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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.
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Mr. Struck By Lightning was EVERYTHING. I know, I know, past tense tells us where this ends before it begins AND how many times I have I felt, blogged, or screamed that before? This story is stale and is in need of a ziplock or re-baking. It all started like they all do... :( Guh that feels as awful as it sounds. Then again, so does Nickelback yet they've won over 27 awards including "worst band." How's that for "How You Remind Me?"  This guy was intelligent, caring, generous beyond belief (mostly drawn from his profession choice), nurturing, found me funny (requirement), nerdy, honest (maybe a bit too much off the bat but still hit a single ;), and ambitious. He cooked for me on our first date, which was all too humorous since I detest pasta, which I know is unamerican and anti-italian and mama mia! I should be hit with a meatball but... it's just not my jam (or peanut butter). Anywhooooo, he is Italian and saw this as a challenge to show off his skills in the kitchen with his grandmother's recipe. He plated a lemon garlic pasta with arugula, panchetta, and Parmesan. He was so excited when his fork plunged into his masterpiece while I.... couldn't contain my taste-bud tango. Looking at me with his big blue eyes he beckoned, "What do you think?" My face said it all. I tried to mask it but Mardi Gras was not yet upon us. He saw the truth like a polygraph. "Oh, you really don't like it?" His face sunk. I couldn't help but laugh and utter, "I mean, it's good.." while I twirled my fork in the spaghetti. My hunger and strict upbringing of "finish your plate" and "when someone makes something for you, you eat it" compelled me to finish the bowl. It really wasn't that bad by the time I scrapped up the last bite. I did however feel a little like Lucy with Vitavitavegamin.  "You know, this stuff really isn't that bad." Well.... it surprisingly made the date all the more comfortable. We were ourselves and I lapped up every moment. I became quickly drunk on his honesty of his divorce, the cleanliness of his home that you could tell wasn't just a deep cleaning before the girl comes over, and the way he looked at me with those deep color-changing eyes. He was like a mood ring that I just HAD TO HAVE. Somewhere between date number 1 ^^ and date number 2 where I also spent it at his house and later spent the night.... I found myself cropping this guy and pasting him in my future plans. Not just the weeks leading up to his birthday in March but beyond. To infinity.... yes, I was buzzed ;)) Another thing to note: we were never drunk. Never. The most we had was two drinks on the first date and the second, we were just consumed with each other. It was freeing and consuming all at once. So what went wrong? This is datesandcakes afterall.... something always doesWell, like chalk on concrete, my boundaries with those I care about are colorful, fun, and washable. My best friend, whom I've mentioned countless times and was featured on the blog several times is my constant. She's dated with me, nursed the ending of the relationship we thought "was it," lost our grandmothers, moved three states together, raised the cutest damn bulldog you've ever seen and made this thing called life more tolerable. The bestie and I danced, drank, and dreamed our pain away for 16 years now. So, to say she's not involved in my love life is a bold face lie. But... to what extent is healthy? Confession session: I still don't know. She's fueled with past potentials of mine a number of times, inevitably ending in well, the end. So.... with Mr. Struck By Lightening, I was stoked when she gave me her seal of approval about him. She loved his passion for scary movies, his openness to answering questions about if he truly was divorced, age of his daughter, and intentions with me. Excessive or is my bestie just thorough? Maybe that's revealing my weakness of not gathering the courage to ask some of those questions myself or maybe I'd prefer living in the aloofness fantasy of not knowing. Or maybe... I should have let things build over time instead of condone an interrogation... but, you have to admit, the seal is pretty cute.  In the 7+ hours gushing on the phone and 29 hours that we spent engrossed in conversation and electric "like," I grew incredibly fond of this man and really REALLY thought it was going to blossom into something soon, like a flower on speed. I don't know plant terminology... not as "green" as I should be I guess *rolls green eyes* Well, it all was at stake (medium rare) when the bestie questioned his motives the day before date number 3. First, she interrogated me, pressing me about details about his daughter and why we haven't gone on a date in person and then about the details about his credit cards, which were his reason the third date MAY or may not happen, contingent upon the status of his flagged card that was being resent to his house hopefully by the date of the date. Haha, thank you comic relief. Since I couldn't provide specific details to the bestie, she decided to verify herself since her faith in men had been recently corrupted due to multiple acts of infidelity from her long-distance boyfriend. That catastrophic event was discovered days before me and Mr. Struck By Lightening's date. This is where it got ugly.  OH heavens no! This was actually where it got sexy ;)) Mark of his passion after date number two. Again, my attempt at comic relief because I'm distraught about the ending of this one. You heard me! DISTRAUGHT. Usually I leave and never look back... this one, well, didn't make it so easy. After the interrogation about the cards and yelling between him and my bestie, they both apologized. It was strange to watch and honestly, I couldn't believe a couple things:
Naturally, he rescheduled date #3. He felt "a bit defeated" and needed some time to "dust himself off and pick himself up." All to say: he's human and is also probably trying to wrap his head around the fact that it actually is butter. lol Ugh. Next day went by and the conversation took a terrible turn via text. I was a bit tied with work so wasn't able to respond too much into it so called before dinner. He responded a short, "okay... sorry you feel that way" to my call of "I really thought you could be the one but now I don't know how we can continue from here." And he didn't fight for me.  So... I blame myself for allowing things to get this out of hand where it became a 3 person relationship. He probably feels he dodged a bullet and can't believe he got matched with such a crazy... then again, part of me feels he wasn't as into me as I thought since he was able to quit me cold turkey (or chicken). Guess the Stephona is curable... and yet, I still yearn to hear from him. Potentially the biggest SMH moment of datesandcakes history! Thoughts are welcome... 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: There are several dating attempts that have yet to make the blog due to:
But what we do know.... is I definitely have not met my future ex-boyfriend.  So many opportunities for bad, unsuccessful, unsatisfactory dates.... so, buckle up. 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.  Is it wrong to want to wear mismatching pj's, get hangry when dinner is delayed more than an hour, and belt classic rock on the radio when going on dates? Sigh. THAT'S what earned me some heart wear and tear. Sure, I've "learned" but damn, this "lesson" is a rocky road with no turn-around's. 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..."  So, I'll continue to whip up datesandcakes vlogs and blogs and jump on planes (or out of them #adrenalinejunkie) and stay sweet. The hardest part is not SCREAMING that they are all the same.... because well, prove me wrong ;) Dedicated to: [you know who you are] [Verse 1]
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  I'm attracted to accents, beards, height, humor, and unfulfilled potential. The last of these is the one that gets me into trouble.... and quite possibly earns me a fraction of these datesandcakes stories.In no way am I saying these guys are not "doing the damn thing" we call life and looking good doing it. What I'm saying is, I look at each one of these guys as what they could be to me and what we could be together. Selfish, right? Instead of basing it off their arrangement of words, gestures, and follow-through (or absence of follow through). I lust over the story-- "our story" that we could tell others how we met. I live for the chase and impossible situation that only we together could make possible. I pretend that time-zone conversion will be a conversion of the soul. Okay... that one was too far.  Probably 96% of what is manifesting between this guy and I, (whether it's been 2 weeks or 3 days) is sheer fantasy. This is not to be confused with the perfume, Fantasy by Brittney Spears, who is free now. YOU GO GIRL; 2007 is finally over for you! I make assumptions and expectations with absolutely no scientific evidence. Ones like:
I figured a baker's dozen is a good place to stop ;)) You can't read between lines that aren't even drawn in the sand. Number 11 and 12 are probably the biggest jokes of all, at least lately.... It's like I didn't understand science or the scientific method AT ALL. Stephanie, your hypothesis is continuously wrong!
 One would think by now, I would have this dating thing under "lock and key" I'm so consumed with the beauty of what it would mean to be a beautiful structure that people from every land marvels at, that I ignore the lack of building materials, motivation, or color to make such a relationship happen. I lose sense of reality for a little bit and act like Dorothy or Alice, allowing only my imagination and shiny things to guide me. There's been SO manyyyyyyy examples of this in my "dating." The current shut-down status of the world begged for the quotation marks because it seems globally we are shutting people out since life as we know it has shut down and rerouted our day-to-day existence. I cannot tell you the last time I actually felt like I "dated" someone. Seems lonely, but is only at times I'm not pushing myself for better. Actually, datesandcakes' science of attraction and downfall of all the connections I've had in the last year (let's not bite off more than we can chew ;) could really be summed up to one painful truth. It's a personal problem. As arithmetic taught me, I'm the common denominator!   So, here's to working on me and maybe my next hypothesis will be have some ground to stand on. You hear the man! And what better pair of flavors that exude the "laws of attraction" than.... (drum roll please) Don't be peanut butter and jealous... as always, I share the recipe. I will say, that picture was for comedy purposes and this is the one DatesandCakes will be making:
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.
I read the book to the left in four days and the book on the right in five. They were RIVETING. I felt alive and accomplished and was providing my own approval for a change. One common theme (besides murder muhahah! What can I say? I always loved Nancy Drew even though it took me weeks to finish one because of all my "distractions") quickly surfaced that men should not be trusted. I'm sure you're thinking, how convenient that datesandcakes reads books to support her serial dating trend and is, like most women, an innocent bystander.
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.  For cereal, if I do ever write a book or series of books, one of them HAS to be "The Four From the Pandemic: How to Date During a Pandemic and Insure You Leave Pieces Behind." 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 Personally, Reese's pieces are my least favorite of the Reese's family (the candy-coated sheep if you will). They have no chocolate, which seems like an impostor thing to do and m'nms are better so.... that's how the candy crumbles! BUT, with this post, and the introduction of my coined "heart expenditure," I found this candy suiting and this recipe humorous. Y'all know I enjoy a good joke and I often "roast" myself so....  Ingredients
Instructions
 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
 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," |
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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