FunkyHatGuy - did. He wanted to hang out, he saw his opportunity and he went for it, granted he later turned out to be a giant douche, but he went for it. He took the chance. If they're worth your time. They'll take the chance. If they want to be with you, they'll take the chance. Shy or not, they'll do it.
Kryptonite has yet to come down to visit, but I'm hopeful he'll make the trek soon... so that we can figure out what cosmic forces keep pulling us together...
Lars... what to say about him. He's a great guy. A perfect gentleman, but he's still trying to find himself, and since I am too, I don't think I particularly want to struggle to find my bearings with another struggling artist of sorts, because to be perfectly honest the artist temperament does not work for me. I also have some issues with him never asking me what movie I want to see... if that makes sense... I think my drawbacks with him are on too many levels to really delve into. He also disappears for weeks at a time then sends a text out of the blue asking me to make plans with him - THAT NIGHT. He might have also drunk dialed me last night... um... k.
When I'm in a relationship or steady dating gig, spontaneity is one of my favorite aspects of a partner, I like to know that my life wont be one continuous droning of x, y, and z. However, if we're still knocking on the door to date 3... spontaneity shouldn't even be in your dating vocabulary. If you're asking a girl out... for plans... THAT NIGHT, you really should reevaluate your dating strategy. I like to be treated like I'm special... I think I deserve to have a little more thought put into a date versus, "oh hey I was bored and thought that maybe... you know?!"
FunkyHatGuy - what can I say... he had absolutely no compassion after I had a car wreck and couldn't help but to meet him 30 mins late at his apartment for football and drinks... and there was just an overall lack of care put into getting to know me. I can recognize that you weren't raised in the south, but when I've just had my brains rattled by some drunk biddie and you have the glass door open in the middle of a cold front... I'd like a little more compassion when I ask where the blankets are versus, "get one your damn self." Goodbye.
-------------------------------------------------------------------
POST 6
Halloweekend was a shit show. Halloweek was a shit show. So many things happened... so many things, which included never having to speak to Mr. Tennessee ever again, experiencing the double sided sword of keeping company with a promiscuous bartender, and overloading myself over at Rumors. Seriously... It was like a sauced frat party in there.
When Sexyface and I were talking later in the night after the bar closed, he asked "so what do you think of the bar?"
"People go to Rumors for dancing and trouble. Lots of trouble."
"So do you like my bar? Do you like dancing and trouble?"
"What is this a customer service satisfaction survey? I didn't know y'all made house calls... "
"Yes, I need to know what you think..."
"I'm making out with you. I think I'm down for the trouble part. Trust me mr. survey - I. Am. Satisfied."
But after experiencing the fruits of the Rumors loom and essentially dodging two requests for my number that night,
I've learned lesson number four.
Don't give out your number unless you actually want the person to call.
If you give out your number, you're hoping someone will use it... and if you give out your number and hope that person doesn't use it... then you're going to need me to explain Murphy's Law, which states the one you want will not call, but the one you don't want will never stop blowing up your phone. Trust me.
On Saturday night I was looking for a good time.
I was not looking for a boyfriend courtesy of my favorite dating service Rumors, (seriously I need a tattoo that says, "If found return to Rumors - They know me there"). Somehow I got the barback's phone number... what?! I asked all my friends, they have no idea when this happened... That night, I was looking to hang out with my friends, drink, party, have fun.
Worrying about whether some guy is going to call me the next day is not fun. It's nerve wracking, because if he does - I'll go out with him find out we have no sober chemistry and then be down 3 hours of my life, OR he'll call then I'll wrack my brain with what to wear and how cute I should look only to get there and discover he looks NOTHING like I remember, or if he doesn't call, then I'm pissed off because some drunk dumb-dumb didn't call me back and then I'll question my self worth. It's not worth it.
But anyway... that's the round up of the month... there are many many more stories I could toss in there, but I'm sure the people involved wouldn't want them in there, so I'm leaving them out.
Other guys not mentioned in my October blog posts who have also been circling around, and you can definitely look forward to posts about, are GalaxyQuestGuy and the Dancing Lumberjack. I'll probably compare their two first dates next Monday!
If you're not already follow me @SingleDC!
Sunday, October 30, 2011
I HAVE REDEEMED MYSELF! - Halloweekend
If you've been reading my blog for awhile, you might recall this post about when I freaked out on SexyFace as he drove me through Rock Creek Park...
What you don't know is that there's more to the story.
While he did take me back to my place it was not prior to him taking me back to his place for some hard-core making out.
So there we are - in this well appointed one bedroom apartment making out on the couch when....
The kamikazes started to avenge their quick demise into my digestive system and return... with a vengeance. I literally stopped kissing him, put one finger in front of my mouth and said, "where's your bathroom?" He pointed. I ran.
5 milliseconds later I'm puking in his toilet. For the next 2 hours our hard-core make out session turned into him sitting on the floor with me while I puked into the toilet every 30 minutes while bleeding on his bath mat, because somewhere in between making out and the bathroom I had cut my leg.
Oh. Yeah.
I killed my bar.
I not only could not return to my favorite alcoholic establishment for a YEAR. The sheer embarrassment from everything that happened literally paralyzed me whenever someone suggested we go to his bar.
The following summer when I finally returned to the bar, I went up to him praying that the faces would have blended together with all the other girls he's been with, and he wouldn't remember me.
Nope.
I order my drink, hand him the cash, and he turns around (here I am thinking, "HALLELUJAH He doesn't remember me!").
He stops. Cash still in hand, he slowly turns back to look at me, smirks, and while shaking his head says, "Lo-fucking-Ro. How have you been? How was Texas? What's it been... seriously like a year since I saw you last."
So not only did he remember who I was and where I was from. He remembered when he last saw me.
Every moment in that bar since then, I have felt a little embarrassed. If it hadn't have been so fun, and my friends didn't love it, I wouldn't go there. So I fought my shame and bit the bullet. I refused to get my drinks from him after that. I couldn't. I just felt blind sided with shame, but as the months went by, he'd stop me when I'd walk by his bar to make sure I was o.k. and if I needed anything or if anyone was bothering me.
Cut to this weekend.
Friday night in honor of the holiday weekend my friends and I dressed up and hit the Page, because Sign of the Whale can just be too overwhelming (or underwhelming) when you're not plastered.
Somewhere in between my free drinks, a horrible accident to my uncle which I found out about on my way out the door, and the lack of enthusiasm of the night in general because it was so cold, and people weren't really out I started to feel sad. Then my ex, Can-Can Boy texted me at midnight (what kind of guy with a fiance texts a girl he used to love at midnight on a weekend?) The constant rejection of the guys at the Page then hit me full force. On top of that my Bartender disappeared and everyone knows what that means (back alley - sexytime) and I just couldn't handle it anymore.
The waterworks exploded. I stood in the hallway with my phone texting until Hoss came by and let me sit in the dining room in a far corner to gain my composure. I never did. Every new text from him reaffirmed my fears that I will never have another man love me again. It reaffirmed my fear of being abandoned and replaced. And it just hit home the fact that since I've gained weight post college, my body is not where I want it to be and my lack-luster approach to exercise doesn't cut it.
New Text.
Cry.
New Text.
Sob.
New Text.
Cry.
New Text.
Sob.
I was that girl. The girl no one wants to be around at parties, because the pity party she throws herself is more epic than the one around her. I knew it was bad when not only did a bartender I did not know come over to make sure I was ok, but when the barback kicked out a few other groups of people sitting in the dining area, he looked at my tear soaked face and walked away - letting me stay (side note - Make Up for Ever's Aqua collection, didn't smudge or run at all, during this. literally stayed perfect around my eyes.)
Sam and Zoya managed to calm me down, and I went home with Sam to a world full of pizza and girl talk.
The next night I knew that if I started throwing a pity party it was going to be one long downhill spiral of regret and disallusionment. And I knew that if I started bawling at the bars for two nights in a row, my girls - probably would have been a little pissed off that I messed up their night..... again.
So when we went to Nightmare on M St. the next day - I knew I had to get my party on, and I had to get my party on HARD.
The night was a resounding success on all accounts, starting with (1) No Pity Party - (2) No Puking - (3) I set a goal for myself and achieved it.
It's been nearly 2 1/2 years since the let-me-puke-for-2-hours-when-we-should-be-making-out incident occurred, and I have always harbored these still horribly intense feelings of "OMYGODHE'SSOFRIGGIN'HOT" for SexyFace. Seriously, he's Adonis. If you follow my twitter you might recall a tweet from Thursday, where I mentioned something about just wanting to grab him and tell him how attractive I find him.
My girls Sam and Norma have constantly insisted that I need to just stomp up to him and say "HEY I'm Sexy! You're Sexy! Let's be Sexy together!" (or something like that - Norma would never say something like that - Sam might, but you get the drift).
But inside all this bravado and social butterfly nature, I'm a horribly shy individual. Doing that would just completely turn me into Pity Party Pat if he rejected me. So I didn't.
BUT... Here's where it get's good.
Enter Halloween. The one night of the year where the spirits (alcoholic ones) converge to make mischief happen...
After bouncing around his bar all night getting drinks from all the bartenders aside from him, he pointed it out.
"Why don't you ever ask me for a drink?"
"Because I dont like bothering you."
"Ask me."
"Can I have a rum and coke?"
"No, go away kid ya bother me!"
My face said it all, so...
We started talking... and
As it turns out... he's noticed me, every single time I've been in his bar since I first returned last July... He noticed which bartenders I like more than him because I always give them kisses on the cheek (of which he is actually jealous...) and because I bought my alcoholic beverages from them. And he noticed who I came with. How often I came there. And every outfit I'd worn to the bar since (seriously he started listing them from my hot blue halter to the recent rash of wearing ties as belts - his favorite is anytime I pull out my cognac leather jacket).
He finally made my rum and coke, and since I had a few drops (gallons) of liquid encouragement (and because he admitted he was jealous of Murph and Ali) I kissed him on the cheek after he handed it to me.
His face turned bright red.
It was at this point in time that I announced to Sam, "I am going to redeem myself tonight. I am going to make out with SexyFace and it's going to be epic." She of course smiled & nodded appropriately, but I believe some part of her didn't believe me, because after my recent rash of calling out DIBS and then never capitalizing on my desires - my goal to finish ratio is very low.
After awhile the bar hit its plateau, and I was grabbing a drink from Ali - when SexyFace stopped to talk briefly, before walking away to make an actual paying customer his drink. I called him back over, kissed him on the other cheek and smiled - He blushed, and I darted off into the crowd.
As the night wore on, the DJ announced last call so I found my friends by his bar taking a round of tequila, I had long since switched over to water, because my buzz was getting more saucy and less buzzy (and remember I did NOT want to be puking). I looked-on as they did the shot, and Sexyface called out, "You can't have any."
"Not that I wanted one, but why not?"
"It's not for you."
I crossed the floor to his corner and looked at him under my eyelashes with a sly smirk, while he shook his shaker thingy with all his might.
"Why not?"
He set out two shot glasses in front of me and smiled while pouring the liquid from that shaker thingy into the plastic cups.
"Because you're too classy for tequila. You, LoRo, are a top shelf vodka-kamikaze kind of girl."
He then handed me one of the cups and took one for himself before downing it and kissing me on the cheek.
"Say what, why don't you wait here, and we'll go talk for a few."
Match. Set. Point.
I sent my friends away (I think... I'm tipsy at this point in time, so everything after involving texting and anything really that was not SexyFace is kind of pushed out of my mind - However the next morning Sam did show me a series of text which began with if I die, SexyFace did it).
He pulled me back into the depths of the ober secret conference room, and we started to talk, which digressed into me. (1) NOT PUKING. (2) Redeeming myself, which then digressed into me actually sleeping in the conference room until 5 a.m, which is when he closed out all his tabs, counted tips, dealt with work drama-llama. He came back upstairs and awoke me with a kiss, a-la Sleeping Beauty. He slid onto the conference table with me and wrapped me in his arms, his big, pale, burly-man arms.
As he pulled away from a kiss, he eyed me, "What do you think of my beard? Does it bother you? Do you like it?"
I slid my hand across his face and looked at his beard and then up into his eyes...
"It looks great on you," (Oh-wow, honey you have no idea how good it looks on you).
We had a great chat. We had a great night.
Sometimes the luck of the night is all in the luck of the draw.
Between sobbing the night before in the Page and my year and a half long stint of constant embarrassment, I have officially redeemed myself, and fuck if I'm not proud!
What you don't know is that there's more to the story.
While he did take me back to my place it was not prior to him taking me back to his place for some hard-core making out.
So there we are - in this well appointed one bedroom apartment making out on the couch when....
The kamikazes started to avenge their quick demise into my digestive system and return... with a vengeance. I literally stopped kissing him, put one finger in front of my mouth and said, "where's your bathroom?" He pointed. I ran.
5 milliseconds later I'm puking in his toilet. For the next 2 hours our hard-core make out session turned into him sitting on the floor with me while I puked into the toilet every 30 minutes while bleeding on his bath mat, because somewhere in between making out and the bathroom I had cut my leg.
Oh. Yeah.
I killed my bar.
I not only could not return to my favorite alcoholic establishment for a YEAR. The sheer embarrassment from everything that happened literally paralyzed me whenever someone suggested we go to his bar.
The following summer when I finally returned to the bar, I went up to him praying that the faces would have blended together with all the other girls he's been with, and he wouldn't remember me.
Nope.
I order my drink, hand him the cash, and he turns around (here I am thinking, "HALLELUJAH He doesn't remember me!").
He stops. Cash still in hand, he slowly turns back to look at me, smirks, and while shaking his head says, "Lo-fucking-Ro. How have you been? How was Texas? What's it been... seriously like a year since I saw you last."
So not only did he remember who I was and where I was from. He remembered when he last saw me.
Every moment in that bar since then, I have felt a little embarrassed. If it hadn't have been so fun, and my friends didn't love it, I wouldn't go there. So I fought my shame and bit the bullet. I refused to get my drinks from him after that. I couldn't. I just felt blind sided with shame, but as the months went by, he'd stop me when I'd walk by his bar to make sure I was o.k. and if I needed anything or if anyone was bothering me.
Cut to this weekend.
Friday night in honor of the holiday weekend my friends and I dressed up and hit the Page, because Sign of the Whale can just be too overwhelming (or underwhelming) when you're not plastered.
Somewhere in between my free drinks, a horrible accident to my uncle which I found out about on my way out the door, and the lack of enthusiasm of the night in general because it was so cold, and people weren't really out I started to feel sad. Then my ex, Can-Can Boy texted me at midnight (what kind of guy with a fiance texts a girl he used to love at midnight on a weekend?) The constant rejection of the guys at the Page then hit me full force. On top of that my Bartender disappeared and everyone knows what that means (back alley - sexytime) and I just couldn't handle it anymore.
The waterworks exploded. I stood in the hallway with my phone texting until Hoss came by and let me sit in the dining room in a far corner to gain my composure. I never did. Every new text from him reaffirmed my fears that I will never have another man love me again. It reaffirmed my fear of being abandoned and replaced. And it just hit home the fact that since I've gained weight post college, my body is not where I want it to be and my lack-luster approach to exercise doesn't cut it.
New Text.
Cry.
New Text.
Sob.
New Text.
Cry.
New Text.
Sob.
I was that girl. The girl no one wants to be around at parties, because the pity party she throws herself is more epic than the one around her. I knew it was bad when not only did a bartender I did not know come over to make sure I was ok, but when the barback kicked out a few other groups of people sitting in the dining area, he looked at my tear soaked face and walked away - letting me stay (side note - Make Up for Ever's Aqua collection, didn't smudge or run at all, during this. literally stayed perfect around my eyes.)
Sam and Zoya managed to calm me down, and I went home with Sam to a world full of pizza and girl talk.
The next night I knew that if I started throwing a pity party it was going to be one long downhill spiral of regret and disallusionment. And I knew that if I started bawling at the bars for two nights in a row, my girls - probably would have been a little pissed off that I messed up their night..... again.
So when we went to Nightmare on M St. the next day - I knew I had to get my party on, and I had to get my party on HARD.
The night was a resounding success on all accounts, starting with (1) No Pity Party - (2) No Puking - (3) I set a goal for myself and achieved it.
It's been nearly 2 1/2 years since the let-me-puke-for-2-hours-when-we-should-be-making-out incident occurred, and I have always harbored these still horribly intense feelings of "OMYGODHE'SSOFRIGGIN'HOT" for SexyFace. Seriously, he's Adonis. If you follow my twitter you might recall a tweet from Thursday, where I mentioned something about just wanting to grab him and tell him how attractive I find him.
My girls Sam and Norma have constantly insisted that I need to just stomp up to him and say "HEY I'm Sexy! You're Sexy! Let's be Sexy together!" (or something like that - Norma would never say something like that - Sam might, but you get the drift).
But inside all this bravado and social butterfly nature, I'm a horribly shy individual. Doing that would just completely turn me into Pity Party Pat if he rejected me. So I didn't.
BUT... Here's where it get's good.
Enter Halloween. The one night of the year where the spirits (alcoholic ones) converge to make mischief happen...
After bouncing around his bar all night getting drinks from all the bartenders aside from him, he pointed it out.
"Why don't you ever ask me for a drink?"
"Because I dont like bothering you."
"Ask me."
"Can I have a rum and coke?"
"No, go away kid ya bother me!"
My face said it all, so...
We started talking... and
As it turns out... he's noticed me, every single time I've been in his bar since I first returned last July... He noticed which bartenders I like more than him because I always give them kisses on the cheek (of which he is actually jealous...) and because I bought my alcoholic beverages from them. And he noticed who I came with. How often I came there. And every outfit I'd worn to the bar since (seriously he started listing them from my hot blue halter to the recent rash of wearing ties as belts - his favorite is anytime I pull out my cognac leather jacket).
He finally made my rum and coke, and since I had a few drops (gallons) of liquid encouragement (and because he admitted he was jealous of Murph and Ali) I kissed him on the cheek after he handed it to me.
His face turned bright red.
It was at this point in time that I announced to Sam, "I am going to redeem myself tonight. I am going to make out with SexyFace and it's going to be epic." She of course smiled & nodded appropriately, but I believe some part of her didn't believe me, because after my recent rash of calling out DIBS and then never capitalizing on my desires - my goal to finish ratio is very low.
After awhile the bar hit its plateau, and I was grabbing a drink from Ali - when SexyFace stopped to talk briefly, before walking away to make an actual paying customer his drink. I called him back over, kissed him on the other cheek and smiled - He blushed, and I darted off into the crowd.
As the night wore on, the DJ announced last call so I found my friends by his bar taking a round of tequila, I had long since switched over to water, because my buzz was getting more saucy and less buzzy (and remember I did NOT want to be puking). I looked-on as they did the shot, and Sexyface called out, "You can't have any."
"Not that I wanted one, but why not?"
"It's not for you."
I crossed the floor to his corner and looked at him under my eyelashes with a sly smirk, while he shook his shaker thingy with all his might.
"Why not?"
He set out two shot glasses in front of me and smiled while pouring the liquid from that shaker thingy into the plastic cups.
"Because you're too classy for tequila. You, LoRo, are a top shelf vodka-kamikaze kind of girl."
He then handed me one of the cups and took one for himself before downing it and kissing me on the cheek.
"Say what, why don't you wait here, and we'll go talk for a few."
Match. Set. Point.
I sent my friends away (I think... I'm tipsy at this point in time, so everything after involving texting and anything really that was not SexyFace is kind of pushed out of my mind - However the next morning Sam did show me a series of text which began with if I die, SexyFace did it).
He pulled me back into the depths of the ober secret conference room, and we started to talk, which digressed into me. (1) NOT PUKING. (2) Redeeming myself, which then digressed into me actually sleeping in the conference room until 5 a.m, which is when he closed out all his tabs, counted tips, dealt with work drama-llama. He came back upstairs and awoke me with a kiss, a-la Sleeping Beauty. He slid onto the conference table with me and wrapped me in his arms, his big, pale, burly-man arms.
As he pulled away from a kiss, he eyed me, "What do you think of my beard? Does it bother you? Do you like it?"
I slid my hand across his face and looked at his beard and then up into his eyes...
"It looks great on you," (Oh-wow, honey you have no idea how good it looks on you).
We had a great chat. We had a great night.
Sometimes the luck of the night is all in the luck of the draw.
Between sobbing the night before in the Page and my year and a half long stint of constant embarrassment, I have officially redeemed myself, and fuck if I'm not proud!
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