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
0 Comments
I could write about New Orleans for the rest of this blog but.... I've got quite a few more unbelievable dates and male encounters to share in Europe, Arabian clubs, and breweries... Here is the finale of my 3 week Nola venture with two broken toes.Since I've always referred to New Orleans as one of my homes, I strive to avoid the cliches. Only drinking at the postcard bars, getting wasted on Bourbon, and only coming in town for Mardi Gras. Well, I definitely broke one of these this night. Live music to me will always make a city. That was one thing I enjoyed about Charleston, even though some of the genres of music weren't necessarily my cup of tea, add a little whiskey or cocoa tequila, and any cup of tea could be worth sipping. ;) I signed up to volunteer at the voodoo Fest and made a friend there that hooked me up with another connection to music. Not only could I enjoy seeing Bring Me The Horizon, Brandi Carlile, Moon Taxi, and post Malone for free, but she offered me an opportunity to see Five Seconds of Summer and Chainsmokers where the Hornets play. I'm not particularly a fan of the Pelicans but it's across from the Superdome and I've always wanted to see those smoke in the hot for Australians play! I know some people classify them as like a teeny bop bands, but I think they're great! Although I try to dislike Chainsmokers and some of their mixes, some of the words kind of get to me. One song I grew appreciation for when I went to Europe, 2 months after the concert let's take away. "Your heart for take away." Instead of to go since that's a common English and Irish term. My favorite, twisted line is: " Before I love you, I'm going to leave you. Before you're someone I leave behind I'll break your heart so you won't break mine." After Day 3 of Voodoo, I met up with my cousin who is a flight attendant and is based out of Miami! We had no clue either of us were in town! Well, with a little faith, trust, and cajun dust, we ventured to Bourbon St. Beads flying in the air, hand grenades discarded near the gutter, and music filling the streets... this was Bourbon. I'll be damned if I didn't make friends with every doorman on the street and I was DD! The bachelor parties were going strong and we managed to pick up a light-up tambourine on the way of our self-directed tour. No phone numbers, no drama, just dancing in the street in good ole New Orleanssssss Harmless, but hoppy conversation 3 weeks is a long time when you're not working and don't have anyone to hang out with. Most of my cousins were occupied, aunts and uncles had their own schedules and lives, and it's not like I'm going to sit on my phone the whole time I'm in my favorite city. So, I researched some bars with great happy hours that I would enjoy going to and made my way to Uptown New Orleans. I parallel parked on Canal Street (thank you home days for making that skill a reality) and took the streetcar, which made me totally feel like a local, and I made my way to frose'. Okay, I actually had two, but I thoroughly enjoyed the atmosphere of the wooden bar, the vanity lights oh, the cute manager that kept passing by because it was his job, and the accent of course. I wrote in my journal and created poetry about the atmosphere of this quaint bar. The bartender intervened for casual conversation and then I closed my tab and proceeded to a tight little bar off of Oak Street.
The wine and beer house was not exactly a great kept secret since most of the seats at the bar and on the patio were taken. I perched up next to very attractive brunette bluechew a hockey game on the screen directly in front of him, slanted down for his vision. After ordering a delightful sour beer, I glanced at the screen and noticed it was the Dallas Stars thing. "Dallas huh?" I started. "Yeah, I'm from there," he replied. "No way," I exclaimed! Instantly our conversation ignited. He was from Coppell which is five cities over from where I grew up. The competition was just deep, engaging, and pleasant conversation. He later revealed he had a girlfriend that he met LSU and is living with now here in New Orleans. Thigh is what you think my response would have been, but I wasn't really face. Sure, he was cute, but that didn't belittle the conversation we had. An interesting night where again I close the bars and then made my way back on the streetcar with my Hopalong boot. Just because he didn't push the lines of pastel lace,
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 Didn't know it affected you.
From eastern standard to central standard, from a coastal suburb to the capital of the Lonestar state, my dating life affects you. After each call confessing the toxic nature of the next "catch," you sit disgusted, yet introspective to ensure such powerful reactions are warranted. Your thoughts were never carried across the phone lines we tightrope daily. Thoughts like: It's her life. She's grown. Surely she knows this is-- does she know? Is her judgement that endangered? Is her worth extinct? Does she know she's better than this disgrace of a man? Her track record pretense. It breaks me that she casually excuses his manipulative behaviors, again. No, she's not foolish naive enough to allow the same individual to repetitively... Is she? Disappointment. His guilt is always loaded
And his words are ammunition His pressure strikes my chords like a trained musician He afflicts more than pain yet holds expectation Of mercy-dipped compassion --free of allegation A mirage of infinity miles in the distance My true heartbreak harbors in my stream of least resistance Let's Pretend:You don't still have some of the best years of my life. I've had as much fun sneaking around in any setting than that dorm with you. Our first kiss didn't shock me to my core. Electrifying. Grr-grrr-grrrease lightening Our last kiss was something I thought would happen-- like we would die holding hands like in The Notebook. The end was only rocking-chair-rocky and that I was fair to you. I didn't keep your letters; every last one. I didn't hide the 3 scrapbooks full of memories from myself. I don't feel a sharp pain deep in my abdomen when I see your name pop-up on my best friend's phone. I've forgotten: the passion, the tears, the ambition, the phone calls, the encouragement to pursue our dreams, the endless laughter, the insiders, the adventures, the parents (all 3 of them~not including mine), the differences, the concerts, the chocolate, the plans... and how God had a different one in mind. The "me" we allowed each other to be were beautiful. I don't think I'll ever see that girl again and I can't pretend that's not a loss. A burial of the most powerful force I've encountered yet, and the dirt is still under my painted nails.. Sometimes, I acknowledge that's all I have left.I heard this song today and couldn't help but interpret it as his final thoughts. Maybe I'm no Selena, but boy did these raw words circle her in red. For awhile now, I've been trying to resist from checking on you. I know you're thriving and, I guess I'll have to leave it at that.Heat is out in the oven tonight, so no chance at 350.You stopped my world that 30th of November at Edmund's oast. Under the string lights with sour beers in our hands and something unfamiliar in the air. You infatuated me with your chivalry and intellect; your humor and your warm smile that radiated through your blue eyes didn't hurt either. Our Adventures continued to as we stroll through Charleston narrow streets in the rain, frequently reminding me I was beautiful, in case I didn't believe you the last time you told me. You inhaled my perspective on the world as you exhaled things that could crush you- should crush you, but haven't. You stood in confidence that you really do live a great life and you never miss an opportunity to exude appreciation.
You opened up to me like a motion detector door and felt he's in my presence. You led by example the peacefulness I should strive for. Your ice cube eyes begged me to abolish the worry, even if just for a moment in your presence. I wish I could have; we know I didn't. Although two seemingly different species of bird, we both flew. High from the ground with each other around, we paid little mind to our different size feathers, color of our fluff, and shape of our beak. Together, we touched clouds like that late afternoon at Tattooed Moose. I've never found a dive bar so romantic- so perfect. Oogling and oogling at each other like high school sweethearts, paying no mind to graduation or out-of-state college offers. Eyes locked, hands laced, and hearts intertwined. Day was perfect. The day you made me yours, the day we ignored the statistics, logistics, and fresh scars. That will always be one to remember. It's stitched into my feathers and it will soar with me till time is no longer traceable. You've affected me. You're Sensational passionate, unpredictable, hilarious, sensible, considerate, ambitious, indestructible, perspicacious, and altogether remarkable. I'm sorry I couldn't be what I agreed to be while nestled in your arms, diving into your tidal wave eyes. I'm resisting what I'm certain is a good thing. You are worth more and I know it will find you. This isn't goodbye. When the wind gusts, you can find me. We'll be flying and may share the same vantage point Terk says it best, Dates and Cakes OFFICIALLY has a vlog! Not only do you continue to receive outlandish but non-fiction dating stories from the bubbly, punny, and gutsy gypsy, BUT you get to see her live and in color with all her hand gestures, eye rolls, and cackles (at her own jokes) free of charge! This Youtube thing is certainly a learn-as-you-go kind of thing because although my year of birth classifies me as a Millennial..... technology isn't my go to. Actually, this blog started out as scribbles in journals. Yes, red margin, black lined journals; bounded with potential for venting, humor and self-actualization. I know presently, it's a trendy thing to say you're "an old soul" but... I still write friends letters or thank you notes by hand and write 90% of my poetry with a swift pen to paper motion. Okay fine-- sometimes I use thin markers because I want to really capture imagery in a certain piece.... but you get my jest. And I think spending time away from a screen gives you zest you may have been missing from your life (as a text notification blinks like grandma's blinker she was unaware has been clicking for 3 intersections now). So, you may have heard of "please excuse my dear aunt sally" in math for order of operations, but since I'm notorious for spicing or sugaring things up, I'm going to ask you to excuse your dear Steph for her poor editing skills. The videos may seem a little chop-suey.... because they are. I'm sure I'll get better if I just believe! But I'm striving to record each one as natural as possible so it enhances the genuine factor. This world is polluted with edited moments, faces, and perceptions, so I refuse to add to it. As always, these will continue to be about actual dates that happened to me or in the rare occasion, a friend shares a wild date. I know what you're thinking, "Steph could never pull off being a blonde." WELL YOU KNOW WHAT!?! You're right.
She didn't trip and fall into love |
AuthorChef Steph cooking up trouble. If she can't find anything real, she bakes real good sweets. Chocolate really may mend a broken heart... Archives
April 2022
Categories
All
|