Although days filled with sunshine aren't allotted much air time on the news, especially when competing with a thunderstorm or dare I say a hurricane, I cherish them. I take them for granted. I sometimes snarl at the rumbling of clouds when I just slipped out of my sandals and into my therapy pit that is miles of the Atlantic Shore. More times than not, I just expect that "The Sun Will Come Out Tomorrow" (now that songs in your head isn't it?) and it's about damn time I pay tribute to that. 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.
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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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