Indecision of familiarity
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.
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After standing up for myself like this, I should've known, the crumble was inevitable--"But that's the thing... You're not showing by actions or emotions. So I'll have to go on his words. And we don't know each other enough (even though we have two years of messaging), to take each other's word as gold. The destruction I've experienced in relationships and seen in marriages... There's no way I'm going to even lean toward something serious w/ someone who isn't going to prove it every day that they want to be with me. And I wouldn't expect anyone else to settle for less with me." Skittish and unmoving with weather forecasts of new weather Comfortable in your habitat, than i should've known better He said he wasn't "chasing me around the globe" yet, he loved that I was a gyspy in the beginning. THAT'S how the cookie crumbles. Ahh, oh so familiar. 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." Still figuring out where this is, and that's half the fun!
Throw Back to Fall 2016 when the dating bonanza all started..."Take down paradise and put up a parking lot" plays in the backgroundMr. Height to Cause Flight was a 6"2 goofy guy with a beard. Sweet, sensitive family oriented guy in search of a wedding date. He was one of my first matches that I turned into a meeting, while being on Plenty of Fish. I know what you've heard, but I met some real gripping guys on the dating site that's been around since yahoo chatrooms. #vintage #OG He took me on a walk-and-talk type date after early dinner in Southlake Towncenter. He seemed like such a genuine person and we had so much in common. A decent kisser and his height was certainly a plus. Mama always said find someone good to look up to. Come to think of it now... I don't think this is what she had in mind. We scheduled another date in the heart of Fort Worth at a cocktail bar on Magnolia. I have to admit... I double booked that particular Saturday. Plans for an after party would open the floor for two possibilities: if the date went well, he could meet my friends, but if it didn't, I could dance the night away with my girls. I take back-up plans and exit strategies seriously. THAT WAS WHEN I BEGAN STANDING UP TO GUYS. I'm not sure if it was more the fact that I hadn't received much attention from guys at this point in my 26 years of life or I just hadn't been involved with one's that I had to deem unworthy. Not that I'm putting myself above them but I'm building myself up by saying there's ways you don't deserve to be treated. It's easy to list Nicholas Sparks and Disney fairy tale expectations for how you wish to be treated but it seems a little dark to list things you simply won't tolerate. It wasn't easy or very empowering to say (in more than just words) that they blew their chance.... but, this was just the beginning. Spoiler alert: the date did not go well. I mean, this is datesandcakes afterall.... usually the bad dates are the ones that make for the best recipeThe irony here that I claimed this (back in 2017 when I reflected on this dating encounter at the tail-end of 2016) is when I started standing up to guys. What happened? Four years later and I'm still getting tread on. My, my, my. History does repeat itself. What "went down" was actually almost me. Jokes aside, I was not really feeling the date anymore. He continued with me to the next bar where I was supposed to meet my friends. He got himself a beer and slumped on a bar stool, while I made my way to the dance floor, the distance of two four-top tables away. He had a perfect view as I smiled back at him from my twerking stance with my bestie. Just kidding, I didn't know how to twerk at this point in my young life. One of the times I looked back at him, I got a clingy, yet creepy vibe from him. It wasn't quite a stalker creepy vibe, but more than a Halloween spooky vibe. My bestie beckoned over the music, "he gonna bounce or?" I never asked if she experienced the same discomfort, or if she was just reading my body language. I rolled my eyes in agreement, finished the Shakira song, and made my way, four strides to his table. I forget how I got him to his feet, but I politely tried to convey that this date was over. I walked him back to his car as a peaceful parting. When I went in for a hug before leaving, that was when he grabbed me and kissed me. His left arm wrapped around the top of my shoulder and his right arm strapped against my lower back, locking his hand on my hip. I pulled away where there was about a head space between us. His lips moved toward mine as I tried to pull free from the abrasive hug. His left arm slid to my forearm and held a tight grip. Trying not to panic, I shot him a look right before twisting my arm free. His right arm reached for my belt loop as my unsteady voice projected into the dimly lit parking garage, "Stt-top! Let go!" "What?" He coaxed. I lunged backward as I saw the eyes of a couple assessing the situation from a few yards away. I nearly jogged away from his car stammering, "what the FUCK" under my breath as I zipped across the garage and back to the sidewalk in front of the bar that my friends were awaiting my return. I was in disbelief. Utter disbelief that I just lived the beginning of a CSI episode, yet luckily made it out before they called in the investigators. I originally wrote this piece as a "Me Revolution" but, honestly, this was a survival story. Grant it, nothing happened, but I was genuinely afraid. I had shit to do in the morning and snatching would've really impeded with my plans. Humor is my coping mechanism for most incongruencies, but for cereal: no person should ever make you feel like that: unsafe, panic-stricken, and trapped. This was more about us both having alcohol in our system. This is a real risk of dating strangers. He called me a week after the incident befuddled why I hadn't returned his call. After explaining my side, he refuted my words as sharply as he had refuted my desire to stop kissing the week before. "You know what? I don't want to talk about this anymore. I didn't feel safe and I have to go," I spoke firmly and clearly. A smile crept across my face as I hit the end button and my screen dimmed. I exhaled. I was tired of "being polite" in uncomfortable situations. That call was the beginning of respecting and looking out for me. I had mastered dismissing the guy that put his social needs before me, and now for guy that puts his physical needs before me-- dismissed. This girl is a fighter💪 in more ways than one. I'm again, breathing heavily reliving this as I punch the ending of this encounter into my keyboard. My friends were there but there was nothing they could do. I was alone and he was the least likely (in my poor judgement of a call) to put me in a situation like that. I guess judging a book by its cover continues to teach its lessons... This dessert could only be paralleled to: Boxing BagelsIngredients
For the dough
The next morning: Remove the pans from the fridge and let sit at room temp for 1 hour.
You're just another player in the game of operation.
With your Ivory fingers on the tweezers, Your red lips are a thin line touring the connector box. The power source is a perfect formulation of numbers. Numbers so tightly wound, Their sparks of electricity bring vulnerability. I don't slight you from holding that back. Our relationship would be a disaster so, It only reinforces your surface interaction. I fell right between the lines, so you could leave me for dead.You didn't sever it, so you could keep your options open. Allowing myself to be one of your options was my mistake. And as you carry on watching pole dancers and conversations sliding into your illuminated view, I'll continue fuming for allowing this to happen. Learn from DatesandCakes, you're NOT an option, you're the solution-- hell, you may well be the purpose. You're the fire and the fight that makes it all worth it. You're to be pursued and wooed. You're the warmth that is otherwise unattainable. You are valued, cherished, treasured, and damn well are enough. I'm the kind of girl that loves a story, particularly one that I am the protagonist. Thrilled by it all, the initial invitation into my life, the alleged unique connection, and the tension. I tiptoe on coals as to not burn the entirety of my sole. The touch is inevitable and intentional... But never quite sensual. Maybe for a moment, but it fades like paint on a front door. The compliments are currency and my time scenes expendable. Investing in the wrong interests and compliments. Even the radio blurts this message:"Am I only a lab rat? Something you can test things out?" ~Dissolve I've found myself in unbee-lievable situations where it's no wonder I end up bruised and left with only their stinger protruding from my freckled skin. It's not that I needed to feel someone to feel something... Or maybe it was. Reconnecting with an old Flame with his knowledge of everything that's going on is still more than a mutual swipe after closing time. I'm drawn to connections that don't require a tower signal or battery to illuminate the topics discussed. I long to be selected-- for someone to say, "I NEED to know more about that ____." And eventually formulate the conclusion that he also needs that spunky person in their life. He didn't need liquid courage to approach me, or the pressure to "lock someone down" by last call. Even the hope of starting a story at a bar became bleak when pandemic lock-downs were mandated. The simplicity, but possibilities a night out offers seemed so distant from March to June across the country.A dark desperation spread across the single world of inconsistent daters and many of us grasped pens and the hope left to write a dating story. Not one for love, and God knows not one forever, but a story; a connection with someone when it wasn't permitted naturally for the unforeseeable future.My standards became flexible and I attributed it to "open-mindedness." I entertained:
Refusal to be left behind. Refusal to not be capable of my full potential. Reusual for final submission — admitting defeat to spontinuity. This writer is going places alone and for those that refunded their ticket, they'll quickly learn, this companion will be hard extremely hard to replace. Open-Minded Watermelon Cake
https://howtocakeit.com/blogs/recipes/watermelon-cake A sharp connection, a stylus in a groove
Rhythm and words quite familiar A melodic explanation of a mood Track 8 presumes her a filler Then an anthem not for sharing Lyrics establish loyal pursuit One-and-only self-preparing Steel trust now accessible loot A flash of light with notification His active dating app chorus Revealing wilting patience B flat taunts: there was no "us" Flashbacks of a similar cadence Side two seals it with kiss Force his memory into just a dance Unfinished record, inevitable dis Sure showed the record player Leveling up the harp and heart string Casting her skies shades grayer Farewell to another shoal fling Remember the romantic comedy "How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days?" Well.... DatesandCakes has her own real approach on it!Guess I'll have to continue to play the cards I've been dealt.Catfishing is when someone posts an attractive picture of themselves that is no longer an accurate portrayal of them, current day. Sometimes, they even go to the extent of using someone else's picture! For the first time in Dates and Cakes history, this happened to me. I was minding my business, baking as usual when a new add from snapchat flashed on my phone. I glanced at the screenname to ensure it wasn't something like grinder4lyfe or puffNpussy and then the bitmoji icon and accepted the request. For those less than obsessed with Snapchat, you can create your own avatar on Snapchat to resemble you.... mind you, this is typically how that person sees themselves and isn't always an accurate portrayal. Why would you prose such a statement, Stephanie? Could you be foreshadowing something? After conversation commenced from the add, I had a feeling I should ask for a picture. He stated that we JUST had matched on Tinder so there were 4 pictures for me to look at. I toggled to Tinder in the time it took me to rip open a bag of sweetish fish, when I saw a slightly nerdy, but fairly attractive man with blonde hair and a neat beard. I returned to the conversation. His nerd side was exemplified when he geeked out about Lord of the Rings and Game of Thrones (I have seen neither). I know, I know. GOT is on "my list" to watch but, I don't really sit still long enough to get wrapped into a show and I fell asleep in the theater for Lord of the Rings. I actually enjoy seeing someone nerd out on something that is important to them since I do the same with classic Disney, all things Joker, and Harry Potter (think I'm a Griffinpuff). The words exchanged between him and I mixed like melted butter and melting marshmallows. As I continued to multitask, I received another snap message, which took my focus off Mr. Bottom Feeder for a few seconds. When my eyes returned to the list of screen names, It took me at least 30 seconds to figure out which one he was (sorry not sorry? plenty of fish in my sea ;) When I finally found which one was him, I asked for a picture to save in the chat. He sent one already loaded on his Tinder. This is where my suspicion rose. "I like your beard," I commented politely, "but can you send me a current one?" The picture he sent "live" was HARDLY even the same picture as the ones on Tinder. There was at least an 80lb weight difference and an unruly mane on his round face. My knee-jerk reaction was to abstain from being shallow and then I thought, WHAT THE FISH?! Not only are there plenty more in the sea, but if I were to have put a picture later than 3 months ago, then I would've been written off or scolded. Confrontation for the FIN! He tried to blame society and the shallow focus and I was having NONE of that. I said, "Look, if guys are able to swipe left or leave a date with a girl that is not his preferable circumference, then I can certainly do the same. This was dishonest and I have nothing left to say on the matter." I left in a splash. Dessert should be something fishy.... lol maybe with Swedish fish or imitating? Ingredients
Spring 2020Nothing like fresh pain to bring to life, words of a song you never paid mind to. This song has been out for about a year and was showed to me by my best friend. I didn't conceal my disinterest in it, yet she said it helped her. Another quote out of context that illustrates my suspicion about the motive for ripping this relationship up from the roots sounds something like this: Where'd you learn how to act like that? But don't worry, I don't wish I were bread.Today's suitable recipe is pain d’épices |
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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