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: Denton, TX How I broke my own rules, thus breaking my own heart: 11. Who I became while fighting with him is someone I didn't recognize. "New 'tude, who dis?" I started raising my voice, became prideful, and was much sassier than all my teenage years combined. 12. My other rule was allowing a guy to yell at one of my friends.... even he yelled at her first. Ummm... that rule seems a little.... guh, maybe my lack of rules broke my own heart 13. Second guessing my phrasing is a reflection of him... I'm driven almost 110% by emotions so I don't second guess many of my words, they encompass me almost instantly and dive from my little lips. Proof God has a sense of humor by giving such a chatty Kathy tiny lips. But, during "the end" he continually used my words against me swearing my phrase was x verbatim. First I fought back and then I apologized for making him feel that way, coming off that way, or racking my brain how I could have said something I had little recollection or intention of. 14. Repetitive guilt plauged me in our last phone conversation. Guilt for my actions, inaction, feeling I had to remedy and take accountability for errrything. Yet he only took accountability for raising his voice at my bestie and for "being playful" with the naked comment.
Proof I didn't guard my heart even when the music was undeniable; you can't mistake Nickelback. Lol. I rooted for his basketball team Friday while at my favorite live music bar in Charleston. Sure, he's haunted my dreams and no other guy is even remotely appealing right now So with the Nickelback playing, I reached back out and swallowed my pride (I'm sure he was wondering if I did). He made me feel like he was doing ME a favor to listen to my apology in person. His hesitancy was 5 claws to the leg from a black cat you were just paying genuine attention and affection to. What the... French toast?! So again, I'm going to take myself out and I guess get back the respect for myself I lost. And get a vlog readyy. Lights... Maybe because I lost my center for a bit. Haha understatement of the year. Yes, I'm aware it's still the first month of 2022. I did things so out of character for me (constant texting like a 13-year-old with a pink Nokia and staying home from the club) and I need to get back to building itineraries instead of fantasizing roots. I'm no tree, I don't do that. I need to learn when to leaf well enough alone.... we know hpw datesandcakes loves a challenge. 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
So, this Dates and Cakes' post will pick up the fork in the road and visit the places that plated the best love affairs. Food is an art that draws me in with the aroma, colors, and presentation. The first place that came to mind when thinking of food I fell in love with was actually the food in the Salt Lake City... I just returned from a solo trip there (yes, even during new spikes in our Carona-induced world.... Dos Equis gets no love). I know this sounds like a crazy confession, but they had Venezuelan food, true Mexican mole, and great sour beers that they made in house! What more could you ask for in a mountain town? Well... it's near a mountain (or two). Since I started in the states, it's only fair to mention the C'est si bon food that IS New Orleans; they probably have the best food in the country. How can I make such bold claims? Simple, I'm Cajun. San Francisco had great sourdough bread and baguettes. While we're here, I'll throw two more your way: Charleston has some great southern food and have revolutionized brunch. Then, Hillcountry and the metroplex in Texas has great BBQ, tacos, Tex-Mex, Mexican, and burgers.... "Put some south in your mouth" as the wise ones say... But how elementary of my palate to stay in the states for good eats? My heart fluttered with the flavors the central of Belize provided me. I loved the food in Belize because it's a humble country, so all the citizens I encountered were friendly and welcoming. Their food is phenomenal and they cook it right in front of you out on big pits. Sizzling meat Greece also had a really good food because they fry their cheese oh gosh! Belgium has good food too! When I was in Brussels and Brugges, I just ate my way through those cities. This pastry was something we stumbled upon while exploring Brussels by foot. It was a cream cheese tart with middle eastern influence (we were in an Arabian neighborhood/district kilometres outside city center).And obviously Rome has really really really really really good pasta. Like the homemade tortellini I could have eaten without the sauce but then he put hand-grinded pesto sauce and I seriously thought I was going to go into a food coma. Prague did not disappoint with their fairy tale cottages of sweets. Unfortunately, their staff's customer service was no fairy tale. Madrid has GREAT tapas and Bordeaux has incredible bread. Even from their grocery store like one croissant was like equivalent to $0.85 and I almost wept, it melted in my mouth. Two words: STREET MEAT. Where? Budapest and Brussels
"Put a fork in me, I'm done!"
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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
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