I used to think being called cute is an insult. It's a "safe" compliment. It is also a common compliment for puppies and babies. BUT, it's preferred to sexy. I've only come to this conclusion THIS last week of April. I'm surprised my eyes haven't rolled into the back of my head. We'll start with the guy I was going out with when Mr. Blues Clues from last post texted me about "adding to the party" completely oblivious to the fact that I was not playing pool in a t-length dress 42 minutes from my house for "fun." This guy we will call Mr. You-Should-Take-This-As-A-Compliment. This guy was more attractive in person than pictures and certainly carried himself as such. His eyes scanned my thin, pencil shaped dress several times before the words "wow, you look great" fell out his mouth. The typical banter commenced as I sipped on his southern accent that didn't match his face and a chocolate rum drink shaken, not stirred. He bought the bartenders a round and referenced his friends that kept illuminating his phone. "Everyone is trying to hang when I'm in town" he explained. "God, you're so hot," he muttered as I rolled my eyes. Speaking of rolls, cue waitress stage left with our sushi rolls. He picked at his plain California rolls, eating only 4 pieces by the time I had consumed my complex order that claimed to be spicy, yet to no avail. "Let's go play poooool." He pleaded with emphasis on the double o's almost like a Brit. "In this dress?" "Yeah, why not?" Another eye roll and I was on my way to his souped up black Jeep in which he opened my door for me. *Tallied 1 for the visitor team* But then, removed the tally with his music selection. It was a playlist of rap "munchies" as I heard my younger sister refer to them once. Kodac Black and other young voices I'd never heard of. I had no concern he would keep driving and take me somewhere dangerous, never to return even though now I was miles from my car in a city 48 minutes from my house. I guess this comes with dating for 6 years. WOW that long. Jeez. He leaned in once he parked and I was curious how this one would feel. There's something about a first kiss that is thrilling. So many questions to be answered. Will it be sweet? Will it be slow and intentional or sloppy and hurried? What about the size of his lips-- mine are small so I need ones a bit more robust. Will he use too much tongue? Will he use it or park it in my mouth like it's a garage? As the thoughts flooded, so did the memory that we had kissed before. Rewind 2 nights. His messages were persistent. We had conversed on snapchat from a mutual swipe on FB Dating (the most effortless dating app to initiate when plastered) but it never formulated into meeting. He claimed that he usually "drops" people that don't make time to meet up but there was "something different about you and I don't know why." Color me NOT flattered. That's more of a line than the yellow ones on 35E. I don't know if it was the peanut butter whiskey I was sipping or the loneliness that kept calling but I gave him my address and my bed time so he knew he had approximately 90 minutes to converse with me and then skedaddle. .....guess his country accent was rubbing off on me. It was much more pronounced in person and I loved the contrast. He dressed preppy and clean cut but had a country twang and a smirk that made one part of your brain wonder... Banter was instant and after a few hugs, he lifted me and leaned in. I held my breath and wasn't disappointed. His lips were much bigger than mine (kinda pouty) and admittedly softer than mine. I shewed him out of my house before it got too steamy and he hounded me about "a real date" until I said yes the following Thursday. BACK TO CURRENT DAY: The kiss came with his right hand on my left hip. I leaned in and enjoyed the big lips that made mine feel almost held, embraced. We stayed there for just a moment and then my hand fell into his fairly small but significantly darker hand and we made our way to the busy brick bar. The energy poured onto the street as we walked the stairs inside. I saw a sea of green across the open floor plan of the bar with Stars fans energized with the second period in full swing projected on the front wall of the bar. My date led me to the bar ordering himself a jack and coke while I took a chance with a strawberry daiquiri. I figured I should stay with rum and I was still kinda hungry from the sushi so I figured the drink could meet me halfway. We made our way to the pool table where he broke the balls? I am very unfamiliar with pool terminology here.... I'm much better with swimming pools. lol I have lessons I'm giving today, actually. Pool beans. When I leaned to aim the cue ball toward one of the solids, I felt his eyes. I looked back and a lustful look was plastered on his face. I was actually surprised it was not complete with drool, that's how deep this look was. "Can I help you?" I blurted, popping my hip out and greeting it with my fist, creating a triangle with my arm. Stirring, he shrugged. "You could." Agitated, I pushed the issue. "What? You don't want me to be attracted to you?" Taking a step back I replied, "yeah but there's more than just looks..." "You're so hot," he said, stepping toward me. I retreated to the other side of the pool table and took my shot and missed miserably... I guess like him. I sipped the worst daiquiri I've ever had, even pre-21 years and used that as my break from the tension he was single-handedly created. Begging the bartender to make ANYTHING else, I apologized and slipped him a couple dollars cash. I returned to my lustful date with Jameson Orange with a splash of soda. I played off his blunt stares and played the game.... and pool too. We played one more game and then agreed to go back to other section of bars where my car was awaiting me respectfully, not lustfully. I could hear the guy on Mr. You-Should-Take-This-As-A-Compliment's phone say, "yeah it's me and you know." My date replied, "oh your girl?" "Not really," the guy on the phone responded. Oooo I could not wait to get out of here. "Okay, we're headed there." He closed out his tab and then grabbed my hand and led me to the door. I mentioned work tomorrow and my long drive and he tried to coax me to stay. Once he closed my car door and he secured himself in his, is when he said it. "You know, I usually don't talk to girls that don't sleep with me on the first date." I looked at him like he just blew out my birthday candles and sneezed on the cake. "Then I'll happily get out when we get to my car." "No, but don't you think that means something that I'm still here with you?" For some reason, he took my dumbfounded face as permission to proceed. "I mean I have so much fun with you but sex is important eventually." "This is our first date and I'm just not that kinda girl," I barked. "I'm just saying you should take that as a compliment. Girls approach me all the time and I am staying with you even though you don't want to do that." And as if this statement wasn't repulsive enough, he continued with "there's just something about you." Upon getting to my car, a panic attack commenced.I would like to say that this next part is shameful and I should either omit it or have reconsidered sharing this entire story but it wouldn't be datesandcakes if I didn't tell the whole story no matter how it makes me look. Here comes the unbelievable response to the whole situation..... dun. dun. DUNNN. He refused to leave me with the panic attack happening. "What can I do? I don't want you to drive like this." I tried to explain that my attacks have no triggers and no estimated duration. He asked if I wanted him to sit with me and said he didn't care his friend was waiting so I nodded. He sat in the passenger's side of my best friend's ride.... oh wait, that's a song. He sat on my passenger's side and I KISSED HIM. WHAT THE GREAT SCOTT, MARTY IS GOING ON? The heaviness and struggle with my breathing continued so I took breaks and then told him I just needed to get home. The panic rode home with me and sat on my chest for hours before I could fall asleep. I wanted to end this post with hot independent girl energy saying, This is the only "Sale" I'm on:But... I waited a few attempts until agreeing on a second date (third meeting) with Mr. You-Should-Take-This-As-A-Compliment. Stay tuned for part 2 and the recipe.
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Season: Winter 2022 Location: Arlington, TX Mr. Trucking to Bucking was quick-witted and flirty and direct. All qualities that peaked my interest but inevitably lead to his downfall. Our first date, after weeks of phone calls and humorous story ping-ponging, took place in his town a couple minutes from his favorite watering hole. Okay, I drink like a fish so not a problem yet.... his approach to the whole date is probably what hammered the nail for him. "We're gonna have a good time obviously so you can spend the night and if you'd prefer, you can sleep on the couch." Unsure if I should react to him offering to put me on his couch IF I preferred or to him thinking that on the first date I was going to spend the night. Mama didn't raise no: fool, pansy, introvert, or lightweight. I popped back like a rubber band being stretched to its limit. Not to mention I was slightly frustrated in his assumption that I couldn't hold my liquor. I don't put myself in the situation where I lose ability in my cognitive functions, ESPECIALLY when:
His response was a car alarm at the flea market. "GOD. I was even hesitant if I should say that. No, I don't think you're kinda girl. Damn, so dramatic." I said something to the effect of standing up for myself.... chivalry... blah blah... feminism.... blah blah there's girls everywhere that spread like frosting but it ain't me. I have a feeling that's what he heard. I'm not sure if he couldn't find a replacement date in time or really liked the challenge to see if I could still be lulled to his original plan, but we still had the date. I'm sure you've got your gavel ready to judge lil ole datesandcakes over here but.... well, you would be right. Nothing really came of the date. SURE, I enjoyed the Korean BBQ, sake bombs, bar banter, and he even gave me a Harry Potter magazine he picked up in a truck stop off Highway 66 but.... guess he didn't find it magical because I declined his offer 3x for more shots. I had four and kept my ground. Then, ironically, didn't keep my eyes on the ground because I fell in a hole. LITERALLY. With my left sprained ankle. Dropped me off at my car with a hug and crickets. Oh gosh not real ones. That's a literal nightmare of mine. He messaged me two days later asking if my ankle was alright and I said no and then never heard from him again. Been reel. Better drop a new line. Would love to call this dump truck cookies but we didn't get to the stage where dumping could even happen. |
_ | Mister Nice Guy with a knack for spilling tea, Shy sapphire eyes with complexity Pierced from the past and imprinted with studs Dazzling with wit, not accrediting above Declares himself timid and toxic Intimate, but his heart, he locks it. Infidelity observer and others' habits Aspires for more than fucking like rabbits Intricate path wired a short fuse Between racing and friends: rather not choose Unique sense of style, options "shoed" Possibility potential not yet pursued Curious of his next cup to spill Content or another shallow thrill? Anticipating boiling tap water He'd be different if he caught her |
Dates and Cakes here addressing the fact that my posts have been sparse but not necessarily apologizing because, well, I've been distance dating. I've newly defined this word as:
Distance Dating (v): The act of not actively dating but lapping up the attention from any potential suitor within reason. In order to engage in this act, you must meet the person organically or digitally without the use of a matchmaker ie: married friend set up, dating site, classifies ad, ect. Also, the person must not be convenient in literal distance from your residence, engages in drastically different extra curriculars, or is how do you say... "out of your lane" in terms of "leagues:
- It physically makes me ill to rehash the details of him? hims? them?
- I've been trying to job hunt, soul search, and take up reading
- I've been recording many of them for the vlog (subscribe on youtube: datesandcakes)
But what we do know.... is I definitely have not met my future ex-boyfriend.
Today's post though is for the connection casualties that caused damage. Unfortunately, since this happens to be my type, this new Carly Pearce song is dedicated to.... well at LEAST 5 guys that come to mind. I didn't love any of them, but a girl can dream... and my dreaming is astronomical. Hell-- I just got back yesterday from a solo trip to Cabo! AND I'm already kicking around plans for the next adventure.
I like to think I'm getting better at this temporary thing. Sure, we live in a throw-away society but, never in my wildest dreams could I have placed myself in the same room as disposable. Middle school and college should have prepared me for that with some of the friendships that came to pass and quite frankly broke my heart. Alas, I continued to throw parts of my heart into things and encounters probably in 2018.
2017 was my first year dating around EVER. Single, cute, no kids, no divorce, and a listener? The possibilities were endless. The chase was riveting and my attention span matched the longevity of each encounter. It wasn't until I got tired of sharing my story (which had been spark-noted with a dose of mysterious) and wanted to be my quirky, loud self with one of the guys I was dating that I started to lean toward boy friend boulevard.
I'd like to say the forgetting is easier, because the goodbye certainly is. I'd like to say "next time is gonna-- I'm not gonna..."
Dedicated to: [you know who you are]
I am my mother's daughter
I watched her with my father
I saw it all, the good and bad
Should've known better than that
You found me at the right time
I loved you from that first night
Bet everything on what we had
Should've known better than that
[Chorus]
I gave you my heart, you let it go to waste
You made me do the leaving and you made me take the blame
Does it make you feel good, to make me feel bad?
Yeah, you should've known better, should've known bеtter
Than to break what you couldn't fix
Boy, what a shame what you'rе gonna miss
Why'd you go and do what you can't take back?
Yeah, you should've known better, should've known better than that
[Verse 2]
You sold me on a fantasy
Damn it, it all felt real to me
Thought you were the man in the photograph
Should've known better than that
Oh, I should've known better than that
2
[Chorus]
I gave you my heart, you let it go to waste
You made me do the leaving and you made me take the blame
Does it make you feel good, to make me feel bad?
Yeah, you should've known better, should've known better
Than to break what you couldn't fix
Boy, what a shame what you're gonna miss
Why'd you go and do what you can't take back?
Yeah, you should've known better, should've known better than that
[Instrumental Break]
[Bridge]
Still some nights, I'm crying on the floor
But I'm not sleeping in the bed you made, no more
[Chorus]
I gave you my heart, you let it go to waste
You made me do the leaving and you made me take the blame
Does it make you feel good, to make me feel bad?
Yeah, you should've known better, should've known better
Than to break what you couldn't fix
Boy, what a shame what you're gonna miss
Why'd you go and do what you can't take back?
Yeah, you should've known better, should've known better than that
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
A new emotion surfaced. Just then, on page 314, this character playing the part of a romantic, but is really deep down a conman, said those three words that I'll never forget were said to me.
Combination of words: one part cliche and one part desired for reasons unbeknownst to me. Words that has he sent them through my ear piece, affirmation rushed over me like the light breeze accompanying a big wave, just as it crashes on your anchored feet in Sullivan's Island sand.
"I see you."
Rage becomes me as a girl becomes a woman in a sea of confusion and cramps and blood. My memory fumes of the boy that strategically staged those three words to unravel my yarn barricade of protection from "boys like him."
I gripped a black ballpoint pen as if it were his phone, since I could never inflict real farm on such a stoic shell. His reputation precedes him and I was a con's opportunity of a different hue. Benevolent and beautiful, but with wavering worth. Perfect.
The other pages were third person and self-righteous, so to turn to a prologue with depth was irresistible. It was all about the wait, like string lights on a timer.
Reminders hidden through seasons and capitalizing on tapered male relations. Withholding is the guilt-free gun that provides the same overall impact, but with the precision men of war exist on. A being that never actually thrives but survives on numbing. Substances, seductresses when simple and serving, and luxuries consumed until used up and tired. Then, his exhaustion fingerprinted with disinterest, shrugs off his fixation and falls to familiar once more.
He's more hollow than he allowed you to feel. Your erosion of feeling is a discovery that you too "see him." You pray it's for the last time.
When they didn't seem to savor their first slice.
I thought some of these connection casualties would have left me empty, like a "shell" of a person.... Turns out, they were just shell-fish and now are new additions to "crusty" remains of relationships that could have been. You know what the ball of painful puns means....
Time for the KRUST
- 2 and 1/2 cups (315g) all-purpose flour (spoon & leveled)
- 1 teaspoon salt
- 6 Tablespoons (90g) unsalted butter, chilled and cubed
- 3/4 cup (148g) vegetable shortening, chilled
- 1/2 cup (120ml) ice water
Instructions
- Mix the flour and salt together in a large bowl. Add the butter and shortening.
- Using a pastry cutter (the one I own) or two forks, cut the butter and shortening into the mixture until it resembles coarse meal (pea-sized bits with a few larger bits of fat is OK). A pastry cutter makes this step very easy and quick.
- Measure 1/2 cup (120ml) of water in a cup. Add ice. Stir it around. From that, measure 1/2 cup (120ml) of water– since the ice has melted a bit. Drizzle the cold water in, 1 Tablespoon (15ml) at a time, and stir with a rubber spatula or wooden spoon after every Tablespoon (15ml) added. Do not add any more water than you need to. Stop adding water when the dough begins to form large clumps. I always use about 1/2 cup (120ml) of water and a little more in dry winter months (up to 3/4 cup).
- Transfer the pie dough to a floured work surface. The dough should come together easily and should not feel overly sticky. Using floured hands, fold the dough into itself until the flour is fully incorporated into the fats. Form it into a ball. Divide dough in half. Flatten each half into 1-inch thick discs using your hands.
- Wrap each tightly in plastic wrap. Refrigerate for at least 2 hours.
- Roll out one disc with a pin (preferably not bowling). Start from the center of the disc and work your way out in all directions, turning the dough with your hands as you go.
- Lay it down to sleep in a 8" pie dish and pierce center with fork multiple times (like these dates and cakes features did with your heart)
- 1/2 cup sugar
- 1/4 cup cornstarch
- 2 cups half-and-half
- 4 egg yolks
- 3 tablespoons butter
- 1 cup sweetened flaked coconut
- 2 1/2 teaspoons vanilla extract, divided
- 2 cups whipping cream
- 1/3 cup sugar
- Garnish: toasted coconut
Step 2
Stir in butter, 1 cup coconut, and 1 teaspoon vanilla. Place plastic wrap directly on pan to cover and let stand for 30 minutes. Spoon custard mixture into crust, cover and chill 30 minutes or until set.
Step 3Using an electric mixer, beat whipping cream at high speed until foamy; gradually add 1/3 cup sugar and remaining 1 1/2 teaspoons vanilla, beating until soft peaks form. Pipe or spread whipped cream over pie filling. Garnish with toasted coconut if desired.
https://www.southernliving.com/recipes/coconut-cream-pie
Season: Winter 2020 Location: Salt Lake City, Fort Worth, and Denton
Although I love the chase of guys beyond my zip code and often timezone, from November to January of 2020 I took the pledge that I would give up dating to re-frame my priorities and... date me?
So, I let a couple more short-term-shorties into my messages and heart with the attitude that we aren't dating or pursuing each other and they loved the idea.
Yes, there was a dose of sarcasm there.... we have always been a culture of rapid consumption so waiting is .... well unique and foreign. Yet, I have Mr. Body Boost, Mr. Temporary 2 Step, and Mr. Type A Charleston that have made their way through the busted filter of not-dating-for-2-months-for-Jesus.
*rolls eyes* Stephanie!!! It can't really be that horrible being alone with your thoughts that you have to occupy your head space with temporary subject changes.
Welllllllll, in the order they were named, we began dancing the dance DatesandCakes is notorious for. I could perform the choreography in my sleep.
To be elaborated on...... soon.
Although my favorite Disney princess has always been a 3-way tie between Pochahontas, Mulan, and Belle, I have always wanted to be referred to as "Belle with her nose in a book." Even if someone somewhere just said it once.
I used to spend hours in the Mount Pleasant library, 4 minutes from my house, collecting travel books, cookbooks, and devotionals for rent. There was one time when I even felt the eyes from the security guard on me; not because he thought I slipped a book in my bag without checking it out, but with interest of some sort. Then again, it could have very well been in my head. ;)
Fast Forward to my library adventures in Texas post-heart expenditure: November 2020.
Heart Expenditure (noun): The state in which one's heart has let too many "potentials" in, only to be underwhelmed. In this datesandcakes definition specifically, it was allowing 4 guys into my heart space in the span of 7 months. If you're thinking the math doesn't add up, you'll be happy to learn that insecurity was my common denominator. All of them retreated and I was left with the wreckage of myself and my own undoing in November 2020.
Instead of living out the definition of insanity, I tried a new hobby to distract me from dating and breaking down. If you've ever sat in a room with me, you'd know within seconds that I do not. sit. still. So, reading novels has always been a struggle, even in school with AP classes that required summer reading. But, here I was, looking, hoping for something new.
- That's SUCH a compliment that you pegged me for a reader and a deliberate reader at that
- There's a reason I grabbed fiction murder mystery versus relationship/self-help reads... I want to know how it feels to see the protagonist continually put themselves in poor decisions and yet make it out alive; I know my mom and KC have both wondered that after reading or hearing about a handful of my craziest dates.
- Am I easily distracted? guilty. Am I a hopeless romantic? guilty. Have I self-sabotaged some of the good ones? guilty. Do I flee from comittment because I fear it could feel like a life sentence? also guilty. So.... what was that about me being innocent? ;) Wouldn't make for an interesting read or viewing (if tuning into the vlog) if I wasn't truthful even if it makes me look bad.... haha you should see me hungover!
- If you choose to ever pick up these INCREDIBLE reads, you will learn each woman has her secrets and stains that no amount of bleach could wash. I am not above this.
These books actually helped me realize how many of the guys I've dated are and will always be, strangers. I knew more about these characters and how they face fear, mortality, morals, integrity, and greed than the four from the pandemic.
But being totally shallow here (because deep down, we all have been at one time or another), these two titles scream some of my insecurities that lead me to date these guys that were not fit for me. AT ALL. I wanted to be a pretty thing on his arm and gosh, did I want to be seen. But the more carona cases reported, with maps stretched as far as the screen can capture, the more people I realize are out there that could be that match. Maybe my pretty thing is in Morocco and I've been too distracted with the wrong corners of the compass.
I'm alone and could not be happier.
.... I don't know if that's gasp worthy or cliche but.... today, at this moment while clacking this blog out, pressed against a heating pad when I should very well be asleep, I'm at peace with saying that. :)) The cakes will still be baked, the vlogs will still be recorded, and God knows the attention will still be yearned for, but I'm hopefully going to approach it better. Here's for hoping and for new hobbies!
Single Ole Bird Left With Pieces
- 6 Tablespoons salted butter
- 8 cups mini marshmallows
- 12 cups Rice Krispies cereal
- Non-stick foil
- A light-weight cup (I used a red solo cup)
- Cooking spray
- White paper
- Clear tape
- Tooth picks
- Reese's Pieces or whatever "stuffing"you want
Instructions
- Cover the cup with foil and make sure the non-stick side is up on that as well. Spray it well with cooking spray.
- Lay out a large piece of foil with the non-stick side up next to the serving platter.
- Melt your butter over medium heat.
- Spray a mixing spoon with cooking spray and stir in the marshmallows until they've melted.
- Remove pan from heat and stir in your Rice Krispies until well combined.
- Pour this mixture onto the piece of non-stick foil and allow it to cool for a moment or two.
- Working fast, divide the Rice Krispie Treat mixture so that there's 2/3 of it to make the body and set 1/3 of it to the side to make the wings and drumsticks.
- Starting with the 2/3 portion of the Rice Krispie Treat mixture, take a small amount of it and create a base about an inch thick on the serving platter.
- Place the cup on it's side onto the base so that open part of the cup is slightly off of the base where the turkey's opening will be so the majority of the cup is laying on the base.
- Build the rest of Rice Krispie Treat mixture around the cup to create the turkey's carcass with the cup in it's cavity (once this is set you'll be able to pull the cup out and stuff it with candy). Make sure the mixture around the cavity isn't too thin. Be sure to press the mixture in well so that it's not too loose when it dries.
- Next, take the other 1/3 of the Rice Krispie Treat mixture and divide it into four parts.
- Use each part to mold two drumsticks and two wings and set them aside and make sure you press them into shape tightly. (I kept these on the a separate pan lined with non-stick foil- keep in mind that you'll want to shape the wings so that the thinner back parts of them go up in different directions since they will be on either side of the Turkey).
- Cover everything with the nonstick side of the foil and allow it to rest and set for at least 30 minutes in the refrigerator (overnight is preferable).
- To make the bone end of the drumsticks, take strips of white paper, and fold them in half length-wise.
- Cut half way up along the fold every half inch or s and wrap it around the ends of drumsticks and secure with a piece of clear tape.
- Use toothpicks to carefully secure your drums and wings to the turkey (this can be a bit tricky and you'll need to rig it up the right certain spots depending on your drumsticks and gravity).
- Stuff the turkey with candy and serve birrrrrr birrr birrrr birrr birrd bird bird is the word.
You Only Live Once (YOLO) so 2 years talking and 4 days in my bed and he's "just living for the moment."
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.
- us
- my person
- I see you
- how could guys treat you that way?
- you are such an amazing woman
- I can't believe a woman like you exists
- I'm not just trying to sleep with you, I JUST want to spend time with you
- Now all I'm missing is you
- I'm just living for the moment
- I want to see you again, but I'm not made of money *after buying a $400 hat*
- Sorry, I'm not ready to marry you
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,"
Fried Banana and Almond Maple Porridge
- 1/2 cup steel cuts-deep oats
- 1 1/2 cups almond milk
- 4 tsp maple syrup
- pinch sea salt; can't you see how salty I am?
- 1 tbsp coconut oil
- 1 tsp brown sugar
- 2 pinches cinnamon
- 1 banana (ripe, like the sting of this long-term interaction)
- 1/4 cup almonds (chopped suey like my faith in guys, again)
- 2 tbsp almond buttered-me-up
- In a sauce pan add steel cut oats. Bring to medium heat and toast oats stirring often until it they create a nutty aroma (3-5 mins). Then pour in almond milk, maple syrup, and pinch salt.
- Bring steel cut oats and almond milk to a boil, then reduce heat and let simmer. Cook oats stirring occasionally for 25-30 mins, or until cooked. Optional to add splashes more almond milk while cooking for desired consistency.
- Meanwhile, add coconut oil to a skillet and bring to med heat. Sprinkle pan with coconut sugar and cinnamon. Cut your banana in half down the centre and place cut side down on the skillet. Fry each side for approx. 30s-1 min, or until golden brown.
- Remove bananas from skillet and add chopped almonds. Toast almonds in skillet stirring occasionally until browned (approx. 5 mins).
- Divide oats between two bowls and top with fried bananas. Drizzle with almond butter, sprinkle with toasted almonds.
I selected a recipe with a fried topper to symbolize the flash-in-the-pan that we were. I'm sure he'd cringe at me referring to him and I as we. I'm still hot like the popping grease that I became JUST LIKE every other girl he's talked to. Gave it up, only to be left empty and loathing myself.
They say hate and love is a fine line, but I've never heard anyone apply that to themselves; I hate myself for letting him in (in all ways that apply).
Obnoxious interest there with me.
Mental gymnastics
Recyclable fears sort plastics.
Coy connection of parts
Bullseye wit, teal darts.
Strictly fun, strictly forgotten
Serial dater story: rotten.
Country and coastal flare
Headphones for accent blare.
Delectable with every syllable
Nectar interest, spillable.
Prints stained with more than smoke
Rugged ocean collar bloke.
Blurring freckles like cinnamon
Sharply seasoned by his skin.
Forbidden fore contrasting morals
Soft silver in his almond portals.
Giving light to soul yet explored,
Disguised by ground earth adored.
Reputation route well-known;
Unraveling bows of hearts on loan.
Long lashes and long conversation,
Held until sexual alleviation.
Lazy Boy, symbolic possibility
Recline relation simplicity.
Short of stock to invest,
Another leg pair to impress.
Horizon is quilted with clouds
Overcast of doubt, he's proud.
Realistic opening as an umbrella,
This season is one I mustn't dwell.
After standing up for myself like this, I should've known, the crumble was inevitable--
Comfortable in your habitat, than i should've known better
Umm HELLO, why do you think Carmen Sandiego is such a successful game?
Why do you think "Where's Waldo" is a best seller with less than 70 words?
Most hearts race for a little challenge; it's an adventure sprinkled with thrill. Waldo might have already found me.... we'll see if this next one can keep up. ;))
"I think that one of these days," he said, "you're going to have to find out where you want to go. And then you've got to start going there. But immediately. You can't afford to lose a minute."
-J. D. Salinger
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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