Romanticize minutes spent
Standards to oblige-- bent Anticipation of something built Following bios and emotions spilled Sheer intrigue wrapped like candy Something shore leaves you sandy Different dawn and dialect This one too, I must forget
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An excerpt from DatesandCakes in the early days:There’s a fine line between anesthetized and shattered. The numbness a girl can harness is safe, a way to wrap herself in protection from sweet, little lies. But it is so easy to let someone in. To feel something for once that’s deceptively beautiful. You can say you won’t let another one in— this time I’m going to “just have fun” or “date like a guy and keep the emotion out of it” but, is that ever reality? Can you ever truly leave emotion out of it when you’ve made that connection? I wrestle with this every dozen guys or so. I say this so casually because connections are rare in the perfect amount: not too scarce but not easily tangible. So, upon discovering said connection, a rush tingles through your fingertips and now there’s a difference when his name flashes on your phone versus the others. But don’t underestimate the importance of “the others.” These play a part when this temporary “connection” pulls away. When he fades like just another sunset, you’re not alone. It’s a shallow kind of comfort but the heart becomes desperate when struck. This wrapped with a warped confidence that you’re worth it keeps you warm through another night… well, warm enough—it’s not “him” after all. But don’t be naive enough to think you’re the only operator harnessing the secret weapon of “others.” Your “connection” not only has “others” but, there’s a chance you’re one of his. I know, that stings. Isn’t infatuation fun? The Connection?Appreciation is a thing that should be constantly brought to the surface. THIS scene from PInk Panther (the remake of course, no Peter Sellers but, good none the less) is a joy, along with this epiphany I made about "the others." Since I haven't posted much since the last ache, this story is recovery.
This guy strolled up to the bestie and I stood beside her, like a shiny new pack of gum, peaking out of her purse. Wait... what? Gave ya something to chew on, huh? ;) Lol anywhooooooooooo My eyes trimmed in coal mascara skimmed the bar. They came to a screeching halt when I read a graphic t-shirt that read: pizza planet. Instantly let my nerd show and sparked a conversation about it. My intention was to escort myself to the dance floor after that quick Disney convo, but he SO HAPPENED to be the friend of the guy talking to my bestie. AND he had a country accent so thick, my feet seemed stuck right beside him. There's something about an accent so thicc, I can spread on toast... Like another round of shutdowns in 2020, I'm back! .....too soon... Well, this gent and I got to talking about interests and he said he lays pie-puh for work. I'm sorry, what?! Accent so thick, I could spread it on toast! It was sweeter than the green apple crown he got me. Then, ADHeffingD Stephanie tuned into the Shakira song that the dj delighted the honky tonk with. Without missing a beat, this country stranger from Oklahoma got to see first hand, Stephanie in her natural habitat. Breaking it down on the dance floor like I was back in Spain with that strong Reggaeton beat, I was in my element. Not quite a spectacle, but the Crown maybe told me a different story. As soon as the genre changed to country, he, Mr. Other Accent of Honey approached me and spun me into a two-stepping spree. I have no clue what song it was, but I beamed. I loved it! A country nerd spinning and twirling me around in the moment like a bowl of whipping cream and powdered sugar.... foreshadowing. At some point, he asked for a kiss, but I told him this wasn't Hershey's. As we turned, so did the clock and closing time was calling us home. We stepped outside as a group; him and his friend invited us back to their lake house, but before the invite fully dropped out of their mouth, I politely declined. Mr. Other Accent of Honey turned his head, "Wool, ken I at leeeest git yur phoooone number?" <<<best phonetic imitation of this bearded Okie. I slyly shook my head, with no fear of becoming dizzy. My bestie I suppose showed her sly side by slipping my number into his phone while I turned to look for our Uber. We parted ways with a smile and I knew that was the one and only time I'd hear that honey drawl and I was completely content. I kneaded that (like fresh dough on a floured surface). How simply our interaction illustrated that there are plenty of southern fish in the sea; some that are just here for fin and some that didn't belong in your part of the ocean anyway. Even though sometimes foundation is the goal, a dollop of fun that can even be bought out of a can Actual footage of my heart:This "other" showed me that I should whip those feelings of regret with the last country boy with a honeysuckle accent that also tangled me up on that same dance floor. Life is dolloped with sweetness that many times, isn't meant to last. That's the art to its sugar. Like any dessert on datesandcakes, it's sweet while it lasts but, the tray of brownies will eventually deplete or grow stale. It's the memories made while preparing these brownies and the time they borrowed and impression they made.... even if it landed on your hips ;)) Others' Whipped Cream
Quite familiar with the board game folded
If it were cards, a glance I'd have stolen Only to learn what suspicion spoke He too is a fiction chapter book No future to picture, as the pages turn Not Ray Bradbury's, but this too will burn Promising plot, but no deliberate direction Large font so suitableness is lost in affection Only when hands are mounted under hemlines No deviation for wandering of men's minds Strictly convenient with counterfeit caring Wrapped in more than his pages, conscious blaring Life lives him as him time title tease Colorful character but his ending: easy to read Replace to the shelf before he tries the same Alas, there's copious curves from this dame Mr. Fine Lines is a guy that I thought was special since he picked me over my bestie through Snapchat. He kept contact throughout the course of three homes I packed and unpacked through and through 2 1/2 boyfriends. Sidebar: It's not that "the 1/2" was half a man but, he was someone I was kind of serious about but declined his request to become his girlfriend. He was fine being in the background because he values his freedom more than his space; for him, they are not interchangeable. He wants his space to be consumed with bright screens, clouds of smoke, materialism, ammunition for verbal and physical jousts, and mentions of wanting a family. The freedom is for the freaking. He was a strategist, apparent in his use of words and applications of compliments. He alludes to you being the "perfect woman" but, never the perfect woman for him. It's irrelevant if I thought we were compatible. Which, since I'm pouring this out... I didn't, point blank. The timing was "just right," revealing "just the right amount" of what-you-wanna-hear while spooling the mystery. He never revealed too much, yet talked quite a bit-- especially leading up to the trip where he flew into my space, head, and fears. In the countdown of the 2 weeks prior to him landing in Dallas, he strategized the physical aspect of our anticipated time together. After our first encounter, he revealed that he seldom speaks to girls that sleep with him on the first date. The double standard that he relayed through the phone enraged me and quite frankly, should have ceased future efforts. I rebuttled with, "Shhyeah, like you weren't naked pressed against me. You wouldn't have stopped me if we did it." "Probably not, but how am I to know that girl doesn't sleep with other guys on the first date?" Rolling my eyes, I must have suppressed that red flag wrapped conversation because I entertained not one but two flights for our second encounter/date/rendezvous. The first one, I canceled because of Covid and another lust-interest that was pursuing me HARD. He even went as far to make a bet with me of who would give-in first to sex. YUP, for $50. So much for reserving bets for noble steeds. Am I so naive to scroll past the painfully sexual text messages to see what I wanted to hear and ONLY what I wanted to hear? Like the card game, I'm gonna call BS on ALL of it.You teased me with words like:
Your finale wouldn't be complete without:
His actions conveyed he dreaded a relationship with me since my plans, like most living in this pandemic, are not etched in ink. This is contrary to his words in a prior conversation about an ex-interest of mine that has now deemed himself pan-sexual. Mr. Fine Line got slightly heated and used choice words about such an arrangement. He stressed that it should be just you and your person. Then, in person, he exhibited macho status when Since he was all about things being "just right" and him "not wanting to share" yet he could be active on dating apps In no effort to be ironic, his dessert is a British breakfast and he is the closest person to Ron Swanson I've ever met. I give you, like the 3 home-cooked meals I gave him with not as much as a "thx bro," |
Who the hell did I think I was? I know there's a movement right now about girls being able to play the field and take their emotions out of physical interactions, but I need to face the bass-buzzing, window-down-blaring music that I'm different. My emotional capacity is not that of your average bear. Oh, did I forgot to give you the earth-shattering conclusion of this crush? GHOSTED. |
This is how the world works: you gotta leave before you get left." - T Swizzle
So, something finally has to give.... "I'm sorry [enter names here], I'm cleaning out my closet." Call it spring cleaning for my soul!
Do NOT mistake this for the 80's Rom-Com, "Pretty in the Pink." The protagonist does NOT get the guy, have a theme song, or have any recollection of wearing or packing the color pink on this 3 day trip to Prague.
Well..... did you at least earn a great story? Czech!
At the meeting spot for the pub crawl at 8 sharp, I saw a tall blonde with a sweater, or "jumper" as they call it, and skinny jeans similar to mine. I sparked up conversation instantly and her accent was quite a surprise. Australian, hands down. Stereotypical of an American, a vast number of us are infatuated with Australian and English accents. I know that's a stereotype... But are you really going to argue with me? You don't enjoy a good "mate" or "bloody hell?"
Yeah that's what I thought...
Anyway, after befriending The Awesome Aussie, we began to take shots that were compliments of the crawl for the first hour. Completely unlimited. She claimed she needed to pace herself, but I had experience with my blonde best friend back home on how-to entice others to take shots. There were three Brazilian girls standing, smiling, and sipping a beer. Why are you sipping during the only hour of free drinks, I thought. Beginners.
The Aussie must have had a similar thought because she prompted me, "let's go talk to them! They need to live and it up!"
Before you knew it, we had formed forces. Three beautiful Brazilians, The Awesome Aussie who was also beautiful, and me and my American Travel buddy (whom I guess to someone is beautiful ;) Since my travel buddy is a dude, I guess he's not included in our group that became known in the crawl as "The Baddest."
Another one, an American... Of course! If you've listened to any of my other European Bar Crawl stories... I always end up getting tangled up with an American. How basic of me LOL This particular one was a tall glass of water that also approached my travel buddy and said, "Man, the girl in the dress..... great job landing her, because she can freaking dance!"
Immediately, he corrected him and prompted him to approach me since I was single and could be bothered to mingle. Of course, he never did. Then what about the parallelogram? It's coming... I promise!
As one of the Brazilians found another Brazilian and kind of coupled off with him for the rest of the night... The rest of us continued to dance, flirt, and soak up Prague, since none of us had ever been here before. After one conversation my travel buddy had with The Awesome Aussie, my travel buddy looked defeated.
He approached me and said, "Well damn. At least she likes one of us."
Confused with who he was referring to, I pressed further.
"The awesome Aussie! She's not into me... But she likes you."
"Oh yeah, she's awesome," I said innocently.
He threw a teasing look at me and said, "Nah man, she dates girls too."
I threw my head back cackling. And if you've ever had the privilege to see this in real life, it's quite the scene. Completely flattered, I took the compliment and continued with my drinks. Scanning the room, I found this beautiful blonde, tall glass of water that I'd noticed that the first club, but figured he was out of my league. This time, his blue eyes met mine. Damn it! Another blue-eyed beauty.
He had an edgy kind of guy next to him who was also quite attractive, but didn't have my eye on that one. The Aussie walked right up to them. So feeling bold as well, I figured I'd join her. Flirting commenced and we ended up dancing around each other, but never necessarily together. Picture 4-year-olds playing soccer-- they get close, but usually never actually get the ball, they just hover.
While the Aussie interacted with the one I found most beautiful (he hailed from Poland), I interacted with the attractive, but edgy Russian. The only thing I could have ever imagined as a personality trait in regards to a Russian is that they're kind of intense... This guy definitely fit that bill, or that "Todd"... Just kidding! I can't remember his name anyway.
On the way to the bathroom, or "the lou" as she called it , her and I exchanged notes on which boy we were trying to pursue. She was into the Russian, I was into the Polish man, the Polish man seemed magnetically attracted to the Aussie and the Russian seem to gravitate to me, even after our conversation ended and I trailed off both literally and mentally. Then, keep in mind the Aussie has also had a girlfriend... So the possibilities here for what everyone was wanting seems endless.
See what I'm saying? A triangle would just not suffice....
Regardless of the country, I seldom pass up a drink offered from a cute boy as long as I can see it being made. I matched his vodka Sprite with "an abundance of limes." That's a quote. Usually I go for soda water, but the cute little bottles were something I couldn't resist. European bars seldom have carbonated soda stations or soda guns like our land-of-the-free bars. They also charge for water, since it too is bottled. Affordable? It's almost always more than an alcoholic drink. #hellohangover
After three of those lemon and lime sugared puppies (not ruff in the slightest), we made our way to the dance floor and he tried to keep rhythm. I would like to "Blame It On the Alcohol," but I'm pretty sure this boy just had no rhythm. Cute though, we danced as I glanced over at the other pair, The Awesome Aussie and my fleeting Crush, the Polish dude. Once Queen came on, it was a wrap. The Aussie and I screamed at the top of our lungs and jammed (no peanut butter in this country, unfortunately) together and the two boys found their way into other girls' arms. Fine by us, we thought. But like my blonde best friend in the states and I discovered time and time again, they usually come back.
So acting as if nothing happened, they were turn to us probably 5 songs or 10 songs later. That was the best measure of time I had since I don't sport a watch and my phone was rapidly dying. At this point, we had forgotten about our Brazilian girls until we ran into one of them (not literally, I only run to buffet lines and from commitment).
- My phone was at 2%, of which I had not unlocked it, therefore my SIM card did not work
- The Polish man made a move on the Aussie and apparently he's an atrocious kisser
- The Brazilians had to leave because one of the girls lost their purse with their passport at one of the prior clubs
- I completely lost my travel buddy, whom had the key to our hostel.
It was around 5 a.m. when the club closed, and the parallelogram of unrequited lust, made its way toward Old Prague, across one of the famous bridges. My hostel, mind you was in a completely different direction. Since I had no data or internet connection, I couldn't order an Uber, I couldn't get on maps to see how to get back, and oh yeah, I couldn't remember the name of our hostel. Do you know any hostels there are in downtown Prague? Probably equivalent to hotels in downtown Dallas.
FML why don't I eat more blueberries?
I tried to take notes from the Aussie's Google Maps to a hostel that sounded like mine, but I had no pen and no paper. So where else can I put the notes? In my dying phone. Awesome.
Now we know the Polish dude was never interested, but do you think the Russian even offered a "that sucks" or "good luck?" No.
Totally disregarded, I made my way into the foreign city alone. Along the way of my makeshift MapQuest directions, I miraculously found an open wi-fi connection that I could connect to. I'm not exaggerating here. It really truly was a miracle to find a place with free Wi-Fi.
During our 6 hours of daylight earlier that very day sightseeing, I could not find even one place that had open wi-fi. Not cafes, shops, tourist spots, and internet cafes were extinct in this city.
Thanking God I found this open Wi-Fi connection, I turned to Google for help. I sent a message to my travel buddy to keep an eye out for me and to tell me the code to get into the hostel. Isn't it fun, how some guys seem to be around till you need them?
After feeling like I got my bearings, I ventured out again with now 1% on my phone battery. Just as it was dying, I came across a taxi man helping a couple and their luggage into his car.
In all my experience in Prague, you know the whole three days of it, I found a blatant disregard for humans that we're not "in Czech" with their culture. Maybe just humans in general. So, I was a bit timid to ask the driver for help since I've been shut down several times just when ordering coffee, getting dinner, and sipping air through my freckled nose. It's not like I wasn't paying... well, aside from the air.
Well, thankfully, this guy only rolled his eyes once and told me which direction to go. I totally guessed it was "the Central hostel" and he helped me head in the right direction.
As my travel buddy answered the door, I began gushing about my night and inquiring of his. I found a different air in the room and I couldn't quite put my finger on it until it struck me that we may not be alone.
I prosed the famous question... "Is someone here?"
"Sorry," I heard as covers pushed up and out, revealing a small face framed with brown wavy hair.
Wow, I thought to myself, but tried hard to maintain a poker face. I know we share the same name, but I am no Lady Gaga. The stranger began laughing, unveiling her as American. The kind of "Minnesota-nice ....dontcha know." Somehow, the conversation turned to Celine Dion. The other American was so young that she was unfamiliar with the artist! Laughing hysterically, I belted into a famous Celine Dion song. My Travel buddy joined me and cued the backup music on his iPhone. After my performance, I told him to not even think about waking me in the morning, since it had been such an eventful night. Wouldn't you know that my happy little ass woke up at 3 p.m. the next day. Hungover, but happy.
Although it wasn't my favorite city because of the rude people, I do believe you should give this place a Nike Czech and "just do it" ;)
Doesn't automatically render a space
In your jumbled head of drafted plans
Shading the night to grays and tans
He brushed your curl aside as if it were practice
Outlined your firm expression that of an actress
Breathing close in a rhythm to hypnotize
Temporary this moment, yet to realize
Just because the scene has set doesn't mean he is
On the syllables of your name or how it sounds with his
So don't mistake a mere glint for an enlightening
You'll meet a thunder, fit to be his lightening
Author
Chef Steph cooking up trouble. If she can't find anything real, she bakes real good sweets. Chocolate really may mend a broken heart...
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