So, I don't have any dates .....to report since I've genuinely been dating myself (music festivals, craft beer, diy fashion, beignets.... there's no cap to the sweetness), but I have some pretty entertaining conversations to share over the next couple posts..... Of course this boy met the first requirement of having blazing blue eyes. He kicked things off in a flirty manner, with sexual undertones, naturally. He was quite beautiful, yet quite aware of that surface beauty. He sent me 14 pictures, all selfies of himself in different poses and shirtless. Sure, to many, this may be a dream but all I could think was.... gosh I hope he's not on some strict diet, burgers and fries are a delicacy for me.
The more words that were exchanged, the less interested I became. This boy was dense as a sack of bricks. My vocabulary is not complex, yet he kept questioning words I was asking. He needed clarification for practically everything! I felt like I was tutoring again. Then, he sent me a picture that wasn't in the Inbox, so it was a live one that you had to click out of to make it disappear. Instantly, the anticipation of a dreaded dick pic consumed me. For hours, I never opened it. Turned out, it was just another harmless selfie..... It was quite liberating for me to walk away from a guy with washboard abs. This total babe was built like a brick house with a box of matches and armful of candles for electricity; at first thought, that seems romantic, but the wick will burn out. I walked away because I wasn't interested, not because he thought I wasn't enough physically or quite literally too much physically since he had polished six pack. But, he was less than suave and then unfriended me!
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Sometimes what I find myself telling guys is something I needed to hear myself.So, you've heard about endless dick pics and possibly read about them on my blog several times before. .... but you haven't heard my approach to reduce this kind of unwanted assault to my eyes: Okay here's why I'm weird about pictures. Because I'm more than just a tight ass and a beaming pair of green eyes. Like I understand looks are important to you but at the end of the day, once I relinquish pictures of my body or engage in stuff with my body and the person is not the least bit interested in me as a person, then it's meaningless and makes me feel really empty. So, I refuse to stop making myself feel that way. There are like 4 billion dudes in this world, so... no need to be anything but who I am to impress just one. Odds are, other(s) will react differently. Or insightful; stay thirsty my friends.Remember when I said I dumped the dating site and I still had a few leads I exchanged information with before deleting it? This 24-year-old was the last one left, and funny enough, he looks like this hottie pictured above. Thank you male Vanna. To start this date off, I was HELLA late for a not-so-important-date. Hardly time to say hello, goodbye- I was late, late late! How could I have been so disrespectful? I warned him that I NEVER get my hair did (felt oh-so glamorous) so I was unaware that coloring your natural hair took hours upon hours. Once my mermaid hair was vibrant and flip-worthy, I called him to inquire of his location and profusely apologize. He was surprisingly understanding and sent me a location to meet where we could walk on the beach. I'm not a girly girl that would normally complain "oh my hair!" but... I did JUST get it done. Not only would no one else get to see it in its shiny glory, but it wasn't even worth it! The conversation was prompt, and to the point; boy was on a mission. Yes, he was merely a boy. The way he asked to hold my hand under the full moon crafted an eerie air around us. I began mentally planning my escape route when I felt a sense of desperation in his tone and body language. Since I had no restraint to hold anything back at 9 o'clock with a stranger on a humid, no-breeze night on the beach, I made a comment that he seemed a little "girl deprived." "I am girl deprived," he confessed. "But... you must be boy deprived if you haven't had a boy friend since December." Mr. P Deprived had the audacity to What? Are you kitting me? You are desperate for any cat. I should have called him Mr. Thirsty, but it was beyond that. After this painful and haunting encounter, these were the messages exchanged: (get the popcorn) I obviously had no concern with proofreading that last message since it should have said "them" instead of "him first." As if this date wasn't enough of a joke, his last response is definitely mic-drop worthy: "It takes too much time. Too many girls are on those apps for self esteem boosts from random guys. I refuse to wade through it anymore. 😂" I'm sorry.... but you looking for pussy cats is acceptable? Hands down he was one of those guys that swipes right on EVERYONE to "increase his odds." If this isn't a wake-up call, I don't know what is.Get yourself an ice cream sandwich before your judgment melts like mine obviously did. What a sticky mess!Bras strung like Christmas lights beaming proudly weeks into the new year, country twang in the air, and the sound of beer bottles being poured and sloshed became our immediate future.. This was our introductory to the notorious Flora-Bama Bar. The blonde best friend and I were at it again as we explored our new watering hole. It had the atmosphere of a larger "Billy Bob's" with an Alabama attitude. I was designated driver and.... you guessed it, she was designated drunk. After getting her numerous Jack and Cokes, we made our way to the main stage where of course, we stumbled upon an attractive, well-dressed man. Would it really be blog-worthy if there wasn't a story to tell ? A strawberry blonde-haired man made a comment in our direction when someone stumbled by, baptizing the three of us in a sticky red liquid. The conversation ignited and the flirting and competition commenced. It was hard to read which of which one of us he was in to. Not just initially, but the entirety of the night. His parents were close by and the man later identified as his stepfather, made a winced kind of face while scanning my blonde best friend's cleavage and short shorts. Her and I both read the look like chapter 1 of a World Lit. class. The man in pursuit introduced both of us to his parents. He kept making jokes that well, "y'all have already met my parents..." like it was a unit kind of thing. Then, he made a comment that we were both gorgeous and naturally, I deflected it (just the compliment towards me. The blonde bestie is hella gorgeous). He went out of his way to reinforce his compliment. To which I retracted again, because that's just who I am. Not a compliment fisher... I have very little patience for fishing even though I've dated enough fisherman to feed the crowd of 500 where Jesus performed the miracle of 5 leaves and 2 fish. God knows I need a miracle-- but don't we all? He seemed genuine and offered to buy us drinks. When I informed him of my appointed position of responsibility for the night, he respected it, but his smile faded ever so slightly. During one of my blonde best friend's potty breaks, Mr. High Maintenance Insurance (good name right? Just wait for it...) gazed at the stage while a likely intoxicated blonde in a black dress did a seductive dance. Before being escorted off the stage by security, she slipped off her bra and hung it among the other hundreds on one of the ropes overhead. Turning to me, Mr. High Maintenance said, "now THAT girl is high-maintenance." Smiling, since I am textbook, ink-line, and sinker the opposite of that, I nodded. His blue eyes would have made my bra fall off if my best friend wouldn't have returned a moment later. [I will not lose all control when peering into blue eyes. I will not.... oh gosh!! *knees buckle*] As the night progressed with two country-fied girls, a cute 32-year-old, and his parents, the music became more and more appetizing to a dancers heart. As my hips continued to sway, my innate two-stepping skills (that were practically branded in me from my 16 years calling Texas my home) took precedence in the moment. Watching this closely, Mr. High Maintenance Insurance grabbed my hand with a flick as I spun into laughter and eventually his arms. We danced for 3 or 4 songs. And then, like a buttermilk pancake, he flipped me. My face definitely said it all. My mouth agape, I gasped for air. "Oh, was that okay?" He smirked. The blonde best friend joined us on the dance floor as we returned to standing position. He took this opportunity to request both of our phone numbers. As the band continued to play, she revealed to me that his mom ran into her in the bathroom and informed my bestie that she had the best boobs she had ever seen. What? While I was still processing the information, he tugged on her arm lightly and they made their way to the bar. Damn. This all happened so fast, and the guy goes to..... the girl with mom-approved boobs. Oh, and in case you haven't had the privilege of reading up on the blonde bestie, there is a link below. Some of you may even have encountered her, or girls like her. Don't get me wrong-- she is one of a kind, but she requires a lot of attention. A LOT. She admits it. But... definitely is classified by guys and herself as HIGH MAINTENANCE. Yet he told her he was into her, even though he told me that the girl that hopped on the stage and threw her bra up on the rope was high maintenance. Am I missing something? And I know insurance.... I SELL IT FOR A LIVINGI was at a loss for words and the affection or chance with this man, I consulted a couple of my guy friends about the situation and the jury is out: It was a form of manipulation-- insurance if you will in case things with the bestie didn't work. It was explained to me like this: Steph, that's like a guy telling an obvious intellect that "dumb girls are not his type" and then going for an airhead. If the airhead would've have gone for him, he already laid the groundwork for the intellect. Insurable GlazeFor the man full of hot water, he is simply a sugary glaze on a strawberry scone. Mix one part hot water with four parts powdered sugar. It drizzles well on low and high-maintenance scones of all kinds.
Tangelo (n): hybrid between a romantic and a rat. Every word he or she composes is zested flavor, but upon delivery beyond a screen, they fall short. Their intentions are truly rotten and remains lurk near sewers. No subtly in this post. This man must have set a record with how quickly he made me bitter. I know, I know. A guy starts spitting perfectly arranged words at you behind a screen on a tired dating app, should hold very little relevance. But call me vulnerable. Call me naive. The first is probably more true. But, for some reason unbeknownst to me, I believed him. This guy was super cute and seemed genuine. Or maybe I just wanted him to be. He opened with a warm compliment about my smile, in which I jokingly replied was only appealing because of the many toothless smiles in this area. He cracked up, but reassured me. Great sense of humor too, check. It was as if he was playing a game of Dance Dance Revolution. Synchronizing arrows to the illuminated foot square. He couldn't wait to meet me he couldn't stop complimenting me, he was sweet, and he was interested. I knew deep down that he could very well be spitting the same things to other girls, but I didn't think it would text so close to home, again. Should I continue the story or do you already know where this is going? He had also been spitting almost identical messages of affection and longing to my blonde, bff roommate. I felt like I was in a 2008 R&B song.....She said they had talked while I was in Spain and he stopped talking to her because he got a girlfriend. He found her again on the site the day after we realized he was a word Romeo, and began zesting the conversation with hopeful compliments. Immediately, she addressed the situation and he said he missed her and made amistake makingthe other girl his girlfriend. Meanwhile, back at the office, I was slammed with work and didn't check his snap message until later. When I did, it was erased. I guess I'll never know what it said (more fragrant fluff, lacking genuine girth). I inquired, but he refused. He didn't inform me of the happenings, my bff did. So... when I was filled in on the details, she said they had a date established. I'm sorry.... what? Why was her appeal to someone whom was quick to dress up a stranger in messages, but hoped to undress a girl he "should've picked" the first time? In conclusion, he did just that. At dawn before their date, she asked honestly what his intentions were. She specifically prefaced that if it were for sex, she wouldn't be mad, but would just would like to know. She didn't have to squeeze him for information... he pealed the romantic facade right off. "Just sex." "You asshole!" *block* All that was left was his pulp.... Since this is the most unappetizing flavor of the week, the dessert should illustrate that.....I could NOT think of a better dessert. Each ingredient is another line that "sounded good" for him to throw at some innocent girl.
Okay, okay.... I know neither my roommate or myself fall in the innocent girl category, but hey! This still doesn't warrant Mr. Tangelo's actions.
Will I ever learn with musicians? How many times can I get burned from the same fire? But this one was 41. But this one had been hurt so many times before. But this one was so sweet and taken with my sarcasm and wit. But this one loved my eyes. But this has all happened before.... All too familiar. He has like 17 followers on YouTube and sent me some of his songs three-corded songs. Cool, so his musical talent hasn't really gotten to his head yet.... ehh, okay, it's a 50-50 shot. I'm sure it's helped certain reassurance of one head... He worked nights and mid's on and off, so talked to me when he could but swore he was gonna work on coming to see me from Panama City Beach. The weekend my best friend's parents came in town, we made our way to Panama for one night and two days. Naturally, I told him of this occurrence and he seeked excited to see me, but he worked 10p-6am. I've worked nights before so I totally understand it's hard, but if someone is going to be in your area that you allegedly like from 2 hours away, I would find a way to at least stop by. While on the 2 hour road trip over there, I noticed messages were opened and left without attention even though his snap location showed him on the beach!Wait- you checked his location? I mean... if you're not going to respond to meme, I at least have a right to see what's so much more entertaining ;) And THAT is why you keep some of your social media preferences discrete. I only had my location on when I was in Spain because no one on my media could gather the means to get to me. Well, before accepting the L, I called him one last time. Left a voicemail and then deleted him digitally and hopefully emotionally in the days to follow. Instead of meeting the latest homeboy, my best friend and I spent the early morning with this Captain Crunch. He chased a wave that almost capsized us all. This dessert is actually for me regarding my poor judgment in even giving him fractions of my time. I was 1/2 out of luck and 1/6 reminiscing other musicians and how they strummed my heart strings. This is called Rasberry Fool because the truth of my dating life and taste in men is a little tart.Look. I can take a joke; my humor can twinkle with Disney princesses and then get grungy with a pinch of raunch in two blinks. Dark humor is sometimes my essence and other times (majority) I'm pun-tastic, but I'm hyper aware of my audience and strive not to offend anyone or cast a tone that would make the environment uncomfortable. I'm sure you're aware and could name a few of these misguided and misplaced jokesters. My two in this case are called Mr. Pull My and Mr. Middle Finger. No, neither of them looked close to this.....so they get no "hott pass."Before you read their messages, a little back story:
Mr. Pull My took something minuscule and blew it out of proportion and then blocked me!Mr. Middle Finger is from Texas.... dammit Stephanie! Can't you leave those Tejas boys alone?Boiled down to drops of polish,
Buffed beliefs and maneuvered morals. Hourglass frame of thinking Bow-tie entitled off the back of a boat. Wading in arrogance, for confidence drowned. Peripheral possibilities; stillness and seasonless. Loyalty to self: fairly bound to beauty. Sandbar depths, you're marooned. You priggish perch After our magical date to Aladdin, he sent me these series of messages:So after a great date and receiving messages like this, I was pretty surprised of this Millennials inability 2 send a text message confirm plans. Saturday, I hadn't heard from him, so I reached out because, ain't nobody got time for that. Crickets. I called him later that night, leaving another date. Still crickets. Wishing I would have remembered at that moment his favorite phrase of what he knew he deserved. I went to bed and awoke to two missed calls and a text saying to meet him at the beach for breakfast. "It supposed to rain all day, I responded. So..." Going to the beach in the rain is the most fun, he practically squealed via text. Or at least that's how I interpreted it. You're pretty hard-pressed to get me to deny an invitation to the beach, so I was ready, suit tied, sunscreen lathered, and backpacked. He took me to a beach about 45 minutes away since it was more private and he thought he got the military discount. Apparently, when you're inactive, you lose that status. I laughed it off that he certainly not his uncle's favorite nephew. Like he's never heard of Uncle Sam joke before, he laughed. We stopped at a cute little seafood shop on the way to the beach since I was famished. This meal was kind of a game changer. He revealed not only does he have divorce on his books, but the girl immediately following the divorce, cheated on him. This was only revealed through her Clinic from an infection she received. Girl that's got to be the worst. He said he was clean, yet incredibly betrayed. This relationship ended in March or April. Kind of recent, but being as empathetic as possible, but then he hit me with the truth that he resided in Virginia. When the fuck were you going to tell me that? This is why I don't date military or recently inactive military guys. He's only here for 3 months for work training.That is some shady, shady stuff. So, after divulging this information a little hard to swallow, we proceeded to the beach. We had a great time in the water.... or so I thought. The over-analyzing, slightly hyper-aware side of me noticed that he didn't touch me...not more than once. He didn't swim closer than two feet from me most the day, but we had fairly consistent conversation. I certainly don't have the build to be wearing an itty bitty teeny weeny yellow polka dot bikini (nor have I shown my stomach like that near water since I was 13), but I'm not repulsive in a tankini (long two piece bathing suit). Well, he made me feel like it. It's kinda something I can sense... especially from someone not the least bit shy about conveying his surface values. 90% of the guys I know would have had no problem being closer than two feet from me in the OCEAN and wouldn't have discarded me because my body isn't a size 4. I know because following this date, I asked a couple of my guy friends to make sure. When he suggested we leave the beach, he suggested another adventure. Why does this sound familiar? Obviously, I was up for the challenge, even though my self-esteem was a tad low. I was curious if he was just saying it so I reiterated, "Hey, be honest. If you've had enough Stephanie for the day, no worries. I can just shower at home and chill." "No. Let's just reconvene. I'll shower at my house, you at yours, and I'll text you." Yet another hint he's losing attraction towards me. Guys that are into me, even the respectful ones, would have at least made a joke or suggestion about, I don't know getting a rub a dub dub together ( rubber duckie may be required). I knew then I wouldn't see him again. The ride home, he played Tom Petty and beamed saying, "See? I listen." Smiling, I knew this didn't change anything. Maybe it was something he did so his conscious would simmer down. As we pulled up to my house, he kissed me lightly and with no emotion. I didn't look back after closing his door. He just closed it on me, why bother? I wasn't surprised when it took him over an hour to text: "Not to be an asshole but, I'm just gonna stay and get food here." As my fairwell and reassurance to both myself and him that he did not break me and I knew I deserved honesty and values beyond skin-deep, I said: "oh! lol I've been in my pj's over an hour! When you make adventures, I just assume you're gonna renege ;P" I didn't expect a response, but he managed a: "Damn. Sounds comfy." Nothing like a blow to the ole self-esteem. I guess he couldn't handle that my hips didn't lie about the couple burgers and fries. Remember the crumbs from last night's post? Here's your use for Mr. Deserted. He deserted a Miss Dates and Cakes.... if only he knew I had the other s....
Deleting, downloading, deleting, downloading and swearing it off doesn’t seem to last when loneliness or boredom knocks on my door. I’d love to boast and shout by the hairs of my chinny chin chin that I’m a fine independent woman that isn’t seeking digital or physical affection from a man. I’d like to say that I and focus on my career and avenues to success, but a liar is one thing I’m not. Sometimes my singleness hits me like a brick-house on a stripped pair of leggings. So what did I do? Download a dating app and here are a few of the hooligans I found. These are just the highlights..... Here's the circus animals; call me the ring leader.It always amazes me to what extent guys will go to to make things sexual. You know nothing about me, including the vitals like if I'm diseased, a cereal killer, or the antagonist from a horror film. All I can give this guy and the other "animals" spotlighted in this post is, at least they ARE being who they are. If you're a sleez, I guess show me now other than later. This guy already has TWO blog posts dedicated to him. He's still bitter that I deemed he wasn't my type. Remember the 80's themed party in Charleston? Thaaaaaat's him. This is, however, an accurate portrayal of how random guys' inquiry for nudes or solicited dick pics are sent. Initial response. Painful isn't it? I'm not gonna spoon these baboons, so they can make their own dessert. Ingredients: fruit loops/ring leader flavors and milk.Now that I've poured my heart into digital print about the are's, here are two examples a different are's I've come in contact with and attempted to date. This guy was not even my type. A bit young, a bit cocky, a bit goofy, but not in the super cute way. He requested a match with me and had a funny comment on his profile so, I decided to give him a chance. Immediately, I could sense that he was a skeeze and the conversation, turn to where I can invite my best friend to the date for us to get Margaritas. He was on his way out of town due to military orders and certainly wasn't looking for anything of substance. My best friend had just gotten her heartbroken and was certainly down for some free margaritas. I sent a picture of the two of us to him and of course he made some crude comment about a threesome or something. Then, he said, "You're *insert phrase here*"I continued to play his little game and just said, "we'll see when we get there." My best friend was fully content with getting the margaritas and bouncing. The day before our projected Margarita date, him and I begin talking back and forth. He actually seemed like a cool dude and actually was looking for a relationship, according to him... I don't know if anyone really means that anymore. He said we could visit him in Wisconsin when he moved and naturally, I was up for the cheesy adventure! He began fantasizing to me, via text about my best friend kissing him and the probability of him getting attached. But hold up, you messaged me here. Matched with me on a dating site. AND I don't even have a pic of her in my profile for this very reason and this is still going where I think it's going? Wait for it..... "This is where I'm really shallow... Youre cute and have a good head on your shoulders but I'm not super attracted to you. We couldn't be more than friends." Of little substance, this dessert is most suiting to last week's skeeze.Felicia's Frosted Flake Cluster F*ckSmall mindedness has very little substance, like 2 or 3 ingredients worth.
Upon fruition, with little effort and care, results into a sub-par dessert, suitable for those under 12.
The types of people we attract, says a lot about who we are. Do we gravitate toward.....
The sweetness we are drawn to alludes to our self-esteem, priorities, and rationalizations. The main types of people (guys or girls) we can be drawn to areSugar Sugar is simplicity at its finest. Honesty, transparency, and dependability. Very little risk or mystery; this sweet type ran all the bases and is safe. Without trying to, many of us fall into this. Sugar is notorious for being easy and is sometimes referred to as .... "basic" |
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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