Minding my own business, which is usually how an affair starts, I attended a theater show put on by individuals with special needs. It's an organization sponsored by the company I work for and we try to attend all their affairs. It was humorous and enjoyable, per the usual and after this particular show, a co-worker and I decided to get drinks at the adjacent bar. Lo and behold, her hipster boyfriend with the most perfect man-bun and his roommate, with the startings of a sleeve tattoo, blonde wispy hair, and a nicely trimmed beard were waiting our arrival, seated parallel at picnic bench outside under string lights. Apparently, he knew that I would be there and I was incredibly clueless... per the usual. The way his sky blue eyes addressed mine through his opaque frames, I knew I was in trouble. He rose to his feet when my co-worker and I reached the painted wooden table in the courtyard of the brewery. "Hi, [co-worker], Hi Stephanie, I'm Auburn." Reaching out a hand, I returned the gesture with a smile. My eyes studied him as he sat down, noticing his height was a satisfying 6ft something. Seated next to me, he offered me a drink and pleasantly surprised I said, "umm that would be lovely." Returning with a mango something or another, I can't begin to recall the plethora of topics in which we gravitated. Discovering a mutual fondness of sour beers, we exchanged first-hand encounters, both sour and sweet. Possibly an hour later, my boss approached our table with a drunken glow. As she made it to the table, Auburn rose to his feet and introduced himself with another firm handshake. Faster than any of the other drinkers at the table could offer a greeting, he was on the balls of his feet grabbing a chair to pull up to the side of the table. Everyone at the table was pleasantly surprised, especially my Southern Charm boss. She made an eyebrows raise towards me instantly. It was unclear if she actually intended to sit at our table, but how could she possibly resist such a chivalrous gesture? Once seated, she flashed a smile my way and joined our conversation. Several moments later, she moved to the next table; I was in a daze. Fully aware that I was moving and had no intentions of starting anything, serious or casual, I sat in a dream. After one more beer, of the pomegranate variety, my coworker suggested the leave. We chugged our beers and rose to the occasion. Traveling back to the parking lot, he inquired if he could walk me to my car. Instantly laughing, I blurted, "Okay, but you can judge me cuz my entire car looks like a clown car stuffed with so many things; I'm surprised a little clown himself isn't in there!" "That's okay," he smiled. Accompanying me to the other side the parking lot, he made an advance for my hand. Warm and rugged, mine fit perfectly into his. Our conversation trailed off as we both seemed to be caught in thought. Arriving at my silver Honda names Horcholo, for its sweet nature like the drink horchata, yet with it's tasteful rims and tinted windows, it certainly Leans Like A Cholo. Before I could introduce him to my car is proper name and its origin, he brushed my bangs out of my eyes and whispered, "Can I kiss you?" Gasping for air, because apparently I've been holding my breath, I whispered, "yes." One of the most delicate kisses that have ever touched my lips became my reality. Then, like an encounter before the online realm of swiping, he requested my phone number. Beaming, I relinquished it almost instantly. This is contrary to my reluctance to release such digits. I'm usually on some hard to get streak. But tonight I couldn't resist. As if cupcakes aren't enough trouble, this one stands out |
Slept in last night's clothes and tomorrow's dreams | The road outside my house |
Bring home the boys and scrap scrap metal the tanks. Get hitched and make a career out of robbing banks; Because the world is just a teller and we are wearing black masks. "You broke our spirit," says the note we pass
Take our tears and put them on ice; cause I swear I'd burn this city down to show you the light
You're just the girl all the boys want to dance with | Am I more than you bargained for..... yet? |
I'll be your best kept secret and your biggest mistake. The hand behind this pen relives a failure every day.
He introduced me to his friends, invited me to festivals, made beignets, slept over a couple times.... the list goes on. He was incredible, but I wouldn't let him make me his. At one point during our "dating season," during one of our countless heart-to-hearts he looked deep into my eyes and told me he could see that I didn't think I was beautiful. It was the most raw moment I've had with even counselors of mine. I'll never forget it.
That's the thing I've really learned about nice guys: they're everywhere, but not always where you need them to be. Physically, geographically, emotionally, mentally, even blissfully. Love, like life is about reactions to supernatural experiences-- any minute, any year. Love is so much more than finding someone that checks your boxes, makes you smile, or downright respects you. I haven't been able to wrap my head around it yet, but I'm finally starting to enjoy the ride.
Beauty encompasses this world, we just have to be intentional when seeking it.
Not all endings are quite that sweet.....
This is barbaric and I refuse to furnish a brownie recipe to this pan of ends..... since all these good guys from this series ended not in
happily ever after.
Nice guys are all around, you just need to search for them.... sometimes even in the past.
Well, looking back, I found a poem I wrote for one of the top 3 greatest men I know. He takes the cake for this series... that's why his dessert is mini cakes so he can share-- we don't want one blog post stealing all the shine, making the other posts jealous. Why? Because, then one post will start poking "Looking" and "Looking" will say,
"watch your fingers."
One post will say, "Oh, I've gotta finger for ya."
"Looking" says, "You're about to have one less."
"Oh, yeah?"
"Yeah"
"Wanna take this outside?"
"I thought you'd punk out. Come on!"
And now you have this full-blown brawl of two blog posts and there's no referee because Stephanie can't login and the fans have nothing to read because Weebly says: "Please stand by. We are experiencing some technical difficulties." And then the fans become disgruntled, because they don't want to stand, while others believe big brother is watching because "how else would Weebly know I was standing at my computer?" And then I would huff and puff and.... we would all fall down.
So, to avoid this, ring around the nice guys, you get a mini cheesecake and YOU get a mini cheesecake; you all get mini cheesecakes!
Thanks for not saying we need a break
Thanks for listening and trying to understand my twisted mind
Thanks for keeping rational even though my words weren’t kind
Thanks for opening up- your soul and then your home
I’m tragically sorry for our beautiful relationship that was almost blown,
Shred to pieces from a materialistic piece of mind, your girl straight trippin'
How selfish and cruel, those pieces of your heart, I was slowly chippin'
I’m sorry a thousand times more for practically belittling your efforts
But no matter what was said, all u have given emotionally, physically, and mentally has NOT been severed
I appreciate this trip and every trip we take
I appreciate every meal out and every meal you make
I appreciate your smile and your overwhelming courage to let me in
What hurts most about what I did is that I love you by every hair of your. chiny chin chin
Can’t believe I hurt you. I caused pain to my most dear
In retrospect, I may have ruined our whole year
But you calmed me and reassured me, it will be alright
I’m so sorry my materialistic selfishness caused that fight
I’m sorry I “got used to” your charm and generous daily portrayals of emotion
After my harsh words, I hope you can still feel my devotion
For you, I truly have a heart full of love
I'm at peace in your arms with a hug
So I’m sorry for letting the commercialism of valentines completely blind
My eyes to the real man before me who has devoted all his time
To making me happy and enhancing my worth
You don’t pressure me with physical needs or glorify your man turf
Your respect for me is sensational and your love for me could move mountains
I’m sorry I messed up so badly because I know on me you were counting
I hope I didn’t let you down too much
Last night was very rough
And I will try to make it up.
The past has more relevance than many pay tribute. Having a grasp on your past, your family's past, or even your country's past, is detrimental to its future. The knowledge you earned from the pages of the past can build or crumble ambitions for the future.
Looking back is vital, just be sure not to make a nest there. Now THAT should be a key chain! BAM!
As promised in the PAST (2 minutes or so), here are the coveted mini-cheesecakes
- 1 cup graham cracker crumbs
- 3/4 cup + 2 Tbsp. sugar, divided
- 3 Tbsp. butter y'all, melted
- 3 blocks of Cream Cheese for the pictures!, softened
- 1 tsp. pure vanilla... pure like genuine gentlemen
- 3 eggcited about this recipe
- 2 cups blueberries
- 1 Tbsp. lemon zest of the past
- Heat oven to 325°F.
- Combine graham crumbs, 2 Tbsp. sugar and butter; press onto bottoms of greased mini muffin pan. If you wish to cook them all at once, you will need two of these pans.
- Beat cream cheese, vanilla and remaining sugar with mixer until blended. Add eggs, 1 at a time, mixing on low speed after each just until blended. Spoon over crusts.
- Bake 25 to 30 min. or until centers are almost set. Cool completely. Refrigerate 2 hours.
- Top with blueberries and zest. If only relationships were this precise....
On a Safari Man-Hunt
I’ve changed my motive in regards to finding someone that:
- checks off all my boxes
- is in a certain status (that has either been ingrained in me through societal standards, or my strict Catholic parents’ rearing).
At the beginning of this journey, two years ago, I had a much different motive; I had a much different drive and polar opposite expectations. That was 2016. Think of your expectations have changed since then-- the quality of food you'll drink, the number of liquors you will mix on a given night, the physical appearance you have, the physical appearance you are drawn to.... the list is like the energizer bunny... a LOT can change in a year. Imagine how drastic the changes are in two!
Since then, I have degraded to the worst possible dating site out there. I refuse to pay for them because I have several friends that have received just as much, if not heightened disrespect and degrading actions from guys on a paid matchmaking site. Meeting guys at bars are also a tossup… And it becomes more seldom that they actually approach you. I’ve had some guys tell me first hand, if they met me in a bar, they are not looking for relationship so even if we hit it off, they would’ve never taken me out and taking me seriously. I don’t really know where that came from and why that’s become such a standard, but I wish someone could do something about it.
I'm reluctant to admit a guesstimation of my "sample size" of all the guys I've gone on a date with but it surpassed 100 months ago... So, in the a hundreds or so guys I have gone out with, there of been a handful of good ones that deserve their shine. I’ve made a couple posts about ones that treat me well.
- There was the guy I met on the airplane that gave me his jacket on the post: 22A
- The guy that pulled the Patrick Swayze move on me in the pool. Hoisting me above the water and serenading me to a Justin Bieber song.
- There was the sweet military man from Oklahoma who drove two hours to meet me and took me to Six Flags in Arlington and didn’t even kiss me at the end of the date. He told me he was really into me and didn’t wanna mess it up.
I want to boldly say that nice guys exist. I have two exes that are incredible human beings; their contributions to the world, thus far, has been paramount. So if these phenomenal two men exist, there’s bound to be what at least 100 more? OK fine. Maybe close to 1 million. Where do these rare beasts reside? You can often find them in friend zone’s and developing their craft. Whatever it maybe. If it’s video games, paint-balling, writing, conducting, composing, auditioning for rolls of a lifetime, or even caring for a elder loved ones — they’re out there with a colossal heart, just waiting for the right girl to stumble upon them.
So here’s a toast to the nice guys that finish last and here’s a series that I hope can have some real girth.
My posts and my entire blog thrives on the mishaps and outrageous things guys say or do to me. The dates that don't cut the mustard are ones that were mediocre or we both agreed there was no match to light a spark but surely, there has to be good ones... right? The good ones are usually overcast by their finale. Sure, dates 1 through 4 were riveting and mutually enjoyable, but on date 5, when I discovered he's married, or gay, or is a felon with two strikes, everything prior becomes irrelevant.
Quite Frankly (or Tomley or Harry), I believe it's best for both me and you to not waste internet space with "the good ones." Maybe a metaphor or two or a cute story here or there, but the grueling fact of the matter is, I'm still doing my own thing and none of the greatness has stuck. What a pessimistic view... Regardless of the realism shoes I'm trying to fill, I believe holding on to that little ray of sunshine, even if it lasts shy of 24 hours, it's important to treasure. So no further ado, I'll share my ray of sunshine this week. It wasn't a date, but it certainly meant more than the last... I don't know, 38 dates I've been on.
I delved into this writing thing for me. My mother raised me by example, that if you make others happy, you in turn will be happy. So, setting out to do things for me hasn't always topped the charts. But finally I broke through. I moved to Charleston to exist in near the beach and then I began writing. Feeling all that I felt and a fraction of what I've experienced, I shouted it to the World Wide Web and anyone that would listen. Completely liberated, I released hundreds of dates stories onto the internet unapologetically. The reactions people must have within the walls of their mind, never to pass judgment through a screen, or maybe even in person, but I'm sure there's judgment there. Does she sleep with all these guys? Is she another Taylor Swift? She'll never be as successful of Taylor Swift- at least she has money... this girl's a social worker. It could go on and on. I'm confident in that. But, one thing sure to raise anyone's confidence, is a genuine compliment.
A man with stature, whom seemingly spends every walking minute reading and writing nonstop, like the airfare Southwest advertises but never has any seats available for. He probably never even sleeps because that's how fine-tuned his writing is. He takes time to follow even the little people. And then takes it a step further. He's a complete stranger, whom has published more than three of my pieces on a publication beyond my structured dating blog (you know, the one with recipes paralleling the pansies that continue to treat my heart like a pinata). Well this guy, this writer, left the longest comment I've ever received and dare I say, the most heartfelt? Especially coming from a man (No, I'm not some member of Women He-Man Haters Club... But they have quite the track record with me).
I know it makes me a bit uncomfortable when people address the content of my writing as if it's a facebook post, rather than taking it for a piece of my art, so forgive me for being that guy for just a tiny moment (as you already know I love your writing): This is just an honest comment from someone who reads your writing but doesn't really know you (so I might be completely ignorant here). You're smart, you're funny, you're creative, you're more than pretty, you're interesting, you make people smile, you strike me as a real pleasure to be around, and you seem just full of life. Guys are idiots. There is absolutely nothing I can gather from your personality, intelligence, looks, or anything else about you that isn't absolutely fetching. Like I said, guys are idiots. You, on the other hand are quite remarkable. I just thought you should know that.
A guy with a briefcase of nothing, but a heart full of something.
Paper clipped ideas and drafts of a vision.
Labeling me as inspiration and typing me as beyond typical.
But he doesn’t see me, not really.
He sees what will sell; what will spark conversation and buzz of his name.
Unlike my laughter buzzing through a phone line, new vibrations exclusively fuel him.
I’m this week’s project but not for improvement — that would suggest I possess cracks and catastrophe crumblings.
His intrigue painted a play outlined in mystery.
A scene of respect with absent spotlights; for he fears what they’ll reveal.
Casting me as his traveler, I was his something, but never his everything.
Existing, but never present.
Gone, but never absent.
Naive beauty, none of this was for you.
He’s had an ad out for “her” all along…
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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