My name is Sam, and I've failed you. I'm sorry.
This is a dating blog and I have yet to describe current dating scenarios, that is.. until now. As you may have read, I've attempted to get out there and date more, if not for the torture my Mother gives me by telling me I will die alone, then for the sheer entertainment if gives my friends, and you, of course. I have been on a whirlwind of dates lately. Some good,some decent, some great, actually. The most memorable one evolved into something I didn't expect: being myself.
I know, that sounds terrible, who else are you supposed to be, right? But what I mean is, on a first date aren't you always trying to be the better version of yourself - which in my case involves an inner monologue like this: "don't talk and chew, do not cuss, cross your legs ...no cross your ankles, whores cross legs - ladies cross ankles.. isn't that what they said in the Princess Diaries, ..princess.. oh that's nice, what would Kate Middleton do? Ohhh to be married, ..can I marry this guy? I wonder what he looks like naked.. no.. stop that Sam, you are a lady.. you will not hook up with him, shit. fuck. can't stop thinking about penis size.. little or big, quit looking at his crotch, you're being obvious. Did you just talk while chewing? Do NOT CUSS. FUCK. don't talk about your family, DO NOT TALK ABOUT YOUR DADDY ISSUES, cross your legs dammit NO ankles. shit. fuck. DID I JUST CUSS.. again? Fuck. this date is over. Does he hate me? Wait, is that a smile.. oh he loves me."
Do you see why being myself on that date was shocking. I'm a mess, a fucking mess. I've got more going on in my mind than scrambled FM station in BFE. Here's whats even more baffling, he liked me. The whole version of me. I cursed, a lot. Talked about ex's (by accident), my baggage, my obvious daddy issues -briefly, cursed some more, went over my hatred for "Bros", mentioned being a spinster at weddings lately..I even discussed the amount of creeper dick pics I get. Yes, dick pics. "Do you really get that many?' He asked. "Sadly, yes..but here's my issue" I continued, "Let me preface this comment with; if you send me a dick pic, I reserve the right to show all of my friends... now, why are they never hard? I mean seriously..if you are going to send a dick pic, why wouldn't you at least make sure you were hard? Am I supposed to say..yep, that soft bag of flesh is exactly what I'm missing out on, I'm definitely going to sleep with you, now." I finished. At this point my inner monologue was out of control- screaming at myself for screwing it up... but yet, he leans in and kisses me. I mean, by any other circumstance, I should have been in my sweatpants sans bra on the couch eating a tub of Ben and Jerry's crying my life away because I'm going to die alone while tough-loving myself by re-watching "He's just not that into you" for the billionth time. Instead, he kissed me, told me he was having a great time and was being himself which he didn't expect. MIND BLOWN. I immediately liked this guy. I was funny, charming, crude, sarcastic.. you know, myself, something only my closest and longest friends get to see.. and this kid witnessed it on day one.. and still liked me? He liked it so much he called the next day. He even joked about it on the following day by saying, "I'm about to send you a soft dick pic, I hear you're into that" ..I mean, could this guy be more perfect? Okay, let's not get ahead of ourselves, but still.. he definitely made an impression.
Date two should be interesting. Maybe I'll update you. Maybe I won't.. maybe I'll end up on my couch, in sweat pants eating a tub of Cherry Garcia tough-loving myself for the billionth time, over-analyzing every lesson on "He's just not that into you" which is probably worn out by now..but here's to positive thoughts, right!?
How do you act on a first date?
Tuesday, November 20, 2012
Friday, November 2, 2012
If you're a bro... I'm a bro
So if you're a reader of this humble little blog you've learned that I prefer dirty musician types of men. It's odd, I'm aware. The clean cut, pastel polo, over grown comb-over does nothing for me. With that said...sometimes we make mistakes.
With this past weeks transgressions I have realized two things are for certain. One, I do not like "bros." Two, I am a "bro." Fuck.
I took a liking to a bro but as a true bro.. once he realized I was returning his flirtiness and had some form of an interest..he pulled back. He started flirting with other girls and would come back to me with some version of "she won't leave me alone" bullshit story. Now.. here is where I realized I am a bro, rather than show my disdain for his behavior (which I still might have, okay I did) I took it a step further. I kept up my flirt game and gave him hope of something more. He and I (along with a group of friends) were all staying together for the weekend so he thought he might get lucky..he thought wrong.
I did a lot of teasing. The night ended very painful and blue for him. I slept like a baby.
That is how you teach a bro a lesson.
Sam-1, Bros -0
With this past weeks transgressions I have realized two things are for certain. One, I do not like "bros." Two, I am a "bro." Fuck.
I took a liking to a bro but as a true bro.. once he realized I was returning his flirtiness and had some form of an interest..he pulled back. He started flirting with other girls and would come back to me with some version of "she won't leave me alone" bullshit story. Now.. here is where I realized I am a bro, rather than show my disdain for his behavior (which I still might have, okay I did) I took it a step further. I kept up my flirt game and gave him hope of something more. He and I (along with a group of friends) were all staying together for the weekend so he thought he might get lucky..he thought wrong.
I did a lot of teasing. The night ended very painful and blue for him. I slept like a baby.
That is how you teach a bro a lesson.
Sam-1, Bros -0
Wednesday, October 31, 2012
Wednesday, October 17, 2012
Never Have I Ever
....been the last [wo]man standing at this game.
So unless you have been living under a rock, being anti-social or socially awkward you have played "never have I ever" and if you went to a party school.. you have been drunk playing this game. With that said, I went to the University of Texas. I know a thing or two about drinking games.
The one thing I didn't learn early on, is that it is very crucial NOT to play this game with a crush or someone you would like to date. Well, that is.. if you're me. Right off the bat, the closest friends will be your worst enemies, they know everything.. and since the point of this game is to get others drunk it becomes a "hey I'm just going to throw you under the bus and tell everyone your dirty little secrets and if you don't drink, I will tell everyone the whole story, bestie." Awesome. I will fully admit to throwing a few friends under the bus too, but hey that's the nature of the beast.
Anyway, here is why not to play with a crush... they will judge you. They will look at you differently (if you are any fun at all.) No one wants to date the girl who drinks to "never have I ever had sex in a public place" hypothetically, of course. They may want to do other things with you, but dating isn't one of them. With the same token, here is a list of my go-to questions when playing, so I can figure out what kind of person I'm considering... mind you, I want a little mischief and adventure. If you are lets say, more "conservative"Ahem boring and judgy.. you can use these to weed out prospects, I guess.
*I bet you are playing with Natty light..judgy.
Never Have I Ever:
Yes, I know these are mostly sexual..but hey that's the fun in this game. You're welcome!
Now get to playing you majestic sexual creatures :)
So unless you have been living under a rock, being anti-social or socially awkward you have played "never have I ever" and if you went to a party school.. you have been drunk playing this game. With that said, I went to the University of Texas. I know a thing or two about drinking games.
The one thing I didn't learn early on, is that it is very crucial NOT to play this game with a crush or someone you would like to date. Well, that is.. if you're me. Right off the bat, the closest friends will be your worst enemies, they know everything.. and since the point of this game is to get others drunk it becomes a "hey I'm just going to throw you under the bus and tell everyone your dirty little secrets and if you don't drink, I will tell everyone the whole story, bestie." Awesome. I will fully admit to throwing a few friends under the bus too, but hey that's the nature of the beast.
Anyway, here is why not to play with a crush... they will judge you. They will look at you differently (if you are any fun at all.) No one wants to date the girl who drinks to "never have I ever had sex in a public place" hypothetically, of course. They may want to do other things with you, but dating isn't one of them. With the same token, here is a list of my go-to questions when playing, so I can figure out what kind of person I'm considering... mind you, I want a little mischief and adventure. If you are lets say, more "conservative"
*I bet you are playing with Natty light..judgy.
Never Have I Ever:
- had sex in a public place
- had sex on a first date
- had a threesome
- cheated on someone
- had sex with more than one person in one day
- had sex with two or more people in one week
- had relations with someone at this table
- raped someone *dealbreaker, clearly
- murdered someone *dealbreaker, clearly
- beat someone up
- had an STD * you'll want to know this.
- walked in on my parents
- masturbated to porn
- had to sneak off like a thief in the night before the other person woke up
- slept with a friends boyfriend/girlfriend
- made a sex tape
- been arrested
- stole anything
- given/received road-head
- traded sex for material things
Yes, I know these are mostly sexual..but hey that's the fun in this game. You're welcome!
Now get to playing you majestic sexual creatures :)
Thursday, October 11, 2012
Winging it
This whole "wingman" situation has typically been a bro thing. Here's a little secret, women are amazing wingmen too. We're considerate, funny, supportive (beyond belief), natural talkers and many other amazing things. We're majestic. Period. There has been a few situations where I have served as a wingwoman to some guys, but mostly, here's a dirty little secret.. fellow majestic ladies also have wingwomen. Yep, that's right..sometimes girls go hunting, you will often find them dressed scantily clad, wearing very high heels and in a gaggle of other girls. That's right, a gaggle.
Option one, be a good wingwoman and let my friend twiddle his thumbs.
So a few days ago, a friend hit it off with a seemingly nice guy. He was with a friend, naturally my friend tried to pass the friend off on me. Right off the bat, not my type, but I did as any good wingwoman would do, took one for the team. I entertained conversations, hung out with them all night and let him buy me a few drinks (duh). After a bit, the kid grew on me, and it didn't seem so much of a duty, rather, I chose to stick around. Then, .. a friend of mine met up with us. This friend, a man friend with whom I have sexual tension with, put my wingwoman-ness to the test. Here I was... caught in the middle of a man ping-pong game. Not that I'm complaining... I would love to be in this situation more often, but I was torn ..I didn't know how to maneuver this situation.
Option one, be a good wingwoman and let my friend twiddle his thumbs.
Option two, screw being a wingwoman and hang out with my friend. After all, I had completed my duties long enough.
Option three, Ninja my way out of it while not disrupting any of the delicate relationships.
After some other friends weighed in on what I should do, all responses came down to having to make a choice. I went with option three. If I were a guy, would you ask me to choose? Probably not. So I decided, that I wanted both. I wanted my cake and I'd be damned if I didn't eat it too! I devised a plan, made sure not to be too comfy or flirty with either, I didn't want to lose one...or worse, both. I played it cool toned it down and suggested we move bars, I saw that as an escape, left with one and had my friend be a wingman for me and make up a story about me getting split up/leaving early, whatever. Genius.
How'd it end up? Well, let's just say you can call me a ninja. A majestic freakin ninja.
How'd it end up? Well, let's just say you can call me a ninja. A majestic freakin ninja.
Thursday, September 20, 2012
The Smells of Desperation
So last night I got wrangled into accompanying a friend to a dating event. Not usually my kind of thing, but seeing as how I'm single as fuck, I thought, "why the hell not?" It didn't hurt that it was at a bar, because if I'm expected to be interesting and approachable, I sure as shit need a cocktail.. or 3.
I wasn't really nervous leading up to it, I convinced myself to go under the notion that this was strictly for blog research. I mean the whole purpose of this blog is to entertain you with my dating life.. up until recently.. I've been, well.. not dating. With that said, I was starting to think of myself as a journalist, they constantly put the story first.. (I realize I'm delusional to call myself a journalist) believe it or not, this helped me get there. The thing about me is, as outgoing and loud as I am, I'm actually pretty reserved around new people and forced situations, I clam up and turn into this awkward fool who can barely form sentences, let alone witty and engaging banter, it's not cute. Usually a shot of tequila helps --which I convincedforced my friend to take with me. I was golden after that!
Let me just begin with, you know those dating mixers you see in the commercials, TV shows & movies where everyone is in their mid 20s to mid 30s, fit and attractive, ..well it's nothing like that. You can actually smell the desperation in the room. It didn't take long for me to be approached, and I don't mean that in conceited way. I mean my friend and I were the only girls who showed up late, so we were fresh meat. We were being circled and clocked left and right. I felt like we were on a national geographic hunting show...being hunted. Anyway, so I'm approached by this very tall man who has clearly never heard of the term, 'personal space' I mean, he's all up in my bubble. He begins to hover over my shoulder and read the cocktail menu I had in my hand with this line, "I like your necklace, does it have a story, what's the story?" Strong, right off the bat. I can appreciate a different line, but I'd appreciate no line at all even more. I participate, he seems nice. We part ways after a while ...but not for good. No, he finds me like 5 times that night, getting a little too comfortable with me each time. I thought personal space was a problem.. I was wrong, he was a toucher. My back, my hip, my waist, --not ok. (If you're a guy reading this, please learn something. If we don't know you.. please for the love of god, keep your hands to yourself. Observe the 2nd grade classroom rules.) This guy then proceeds to feel free to sit and chat, which is fine. Except when you lead with this question, "Hey, are you a dirty girl?" Boom. My jaw dropped, my friend without missing a beat bursts into a fit of laughter..which couldn't be controlled. Somehow, the only way to get him to leave was to give him my phone number. Immediately regret. I have now received 5+ messages.
For fear of reeking of desperation, we sneakily leave and head to a normal bar. All the nerves and awkwardness disappears. There is something to be said about going into that pressured kind of situation. Where you are EXPECTED to interact with the sole purpose of finding someone to date. Remove that pressure at a normal bar where typically we do find people, naturally/organically and we are ourselves. Shining with wit, banter and easy conversations. There is something in that logic, some may say its my sub-conscious telling me, maybe I don't want to find anyone? I think, I'm just no good under pressure. Never have been.
So we have a good time, meet some more people, accidentally divulge too much information to a friend I ran into who wasis romantically interested in me, about the last time I was at this bar, with the Dirty Musician (That story is doozy.) Well, come to find, not only does he know the
Dirty Musician , they are friends. Fuck. It went downhill from there. We parted ways shortly after.
Although maybe this situation wasn't the best, I realize I need to get back out there.. I also realized I'm going to have to do it organically.. is this what dating has come to? Creepy desperate smelling men circling you like a buck on closing day of the hunting season? How you do YOU date? What works for you? Please let me know what you think!
I wasn't really nervous leading up to it, I convinced myself to go under the notion that this was strictly for blog research. I mean the whole purpose of this blog is to entertain you with my dating life.. up until recently.. I've been, well.. not dating. With that said, I was starting to think of myself as a journalist, they constantly put the story first.. (I realize I'm delusional to call myself a journalist) believe it or not, this helped me get there. The thing about me is, as outgoing and loud as I am, I'm actually pretty reserved around new people and forced situations, I clam up and turn into this awkward fool who can barely form sentences, let alone witty and engaging banter, it's not cute. Usually a shot of tequila helps --which I convinced
Let me just begin with, you know those dating mixers you see in the commercials, TV shows & movies where everyone is in their mid 20s to mid 30s, fit and attractive, ..well it's nothing like that. You can actually smell the desperation in the room. It didn't take long for me to be approached, and I don't mean that in conceited way. I mean my friend and I were the only girls who showed up late, so we were fresh meat. We were being circled and clocked left and right. I felt like we were on a national geographic hunting show...being hunted. Anyway, so I'm approached by this very tall man who has clearly never heard of the term, 'personal space' I mean, he's all up in my bubble. He begins to hover over my shoulder and read the cocktail menu I had in my hand with this line, "I like your necklace, does it have a story, what's the story?" Strong, right off the bat. I can appreciate a different line, but I'd appreciate no line at all even more. I participate, he seems nice. We part ways after a while ...but not for good. No, he finds me like 5 times that night, getting a little too comfortable with me each time. I thought personal space was a problem.. I was wrong, he was a toucher. My back, my hip, my waist, --not ok. (If you're a guy reading this, please learn something. If we don't know you.. please for the love of god, keep your hands to yourself. Observe the 2nd grade classroom rules.) This guy then proceeds to feel free to sit and chat, which is fine. Except when you lead with this question, "Hey, are you a dirty girl?" Boom. My jaw dropped, my friend without missing a beat bursts into a fit of laughter..which couldn't be controlled. Somehow, the only way to get him to leave was to give him my phone number. Immediately regret. I have now received 5+ messages.
For fear of reeking of desperation, we sneakily leave and head to a normal bar. All the nerves and awkwardness disappears. There is something to be said about going into that pressured kind of situation. Where you are EXPECTED to interact with the sole purpose of finding someone to date. Remove that pressure at a normal bar where typically we do find people, naturally/organically and we are ourselves. Shining with wit, banter and easy conversations. There is something in that logic, some may say its my sub-conscious telling me, maybe I don't want to find anyone? I think, I'm just no good under pressure. Never have been.
So we have a good time, meet some more people, accidentally divulge too much information to a friend I ran into who was
Although maybe this situation wasn't the best, I realize I need to get back out there.. I also realized I'm going to have to do it organically.. is this what dating has come to? Creepy desperate smelling men circling you like a buck on closing day of the hunting season? How you do YOU date? What works for you? Please let me know what you think!
Monday, September 17, 2012
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Friday, September 14, 2012
Be Passionate. Be Selfish.
So I was talking to a friend/mentor/boss lady the other day about relationships and self discovery. Pretty deep stuff for a dinner party but hey, when the mood strikes and you've got two opinionated self-aware Women, there's no stopping that conversation. It was at that moment that someone else pointed out to me that I clearly have a type, unavailable. Sometimes it is emotionally, other times it has been physically or geographically, either way it is a real shit-storm. Naturally, as a young woman, I decided to reflect inwardly and ask myself, "what is my part in all this? What draws me to these men? Am I self-sabotaging?" Etc. After much thought I've come to the conclusion that: A.) I need higher standards. B.) I need more time for myself. C.) I need to be selfish for a while. D) Times, they are a-changing.
The first issue, which may be the most important is: I need higher standards. Now don't get me wrong, there is a few guys that weren't all bad. Maybe they just handled things poorly but I'm not just talking about my ex beaus. I need to reflect the things that I'm looking for as well. I have a serious problem with falling for someone too quick. I am passionate. I rely on passion like pre-menstrual women rely on chocolate. I love hard and I hate hard. I recognize passion in others and I'm a goner. I believe my exact words to the afore mentioned friend was, "I want someone with passion, I don't care what that passion is.. just be passionate." She quickly stopped me and said something along the lines of, "No, you need to care, passion is great but it has to be important to you as well. I mean what if someone was really passionate about crystal meth.." Touche, good point. So now I'm realizing that I need to figure out what is important to me and look for someone with who feels similar. I also need to not be such a flippin' hypocrite. Maybe I'm drawn to guys with passion who don't necessarily live up to their dreams because I don't. You know, when I was younger I was a real force to be reckoned with, and sure, some of that girl is still in me but I've gotten complacent. Which is probably why I find myself in the types of relationships that turn to shit. I want to write a book. I want to help people. I want to be wealthy, I want to take care of my family, I want to travel and most importantly, I want to be happy, ecstatic-happy, not complacent. Maybe getting my heart shattered, pissed on, and my world getting flipped upside-down was the best thing to happen to me. I started this blog shortly after and the amount of support I've received is overwhelming. Granted, I'm nowhere near where I want to be, but I'm a hell of a lot closer. I have the passion, and now I'm doing something about it. I'm going after the career I want, starting with event planning and PR and will continue to blog and write until I'm satisfied with my portfolio.
B) and C) are related. I need more "ME" time and I need to be selfish. The amount of support I had for the douche who ripped my heart out was 10x the amount I had for myself. I like to be a champion for the people I love but find myself lacking the same support from them, relationships and friendships alike. I figured out that some of those people need to go and I am focusing on the ones who deserve my love and support. Cheers to them.
Lastly, I recognize these issues and I am confronting them, acknowledging my part in it as well. I already see the change in myself. I have had to let some people go, who quite frankly, didn't deserve my friendship. It's a two-way street, I'm tired of going down this one-way bullshit. With that said, I am also repairing relationships who have proved are worth the work. I'm mature enough to own up to my part in a fall-out and work through it. On the relationship/romantic side, I'm screening them like a threat to national security. I realize that my bed will stay empty and cold for a while, but it's better than the alternative. Every woman, despite how dense some may be, knows when something doesn't feel right. When you have to question someone, you know. I am just listening to that innate gut feeling from now on. The more you rely on others for advice the more you know you're just looking for someone to tell you it's ok to do something you know you shouldn't be doing. I'm not doing that anymore. I've had it.
There is nothing more powerful than a woman who knows exactly what she wants. I'm dedicated to being that woman from here on out.
The first issue, which may be the most important is: I need higher standards. Now don't get me wrong, there is a few guys that weren't all bad. Maybe they just handled things poorly but I'm not just talking about my ex beaus. I need to reflect the things that I'm looking for as well. I have a serious problem with falling for someone too quick. I am passionate. I rely on passion like pre-menstrual women rely on chocolate. I love hard and I hate hard. I recognize passion in others and I'm a goner. I believe my exact words to the afore mentioned friend was, "I want someone with passion, I don't care what that passion is.. just be passionate." She quickly stopped me and said something along the lines of, "No, you need to care, passion is great but it has to be important to you as well. I mean what if someone was really passionate about crystal meth.." Touche, good point. So now I'm realizing that I need to figure out what is important to me and look for someone with who feels similar. I also need to not be such a flippin' hypocrite. Maybe I'm drawn to guys with passion who don't necessarily live up to their dreams because I don't. You know, when I was younger I was a real force to be reckoned with, and sure, some of that girl is still in me but I've gotten complacent. Which is probably why I find myself in the types of relationships that turn to shit. I want to write a book. I want to help people. I want to be wealthy, I want to take care of my family, I want to travel and most importantly, I want to be happy, ecstatic-happy, not complacent. Maybe getting my heart shattered, pissed on, and my world getting flipped upside-down was the best thing to happen to me. I started this blog shortly after and the amount of support I've received is overwhelming. Granted, I'm nowhere near where I want to be, but I'm a hell of a lot closer. I have the passion, and now I'm doing something about it. I'm going after the career I want, starting with event planning and PR and will continue to blog and write until I'm satisfied with my portfolio.
B) and C) are related. I need more "ME" time and I need to be selfish. The amount of support I had for the douche who ripped my heart out was 10x the amount I had for myself. I like to be a champion for the people I love but find myself lacking the same support from them, relationships and friendships alike. I figured out that some of those people need to go and I am focusing on the ones who deserve my love and support. Cheers to them.
Lastly, I recognize these issues and I am confronting them, acknowledging my part in it as well. I already see the change in myself. I have had to let some people go, who quite frankly, didn't deserve my friendship. It's a two-way street, I'm tired of going down this one-way bullshit. With that said, I am also repairing relationships who have proved are worth the work. I'm mature enough to own up to my part in a fall-out and work through it. On the relationship/romantic side, I'm screening them like a threat to national security. I realize that my bed will stay empty and cold for a while, but it's better than the alternative. Every woman, despite how dense some may be, knows when something doesn't feel right. When you have to question someone, you know. I am just listening to that innate gut feeling from now on. The more you rely on others for advice the more you know you're just looking for someone to tell you it's ok to do something you know you shouldn't be doing. I'm not doing that anymore. I've had it.
There is nothing more powerful than a woman who knows exactly what she wants. I'm dedicated to being that woman from here on out.
Tuesday, August 28, 2012
Numbers Shmumbers.
I've heard a lot of talk about numbers lately.. you know what I'm talking about. That question the insecure love. "How many people have you slept with (dun dun duuunnnn)" I say insecure for two reasons: One, let's be honest, the reason you're asking is because you want to know where you stand in comparison. Two, you think that a certain number will accurately reflect the character of the person in question, which is placing all of your better judgment in a situation that you have no control in. You in fact, have no part in this equation ..yet it matters so much to you, because you are indeed insecure.
I guess I can understand why those people who ask this question, ask it. Maybe, as we've established.. they are just insecure. Maybe.. I'm wrong and they are freaks.. and will gauge the level of how high they wave that dirty little freak flag based on the answer given..which is highly possible (and intriguing.) The only problem with that is- isn't the real issue that you are indeed insecure of how much another person will deal with and you think you can accurately judge what someone is comfortable with by the number of people they've "admitted" to sleeping with?
Rather than continue to live like an insecure freshman ... in high school why can't we just be content in the situation we're in. Why does it matter so much that someone has a past. You have a past, that's a fact. Do you want to be judged by that? It's always going to be too low or too high for someone.. so why waste time, energy and genuine getting-to-know you feelings over something so insignificant.
People seem to be intrigued with what my number is. I get this question more than I'd like.. way, way more. I get it, I'm an open book, I have the mouth of a sailor, I think inappropriateness is completely normal - of course you want to know what my number is. Here is my answer: I stopped giving people a number because to me they are more than that, they are not a notch in my bed post and they deserve more respect than to be treated like one, as I hope I do to you. (well, some of them deserve the respect, some I could give two shits about.) To me it is of no importance, I don't have that fear of adding another number to my bullshit "list" like most girls, but that doesn't mean I think sleeping with everyone is acceptable either. I live my life on a circumstantial basis. I try my damnedest not to hold people responsible for other's mistakes and I try to avoid jealousy at all costs, which is why I never ask that ridiculous question. No good can come of it.
Number 1 or 100.. If I like you, it doesn't matter ---unless you're terrible. Then you need experience.
I guess I can understand why those people who ask this question, ask it. Maybe, as we've established.. they are just insecure. Maybe.. I'm wrong and they are freaks.. and will gauge the level of how high they wave that dirty little freak flag based on the answer given..which is highly possible (and intriguing.) The only problem with that is- isn't the real issue that you are indeed insecure of how much another person will deal with and you think you can accurately judge what someone is comfortable with by the number of people they've "admitted" to sleeping with?
Rather than continue to live like an insecure freshman ... in high school why can't we just be content in the situation we're in. Why does it matter so much that someone has a past. You have a past, that's a fact. Do you want to be judged by that? It's always going to be too low or too high for someone.. so why waste time, energy and genuine getting-to-know you feelings over something so insignificant.
People seem to be intrigued with what my number is. I get this question more than I'd like.. way, way more. I get it, I'm an open book, I have the mouth of a sailor, I think inappropriateness is completely normal - of course you want to know what my number is. Here is my answer: I stopped giving people a number because to me they are more than that, they are not a notch in my bed post and they deserve more respect than to be treated like one, as I hope I do to you. (well, some of them deserve the respect, some I could give two shits about.) To me it is of no importance, I don't have that fear of adding another number to my bullshit "list" like most girls, but that doesn't mean I think sleeping with everyone is acceptable either. I live my life on a circumstantial basis. I try my damnedest not to hold people responsible for other's mistakes and I try to avoid jealousy at all costs, which is why I never ask that ridiculous question. No good can come of it.
Number 1 or 100.. If I like you, it doesn't matter ---unless you're terrible. Then you need experience.
Thursday, August 16, 2012
Dirty Musicians
It is of no surprise to anyone that I find myself in the most ridiculous situations. Be it karma, coincidence, curse, voodoo, whatever - my life is ridiculous. More specifically my dating life, if you could even call it that, is beyond insane. I wish I made these things up. Sadly, I have found myself in some pretty outlandish situations, I'm not one to be shocked very often, however.. this "date" (more of a hangout).. left me speechless. Until now.
As some of my close friends know, I have a thing for musicians. Passionate, dirty looking, tattoo-covered musicians. I like beards and long hair on a man, it's a real problem, a damn sexy one though. Being that I live in Austin, I am in no short of them. I could throw a rock and hit 10 dirty musicians, it's like Christmas year round. With that said, I have been, for lack of a better word, "talking" to this guy.. nothing serious or consistent even.. but phone tag and texting nonetheless. He is in a band that I actually like and was familiar with and a fan of before meeting him personally, which was a nice turn of events. (My ex was in a band.. that well.. just wasn't my thing, great people - other than him.. not so lovely tunes.) So color me giddy when this guy who shall remain nameless asked me to hang out with him multiple times, I was borderline groupie happy.
I have heard some stories about this guy from close mutual friends.. he didn't exactly have a great reputation but I knew that he wasn't into dating seriously and I didn't see him as a real boyfriend-material prospect. I saw him as a piece of dirty sexy meat. Someone who I knew I would have fun with -eventually. So I agreed to meet him out one night, rather than go over to his house where he wanted to cook me dinner. I wanted something with less pressure..and alcohol - this was a must. So I met him out, I knew he had been drinking but he seemed fine.. we talked, we laughed ...we drank. I had a shot because I needed to loosen up, he then proceeds to tell me he appreciates me going to the shows blah blah blah, he really likes me blah blah blah. He's sorry he hasn't been in town much, they've been on the road and other stuff like that which I appreciated. The more open he was being the more uncomfortable it made me, though. I think he felt that so he then proceeds to flip a switch and tells me not to be afraid of him, that he's not feeding me lines (a line in itself).. he genuinely likes me, I'm taking his shit and giving it back to him which he's impressed with etc. I guess me being semi distant and hard to read coupled with day drinking did not sit well with him. He got a bit of an ego with me and said that I needed to stop trying to have the upper hand and tell him how I felt, loosen up and I needed to quit being scared of him. Out of frustration I said.. "listen, I'm not scared of you. I don't take compliments well, I don't like to talk about feelings, especially since I don't really know you and it makes me uncomfortable, you're not very scary anyway." He did not like that. He replies with "Oh, I can be real scary, but you shouldn't be scared. I'll treat you like a queen and fuck everyone up who doesn't" Immature, but sweet.. (clearly I have issues.) I replied with, "what... are you going to cut me up and wear my skin as a mask or something?" "no" "then I have no reason to be scared.. so chill out."
Somewhere in that conversation and me releasing my inner diva..he's looking at me like someone in the hunger games and I'm the food. He takes me by complete surprise and says "you're so fucking sexy I want to tell you everything I want to do to you." Caught completely off guard the only thing I can say is, "please don't, that's creepy.. wait, you do want to wear my skin as a mask, don't you?"
His voice gets louder , "No, I want to rip off all your clothes and paint on your naked body. I want to paint trees everywhere." I cover his mouth.. it's a quiet bar and people are looking. He continues and gets louder, "I want to eat you out for two hours!" I am in shock. My response, "that's not even possible." "let's try" he says. I am just sitting there, embarrassed, slightly intrigued, but mostly embarrassed and pissed. We were having a good time and he went and fucked it up. He clearly can tell I'm upset and on the verge of slapping him then in his attempt to apologize, which he does.. he follows it up with - you should get the fuck away from me. I'm no good for you. You're too good, too pretty, way too smart. I'm an asshole and you don't deserve it, but if you stay.. we're going back to my place and I'm going to do everything I said, to you."
Needless to say, I got up and walked away. Not without a last word though. I walked a few steps turned around and said, "What the fuck is wrong with you. We were having a good time, and spare me the bullshit self-deprecating act, if I didn't want to be here I wouldn't be. And don't you go blaming me for walking out. You are to blame - who says that shit. I don't even know you and you're telling me what you want to do to me. Come on bro, get your shit together."
Enough is enough. Some girls get all the luck, I get the sex crazed ego-maniacs. Awesome. I swear, I must have a sign on my head that says, "Douchelords Welcome."
Musicians - 4, Sam - 0.
As some of my close friends know, I have a thing for musicians. Passionate, dirty looking, tattoo-covered musicians. I like beards and long hair on a man, it's a real problem, a damn sexy one though. Being that I live in Austin, I am in no short of them. I could throw a rock and hit 10 dirty musicians, it's like Christmas year round. With that said, I have been, for lack of a better word, "talking" to this guy.. nothing serious or consistent even.. but phone tag and texting nonetheless. He is in a band that I actually like and was familiar with and a fan of before meeting him personally, which was a nice turn of events. (My ex was in a band.. that well.. just wasn't my thing, great people - other than him.. not so lovely tunes.) So color me giddy when this guy who shall remain nameless asked me to hang out with him multiple times, I was borderline groupie happy.
I have heard some stories about this guy from close mutual friends.. he didn't exactly have a great reputation but I knew that he wasn't into dating seriously and I didn't see him as a real boyfriend-material prospect. I saw him as a piece of dirty sexy meat. Someone who I knew I would have fun with -eventually. So I agreed to meet him out one night, rather than go over to his house where he wanted to cook me dinner. I wanted something with less pressure..and alcohol - this was a must. So I met him out, I knew he had been drinking but he seemed fine.. we talked, we laughed ...we drank. I had a shot because I needed to loosen up, he then proceeds to tell me he appreciates me going to the shows blah blah blah, he really likes me blah blah blah. He's sorry he hasn't been in town much, they've been on the road and other stuff like that which I appreciated. The more open he was being the more uncomfortable it made me, though. I think he felt that so he then proceeds to flip a switch and tells me not to be afraid of him, that he's not feeding me lines (a line in itself).. he genuinely likes me, I'm taking his shit and giving it back to him which he's impressed with etc. I guess me being semi distant and hard to read coupled with day drinking did not sit well with him. He got a bit of an ego with me and said that I needed to stop trying to have the upper hand and tell him how I felt, loosen up and I needed to quit being scared of him. Out of frustration I said.. "listen, I'm not scared of you. I don't take compliments well, I don't like to talk about feelings, especially since I don't really know you and it makes me uncomfortable, you're not very scary anyway." He did not like that. He replies with "Oh, I can be real scary, but you shouldn't be scared. I'll treat you like a queen and fuck everyone up who doesn't" Immature, but sweet.. (clearly I have issues.) I replied with, "what... are you going to cut me up and wear my skin as a mask or something?" "no" "then I have no reason to be scared.. so chill out."
Somewhere in that conversation and me releasing my inner diva..he's looking at me like someone in the hunger games and I'm the food. He takes me by complete surprise and says "you're so fucking sexy I want to tell you everything I want to do to you." Caught completely off guard the only thing I can say is, "please don't, that's creepy.. wait, you do want to wear my skin as a mask, don't you?"
His voice gets louder , "No, I want to rip off all your clothes and paint on your naked body. I want to paint trees everywhere." I cover his mouth.. it's a quiet bar and people are looking. He continues and gets louder, "I want to eat you out for two hours!" I am in shock. My response, "that's not even possible." "let's try" he says. I am just sitting there, embarrassed, slightly intrigued, but mostly embarrassed and pissed. We were having a good time and he went and fucked it up. He clearly can tell I'm upset and on the verge of slapping him then in his attempt to apologize, which he does.. he follows it up with - you should get the fuck away from me. I'm no good for you. You're too good, too pretty, way too smart. I'm an asshole and you don't deserve it, but if you stay.. we're going back to my place and I'm going to do everything I said, to you."
Needless to say, I got up and walked away. Not without a last word though. I walked a few steps turned around and said, "What the fuck is wrong with you. We were having a good time, and spare me the bullshit self-deprecating act, if I didn't want to be here I wouldn't be. And don't you go blaming me for walking out. You are to blame - who says that shit. I don't even know you and you're telling me what you want to do to me. Come on bro, get your shit together."
Enough is enough. Some girls get all the luck, I get the sex crazed ego-maniacs. Awesome. I swear, I must have a sign on my head that says, "Douchelords Welcome."
Musicians - 4, Sam - 0.
Friday, August 3, 2012
Beware: Wrong Vibes
I'm pissed. If you are a member of my family.. please kindly stop reading.
Sorry, had to start off with that, it's that kind of blog. So I don't know what it is about me, some sort of vibe I must unknowingly be giving off that says, "douche canoes welcome! Please come on too strong, thoroughly creep me out, treat me shitty and by all means, yes send me dick pics" Because.. that is my life. If I knew what this "vibe" was please trust, I'd be shutting that shit down, real quick.
Now that I got that out there.. here is my issue. Yes, I am very open (hence this blog), Yes, I am forward at times. Yes, I curse like a sailor and I am super inappropriate. Yes, I enjoy having sex.
NO, it is not ok to send me a dick pic before meeting me. No, it is not ok to tell your friends that I will be seduced by a dick pic. No, you shouldn't assume I will sleep you you. No, you shouldn't assume I will hook up with your friend who is in town.
It's like I can't win. I am not the damsel in distress type who is cutesie and fake. I can't pretend to laugh at all your jokes or make you think I give two shits about how many points you scored in your bullshit recreational league. I don't care that you were a big deal in high school. I don't need you rescue me. I sure as shit don't need anyone to cook for or clean up after. Yet, those girls get the loving phone calls, the pet names like "sugar, baby, etc" Those girls get the attentiveness. Me, I get secret admirer dick pics, late night calls, texts on weekend nights- only. Basically, somehow someone decided I was going to be the girl you observe the "twitter" rule with. No messages over 140 characters, as my coworker explained. Well fuck that. I am unleashing the bitch. I've already severed ties with a few guys who thought this was acceptable. I will call out the next idiot who decides a dick pic is a perfectly acceptable introduction, and for the love of God, If you are going to send a dick pic.. make sure it is hard. No one, and I mean NO ONE finds a flacid penis attractive.
Sorry, had to start off with that, it's that kind of blog. So I don't know what it is about me, some sort of vibe I must unknowingly be giving off that says, "douche canoes welcome! Please come on too strong, thoroughly creep me out, treat me shitty and by all means, yes send me dick pics" Because.. that is my life. If I knew what this "vibe" was please trust, I'd be shutting that shit down, real quick.
Now that I got that out there.. here is my issue. Yes, I am very open (hence this blog), Yes, I am forward at times. Yes, I curse like a sailor and I am super inappropriate. Yes, I enjoy having sex.
NO, it is not ok to send me a dick pic before meeting me. No, it is not ok to tell your friends that I will be seduced by a dick pic. No, you shouldn't assume I will sleep you you. No, you shouldn't assume I will hook up with your friend who is in town.
It's like I can't win. I am not the damsel in distress type who is cutesie and fake. I can't pretend to laugh at all your jokes or make you think I give two shits about how many points you scored in your bullshit recreational league. I don't care that you were a big deal in high school. I don't need you rescue me. I sure as shit don't need anyone to cook for or clean up after. Yet, those girls get the loving phone calls, the pet names like "sugar, baby, etc" Those girls get the attentiveness. Me, I get secret admirer dick pics, late night calls, texts on weekend nights- only. Basically, somehow someone decided I was going to be the girl you observe the "twitter" rule with. No messages over 140 characters, as my coworker explained. Well fuck that. I am unleashing the bitch. I've already severed ties with a few guys who thought this was acceptable. I will call out the next idiot who decides a dick pic is a perfectly acceptable introduction, and for the love of God, If you are going to send a dick pic.. make sure it is hard. No one, and I mean NO ONE finds a flacid penis attractive.
Friday, July 20, 2012
What I don't want...I think?
Disclaimer: there is no scientific/psychological/ evidence to prove the theory below, mostly just my personal feelings.. it's a rant, ok. Don't be so serious.
Through all my ups and downs regarding men I've come to realize-- well, not much; but I've come to realize that i know exactly what I DON'T want. It's a start. I'd call that progress.. I was a real trainwreck before (if you can believe that it was worse). Oh. It was so much worse.
So this guy that has been a somewhat promising prospect, I've now decided unbeknownst to him, that he is just not something I want to pursue.
Now let me explain. I too, think its almost completely ridiculous that me, a single as fuck/cursed dater/perpetual victim of infidelity is turning someone away?! The reason being, he's got that Bro problem or how I describe the Jeckyll & Hyde issue. He constantly tells me how much of a "nice" guy he is and that he is usually the one to get hurt. RED FLAG because every guy I've ever dated that screwed me over claimed to be the nice guy and the one who typically gets hurt. Sure buddy, I'll remember that when you cheat on me like the rest did before you. Which leads me to his next fault; to defend himself in any argument he has on multiple occasions to placate me said, "I'm not those guys you've dated before"...etc. Well played, douche. You're right, at least those guys were charming enough to get me to fall for them first. All of his (Mr. Hyde) actions are contradicting everything he, (Dr. Jeckyll -ish) says . He argues with me, brings up my past, he's flaky, disappears ... etc.
What keeps him as a prospect, or has kept him you wonder? He is a master at the grand gesture. He is ultra romantic and is a typical Prince Charming when he falls out of my good graces. I finally realized that I really don't like him in the day to day, small things, kind of way. I love his romantic, grand gestures, sweeping me off my feet -side of him... but that only happens after a few days, weeks even of anger, let down etc. I am just not willing to have to deal with that anymore. It is too stressful and the bad definitely outweighs the good, in this situation.
Now.. I know it's one thing to describe his behavior it but here is a real-life situation.
He goes to another state for a job for a few weeks and I don't hear from him. Something traumatic happens and he calls me and won't stop. In an effort to be a better human being, I foolishly am there for him during this tough time. Then I don't hear from him for a while and find out (via Facebook) that he's back in Texas. I, in a drunken fit of rage, text him and tell him I'm done. We have this long (on his part) conversation, mostly my one word responses and his overly explained excuses. Where in the end, I end the conversation with the best advice I've ever learned - even though it its from "he's just not that into you"(don't judge, chances are you could learn a few things too). I tell him, you know what, if you want to see me, you will. If someone wants to talk to someone they will, even if it is for a minute or text me after you book your flight, it takes 5 seconds. So you're whole argument is bullshit and I'm done. Lose my number, forget me completely."
He then stops, mostly because I hung up and sends me a text saying, "I hope we can talk about this like adults, when we're not caught up in the heat of the moment." OH NO HE DIDN'T imply I was being Childish. He did. He did, indeed. So naturally, I ignore this message and go about my awesome time ( I was on a trip and headed to a concert that I told him about before.) I later get another message from him saying, "you're right if someone wants to see you, they will. I am here at the concert. It was sold out but I got in."
Smooth, right? These are the things he's good at. He finds his way back into my good graces, but then after that day... he just drove off to visit some friends and has begun his little disappearing act, he's mastered by the way.
I'm sick of it. I know that this is probably not the great love that I want. I know that if I'm being honest with myself, is a relationship of convenience and is just something to occupy my time. Someone to text, someone to see occasionally etc. So, be done with it, right? Right. The only thing is... I can't seem to stop myself from being excited about the grand gestures. How does one not let that affect your better judgment? Help.
If you were in this situation, what would you do?
Now.. I know it's one thing to describe his behavior it but here is a real-life situation.
He goes to another state for a job for a few weeks and I don't hear from him. Something traumatic happens and he calls me and won't stop. In an effort to be a better human being, I foolishly am there for him during this tough time. Then I don't hear from him for a while and find out (via Facebook) that he's back in Texas. I, in a drunken fit of rage, text him and tell him I'm done. We have this long (on his part) conversation, mostly my one word responses and his overly explained excuses. Where in the end, I end the conversation with the best advice I've ever learned - even though it its from "he's just not that into you"(don't judge, chances are you could learn a few things too). I tell him, you know what, if you want to see me, you will. If someone wants to talk to someone they will, even if it is for a minute or text me after you book your flight, it takes 5 seconds. So you're whole argument is bullshit and I'm done. Lose my number, forget me completely."
He then stops, mostly because I hung up and sends me a text saying, "I hope we can talk about this like adults, when we're not caught up in the heat of the moment." OH NO HE DIDN'T imply I was being Childish. He did. He did, indeed. So naturally, I ignore this message and go about my awesome time ( I was on a trip and headed to a concert that I told him about before.) I later get another message from him saying, "you're right if someone wants to see you, they will. I am here at the concert. It was sold out but I got in."
Smooth, right? These are the things he's good at. He finds his way back into my good graces, but then after that day... he just drove off to visit some friends and has begun his little disappearing act, he's mastered by the way.
I'm sick of it. I know that this is probably not the great love that I want. I know that if I'm being honest with myself, is a relationship of convenience and is just something to occupy my time. Someone to text, someone to see occasionally etc. So, be done with it, right? Right. The only thing is... I can't seem to stop myself from being excited about the grand gestures. How does one not let that affect your better judgment? Help.
If you were in this situation, what would you do?
Tuesday, July 10, 2012
Juggling.
Despite my Mother's best efforts I am a romantic, loyal, one-man kinda woman. I believe in fidelity and forever love even though, as it turns out.. God has other plans for me (thus far). My mom is constantly telling me that I owe these men nothing, no need to be faithful and I am too young to commit myself to just one person, without a ring anyway. Though she makes a good point and I have tried on multiple occasions to be more like that, there is something inside of me that cannot see multiple people at one time. I can't even like more than one person, I have this internal battle where I end up choosing one over the other and then resent the one I choose and feel terrible for the one I let go. Which more often than not results is me drinking a bottle of wine alone, yet again. Some bullshit, huh?
Well this has been my cross to bare, until now that is. I don't know what happened or what changed. Maybe it was getting my heart ripped out and Adele-like stomped on? But now I am able to like sooooo many people. I can honestly say I have luke-warm to boiling hot feelings for multiple men at this moment.. and I don't care if none of them work out because I am enjoying this. Now, don't get me wrong I don't want to give you the impression that I've got guys banging down my door, not the case. In fact I'm still fucked in that department as ever.. but I've got game again. I'm meeting men out, some old flings, ok hook-ups new prospects, etc. I still don't think I could sleep with all these men at once (not literally, I'm not into gang-bangs) but you know, multiple partners. I may have guy-like casual tendencies and feelings toward sex, but I am still a woman- with feelings. Anyway, I digress, maybe the reason I am finally able to juggle all these feelings for men, which is a huge victory in itself, whether or not these guys realize that I do in fact like them - I am just excited that I am capable of it. Here's how: I realized I am compartmentalizing my "feelings."
I've finally used my over analytic mind for success rather than at the detriment of my own sanity and relationships. I've pegged which kind of guys these are: There is the one I could date, the one I could develop something fun with, the one I really just want to sleep with (if we're being honest), the one who just gets me (and continues to talk to me, despite that), the one who keeps me on my toes, the one I want to tame etc.
Now if the one who is just eye candy ends up moving on, I don't give a fuck - because I've pegged him as that part (fully expecting him to do that). - I win.
If the guy who just gets me, continues to just be there and nothing ever develops from that, then that's fine too. - Because, I've locked him down in a forever "possibly" situation. Nothing has developed thus far, so it's not like i'm begging for it to. - I win.
The one who keeps me on my toes is tricky. He is also the one I think I could maybe date; possibly. If this guy ever nuts up, then great! If not, I reckon' I'll be slightly hurt. But.. at the same time, if I am hurt.. I've got my distractions. - I half win?
If I can't tame the one I want to tame. No big deal, I've already placed him in a tiny little insignificant compartment in my head as untameable. I'll just have fun trying. - I win.
Now if your're judging me.. right now. Fuck off. Yes, I am a woman, yes I'm being very honest right now. Yes, I've probably just ruined any chance with the men mentioned above.. but whatever. Like I said, I don't sleep with more than one partner at a time. And even if I did, Men have a saying, I'm sure most are familiar with, "spreading the seed". Well.. maybe its time for the ladies' flowers to get cross-pollinated. Boom.
Consider me,
Cross-Pollinated.
Well this has been my cross to bare, until now that is. I don't know what happened or what changed. Maybe it was getting my heart ripped out and Adele-like stomped on? But now I am able to like sooooo many people. I can honestly say I have luke-warm to boiling hot feelings for multiple men at this moment.. and I don't care if none of them work out because I am enjoying this. Now, don't get me wrong I don't want to give you the impression that I've got guys banging down my door, not the case. In fact I'm still fucked in that department as ever.. but I've got game again. I'm meeting men out, some old flings, ok hook-ups new prospects, etc. I still don't think I could sleep with all these men at once (not literally, I'm not into gang-bangs) but you know, multiple partners. I may have guy-like casual tendencies and feelings toward sex, but I am still a woman- with feelings. Anyway, I digress, maybe the reason I am finally able to juggle all these feelings for men, which is a huge victory in itself, whether or not these guys realize that I do in fact like them - I am just excited that I am capable of it. Here's how: I realized I am compartmentalizing my "feelings."
I've finally used my over analytic mind for success rather than at the detriment of my own sanity and relationships. I've pegged which kind of guys these are: There is the one I could date, the one I could develop something fun with, the one I really just want to sleep with (if we're being honest), the one who just gets me (and continues to talk to me, despite that), the one who keeps me on my toes, the one I want to tame etc.
Now if the one who is just eye candy ends up moving on, I don't give a fuck - because I've pegged him as that part (fully expecting him to do that). - I win.
If the guy who just gets me, continues to just be there and nothing ever develops from that, then that's fine too. - Because, I've locked him down in a forever "possibly" situation. Nothing has developed thus far, so it's not like i'm begging for it to. - I win.
The one who keeps me on my toes is tricky. He is also the one I think I could maybe date; possibly. If this guy ever nuts up, then great! If not, I reckon' I'll be slightly hurt. But.. at the same time, if I am hurt.. I've got my distractions. - I half win?
If I can't tame the one I want to tame. No big deal, I've already placed him in a tiny little insignificant compartment in my head as untameable. I'll just have fun trying. - I win.
Now if your're judging me.. right now. Fuck off. Yes, I am a woman, yes I'm being very honest right now. Yes, I've probably just ruined any chance with the men mentioned above.. but whatever. Like I said, I don't sleep with more than one partner at a time. And even if I did, Men have a saying, I'm sure most are familiar with, "spreading the seed". Well.. maybe its time for the ladies' flowers to get cross-pollinated. Boom.
Consider me,
Cross-Pollinated.
Thursday, June 14, 2012
No. I don't like it.
This is a twofer:
Ladies, how many times have you said, "I've never done this before" or "I don't usually do this" or "that was my first time" or my personal favortie, "yep, I did.. a couple times."
Who are we really helping when we speak these godforsaken lies? Are we helping ourselves, NO sure as hell aren't. Do you feel better, relieved, satisfied? Nope. No you don't. Are we helping the men, maybe at first. The initial stress and pressure they might feel is relieved.. but then they go on about their business thinking we are fully satisfied, when in fact we are far from it. We end up perpetuating this cycle of lackluster sexual experiences to no avail.
Let me tell you something, I too have been a victim of these fake reassurances and it got me absolutely nowhere. In the moment sure it seems like the right thing to do, especially when as a girl, you want to please this guy. You would do anything to make him feel good because you want him to stick around. Bullshit, it's bullshit! When really, all I'm thinking is yeah, you look real relieved must be fucking nice. I'm sure, actually I'm positive, that if the tables were turned, and you ladies were how should I put this.. "pleasing" your man and maybe it wasn't exactly to their liking, that they sure as shit gave you some pointers. Am I right? Enough said.
Also, what about the "that was the first" lie. My issue with this is, yes when it's good, its good. Then, when the relationship goes south into an inferno of flames (as mine typically do) then what. Then that asshole goes around for the rest of his life thinking "yep, I was the first to ...." as if he's metaphorically placed his flag in some part of your anatomy, some real Neil Armstrong shit. No, I refuse to give that to anyone else. From now on I'm just going to be like, "it was aight, been there done that."
Here's my quandary: if we tell the truth, and suggest some pointers are we really risking the relationship? If so, is that the kind of relationship or man you want? If they can't take criticism and would rather walk away tail between their legs, should we really go to such lengths as forsaking our own pleasure to keep this douche canoe happy?
I've been thinking about this issue for a while and have been consciously avoiding doing anything of the sort. Example you say, well.. I along with every woman I know hate, despise, loathe when a guy asks if "you like it." We hate having to reassure you whilst in the act. Literally, nothing annoys me more, so one time I just stopped pushed him away and point blank said, "No. No I don't. Stop talking." I was nervous that, that would be the end of that, instead he listened and I never had to deal with that shit again. Some guys do listen.
But, I'm still single. So most guys don't listen. Most guys aren't worth the lies.
Oh, and if you're a guy reading this, I hope you learned something. Because you are a guy let me sum it up real quick. No, we probably didn't, it wasn't the first time, yes I have had better and for the love of god, no I don't like it.
Ladies, how many times have you said, "I've never done this before" or "I don't usually do this" or "that was my first time" or my personal favortie, "yep, I did.. a couple times."
Who are we really helping when we speak these godforsaken lies? Are we helping ourselves, NO sure as hell aren't. Do you feel better, relieved, satisfied? Nope. No you don't. Are we helping the men, maybe at first. The initial stress and pressure they might feel is relieved.. but then they go on about their business thinking we are fully satisfied, when in fact we are far from it. We end up perpetuating this cycle of lackluster sexual experiences to no avail.
Let me tell you something, I too have been a victim of these fake reassurances and it got me absolutely nowhere. In the moment sure it seems like the right thing to do, especially when as a girl, you want to please this guy. You would do anything to make him feel good because you want him to stick around. Bullshit, it's bullshit! When really, all I'm thinking is yeah, you look real relieved must be fucking nice. I'm sure, actually I'm positive, that if the tables were turned, and you ladies were how should I put this.. "pleasing" your man and maybe it wasn't exactly to their liking, that they sure as shit gave you some pointers. Am I right? Enough said.
Also, what about the "that was the first" lie. My issue with this is, yes when it's good, its good. Then, when the relationship goes south into an inferno of flames (as mine typically do) then what. Then that asshole goes around for the rest of his life thinking "yep, I was the first to ...." as if he's metaphorically placed his flag in some part of your anatomy, some real Neil Armstrong shit. No, I refuse to give that to anyone else. From now on I'm just going to be like, "it was aight, been there done that."
Here's my quandary: if we tell the truth, and suggest some pointers are we really risking the relationship? If so, is that the kind of relationship or man you want? If they can't take criticism and would rather walk away tail between their legs, should we really go to such lengths as forsaking our own pleasure to keep this douche canoe happy?
I've been thinking about this issue for a while and have been consciously avoiding doing anything of the sort. Example you say, well.. I along with every woman I know hate, despise, loathe when a guy asks if "you like it." We hate having to reassure you whilst in the act. Literally, nothing annoys me more, so one time I just stopped pushed him away and point blank said, "No. No I don't. Stop talking." I was nervous that, that would be the end of that, instead he listened and I never had to deal with that shit again. Some guys do listen.
But, I'm still single. So most guys don't listen. Most guys aren't worth the lies.
Oh, and if you're a guy reading this, I hope you learned something. Because you are a guy let me sum it up real quick. No, we probably didn't, it wasn't the first time, yes I have had better and for the love of god, no I don't like it.
Tuesday, May 15, 2012
Just Around the River Bend
Single in the summer. Though it has its perks, such as debauchery with no one to "report" to or no one to consider when making plans on a whim, can also have tons of sad sad feelings of loneliness. Surely I have not always felt like this, but this is the summer after an amazing summer last year,where I was - one of those couples. The ones I now loathe, despise even, has made me painfully aware of what this summer will lack. Now.. when thinking of all the things I missed - which started with just this summer conundrum such as: romantic river trips, driving down to the beach on a whim, kayaking together, wine tastings, summer concerts under the oak trees, patio drinking etc I realized there is something more I miss. Sex. Sex on the regular, like whenever I want it. All of these events that I remember so fondly.. led to great but short sex.
Now is my time.. I can feel it. It's as Pocahontas would put it, "just around the river-bend" I am not desperate or anything, if I really wanted to get laid, or as a lady would put it, "watch a movie" with someone, I could. I'm just over the casualness-empty feelings of a sober morning-regret. Now don't hold me to this on a drunken Saturday night come 2:30am. I understand that this blog post is a bit uncomfortable to talk about.. but clearly, I'm inappropriate, but isn't that why you're reading this and love me? Here is some real quick footnotes about my life. My Mom, who drives me ape-shit is a nurse at a middle school in my home town. She knows all my friends and all the kids who hate me. She, at one time was the Sex-Ed teacher. She took that knowledge along with some bullshit "subliminal" parenting guide she once picked up to drill safe sex into my brain from the age of 9. Yes, NINE. I didn't have the Birds and the Bees talk, I had diagrams and National Geographic. I was never taught that sex was a taboo subject or wrong, or was sacred and reserved for marriage (though it was encouraged). Not that I'm in any way blaming my mother, in fact, quite the opposite. I loved it, except when she would drop my friends and I off at the bowling alley at the age of 13 and say "remember girls, Wrap it UP!" I wish I was kidding. I think that I have way less issues than some people, when it comes to sex, intimacy, communication etc because of how open my Mom and I are about sex. For that, I am thankful, because let's face it - sex is fun.
So with that knowledge, I can't help myself but stare at couples who are clearly having lots of sex, because they are so lovey dovey and gross, PDA'ing it up all over Austin. Just mocking me. Teasing. Rubbing it in. Bastards. I people-watch, now I've turned that sport into couple-watching. I catch myself wondering how often they have sex. This is ridiculous, I'm aware. But those assholes have the greatest release of frustration and well, I'm frustrated. These feelings coupled with 50 shades of Grey, 7 days of sex on TLC, and anxiously awaiting thew new season of True Blood...does not make for a pleasant summer.
To be clear, it's not just the act of sex that I miss. It's the intimacy, the mutual respect for one another in a relationship, the eagerness to please each-other. It is the simple fact that you love them or at least, care enough to want to please them.I want that again. I NEED that. So if you are currently in a relationship, and you are those couples, fuck you. No really, treasure it. Be the best version of yourself and let the petty things go, because those sexually-frustrated and single as fuck people like me.. are hanging back in the shadows.. waiting for you to slip up and snag the person you took for granted. Mwuahaha.
Thursday, April 26, 2012
being a lady...
Now, clearly trying to avoid both these things.. I'm turning over a new leaf. I'm attempting to be a very modern lady. So keeping what makes me, me and making that less offensive. Also growing up has real way of ensuring karma finds you. You start to realize a lot of what you judged people for a mere 3-5 years ago is exactly what you crave. Karma is a real bitch.
Examples:
Hey, wanna have sex?
lady translation: Shall we lay together, in the biblical sense?
I'm fucking starving.
"oh, I'm not that hungry, I'll just have a salad."
let's go out and get waaaasted!!!
let's get dinner and maybe a glass of wine. I don't want to get too tipsy. OR let's go dancing!
Bitch please.
ohh, girl, you are too much.
Eww did that guy just hit on you, he's gross
ohh, did that guy hit on you, does he have a job? oh he does.. you should go out with him. --does he have a brother, or friend?
She's engaged? WTF we still have all of our 20s.
she's engaged? omg i'm sooo jealous. Does he have any single friends?
You met on Facebook? --ugh
How do I connect my Facebook to my dating profile sites?
Fuck you.
bless your heart
God-damnit-shit-balls-fuck
ohh my word.
Saturday night raging!
wednesday night dinners?
This is a real problem for me. I am not a lady. I guess... i'll just have to wait around for someone to like me for me. lord help me.
Wednesday, April 11, 2012
Good Luck Chuck (Sam)
Good Luck Chuck Syndrome: is when after you finish dating someone, and their next bf/gf is the one they end up marrying. The syndrome mostly found amongst women and men in their 20's and 30's. This mostly occurs amongst hopeless romantics, and those that continually search for love. urban dictionary
I have a severe case of GLC Syndrome. To call me perturbed would be an understatement, I am discomposed, constantly anxious, and pathetic. Mostly pathetic. Everyone gets married.. everyone but me. I have had 4 serious relationships and countless affairs. (affairs are a classy way of saying flings, right?) Out of those 4 serious relationships 3 are married. I can't bring myself to check up on the last one because.. I am no masochist.
Not only are those 3 married, but here's how the story goes down. 1st this guy I dated in High School and freshman year of College, who was ---slightly older than me, cheats on me, we break up, get back together, finally break up for good then moves on. So I thought, then this guy comes out of the blue, a couple years later confesses his love for me, apologizes for everything, begs me to take him back and says, "you are the one." --Being 20 I ran for the hills, because for one, I would never be able to trust someone who cheated on me. Secondly, I don't give second chances often and I sure as hell won't give you a third. Six months later he is married.
Then there was my second serious relationship, who I would consider my first love. I fell hard, fast and hard. So did he.. he however fell out of it at the same pace..meanwhile I was in unicorns and glitter land of eternal love and bullshit. Completely caught off guard by his infidelity (yet again) and sobbed myself dry for 6 months. A year later guess who come running back... douche. I get this speech about how he took me for granted and finally realized I was "the one". Followed by promises of commitment, unicorns and glitter la la land etc. Sounds vaguely familiar I thought.. Coincidence, I told myself.. followed by a self fulfilling notion of how awesome I am.. and of course they realized they fucked up. Surely.. that was it, because I was nothing but loving to these guys. Right?! I decided that breaking up was a good thing, he could never offer me the life I wanted and I could never trust him. Nine months to a year later he was married.
Next, in my legal drinking age year of debauchery I managed to snag another boyfriend. The year of 21 was a blur but this fella and I had some good times. We were neighbors and blossomed into a budding romance. blah blah blah. This one, I kind of kick myself in the ass for, because it was understood that he would be moving that year and wan't interested in a long distance relationshit. (and yes, RELATIONSHIT.) Being of the female population I ignored this red flag and instead saw this as a challenge. Well, guess who lost. Comes time for him to move, we break up but manage to stay friends. Sometimes, when he came back in town to visit, we were very friendly. We both move on but continue to keep in touch then boom, in the midst of the flirting and reliving good times..metaphorically and physically.. he is dating someone, gets engaged then married with child. Naturally once I am aware of the engagement/marriage I cut all ties. Then, guess who has repressed feelings. Not me. I start getting frequent messages about how much fun we had together, how amazing I was etc etc. By this time, it wasn't flattering anymore. Instead the more I heard about how amazing I was, it only enraged me. I wanted to neuter every man on the planet and scream at these men who just now realized I was a good catch when they're about to get hitched to someone else. Too little, way too late. Naturally I block this married man from every form of contact and wished him well in his marriage, in case he forgot that he was, indeed married.
These three along with the countless men I have had affairs with that are now married or engaged has led me to believe, I am in fact cursed. I have this Good Luck Chuck Syndrome. I give up. I am at the point of deferring all dating choices to my mother, who has to her benefit warned me about these three men, never once approving of any of them. She made a terrible choice in her own life partner, my father, but that's a whole other blog. I digress. She knows me better than I know myself so I would like to relinquish all future dating decisions to my Mother and maybe I can get sold for a dowry or a goat or something and have the wedding I yearn for. I have excellent references, just call any of the exes above who realized how special I was when they settled for others.
I am doomed. Fucking unicorns and glitter and eternal love la la land of bullshit. Fuck Nicolas Sparks, fuck Celine Dion and fuck Faith Hill &Tim McGraw.
I have a severe case of GLC Syndrome. To call me perturbed would be an understatement, I am discomposed, constantly anxious, and pathetic. Mostly pathetic. Everyone gets married.. everyone but me. I have had 4 serious relationships and countless affairs. (affairs are a classy way of saying flings, right?) Out of those 4 serious relationships 3 are married. I can't bring myself to check up on the last one because.. I am no masochist.
Not only are those 3 married, but here's how the story goes down. 1st this guy I dated in High School and freshman year of College, who was ---slightly older than me, cheats on me, we break up, get back together, finally break up for good then moves on. So I thought, then this guy comes out of the blue, a couple years later confesses his love for me, apologizes for everything, begs me to take him back and says, "you are the one." --Being 20 I ran for the hills, because for one, I would never be able to trust someone who cheated on me. Secondly, I don't give second chances often and I sure as hell won't give you a third. Six months later he is married.
Then there was my second serious relationship, who I would consider my first love. I fell hard, fast and hard. So did he.. he however fell out of it at the same pace..meanwhile I was in unicorns and glitter land of eternal love and bullshit. Completely caught off guard by his infidelity (yet again) and sobbed myself dry for 6 months. A year later guess who come running back... douche. I get this speech about how he took me for granted and finally realized I was "the one". Followed by promises of commitment, unicorns and glitter la la land etc. Sounds vaguely familiar I thought.. Coincidence, I told myself.. followed by a self fulfilling notion of how awesome I am.. and of course they realized they fucked up. Surely.. that was it, because I was nothing but loving to these guys. Right?! I decided that breaking up was a good thing, he could never offer me the life I wanted and I could never trust him. Nine months to a year later he was married.
Next, in my legal drinking age year of debauchery I managed to snag another boyfriend. The year of 21 was a blur but this fella and I had some good times. We were neighbors and blossomed into a budding romance. blah blah blah. This one, I kind of kick myself in the ass for, because it was understood that he would be moving that year and wan't interested in a long distance relationshit. (and yes, RELATIONSHIT.) Being of the female population I ignored this red flag and instead saw this as a challenge. Well, guess who lost. Comes time for him to move, we break up but manage to stay friends. Sometimes, when he came back in town to visit, we were very friendly. We both move on but continue to keep in touch then boom, in the midst of the flirting and reliving good times..metaphorically and physically.. he is dating someone, gets engaged then married with child. Naturally once I am aware of the engagement/marriage I cut all ties. Then, guess who has repressed feelings. Not me. I start getting frequent messages about how much fun we had together, how amazing I was etc etc. By this time, it wasn't flattering anymore. Instead the more I heard about how amazing I was, it only enraged me. I wanted to neuter every man on the planet and scream at these men who just now realized I was a good catch when they're about to get hitched to someone else. Too little, way too late. Naturally I block this married man from every form of contact and wished him well in his marriage, in case he forgot that he was, indeed married.
These three along with the countless men I have had affairs with that are now married or engaged has led me to believe, I am in fact cursed. I have this Good Luck Chuck Syndrome. I give up. I am at the point of deferring all dating choices to my mother, who has to her benefit warned me about these three men, never once approving of any of them. She made a terrible choice in her own life partner, my father, but that's a whole other blog. I digress. She knows me better than I know myself so I would like to relinquish all future dating decisions to my Mother and maybe I can get sold for a dowry or a goat or something and have the wedding I yearn for. I have excellent references, just call any of the exes above who realized how special I was when they settled for others.
I am doomed. Fucking unicorns and glitter and eternal love la la land of bullshit. Fuck Nicolas Sparks, fuck Celine Dion and fuck Faith Hill &Tim McGraw.
Monday, March 12, 2012
A Guy's Perspective
My friend and Co-worker, Mick and I disagree on just about everything; religion, politics, social issues, music etc. We are complete opposites, he is white, republican, and a man. I am, well, none of those things. The one thing we can agree on (most of the time) is dating. He says men are purposely distant and avoid any sort of conversation that may lead to speaking of commitment. With that said, I couldn't agree more. We also agree that women.. as near and dear to my heart, are crazy. We see terms like, "casual" "low-maintenance" "no strings, fun" as challenges, not literally. This is the biggest disconnect between the two sexes. (Granted there is an exception to every rule. Some girls are very capable of being casual - I think I am one of them, and not all guys are dirtbags, though I've yet to see that for myself.)
These are just some conversations for some intuitive background:
[on dumping one girl for another or dating both]
These are just some conversations for some intuitive background:
[on dumping one girl for another or dating both]
Mick says (3:57 PM)
want to d8 or b4n9?
Samantha Ramos says (3:57 PM)
if i were a guy i'd man the fuck up and call
both?
Mick says (3:57 PM)
ya
then text maybe?
[on dating my friends, notice the initial expectancy of "relationship"]
Samantha Ramos says
i'd like to keep my friends.. if i introduce them to you... they'd hate
me
Mick says (10:15 AM)
just for like a month it wouldnt last long
Samantha Ramos says (10:15 AM)
exactly
Mick says (10:15 AM)
quick and painless like tearing off a band aid
[on being "casual"]
Mick ck says (10:10 AM)
i usually like to keep it really vague, ambiguous and as confusing for the girl as possible
that way she will have to put herself out there if she likes you, but you leave yourself some wiggle room too and then the ball is in your court
Now, I'm not trying to throw Mick under the bus at all. He is honest, with me. We help each other out by analyzing the conversations and subtext of our quandaries. I often see the other side of my problems, through him. I can see how it is confusing when a girl says, "yea I'm not looking for anything serious either" -what she really means is, "challenge accepted." or yea, "I don't care if you date other people.." -what she means is, "i'm going to be worse than the CIA and stalk the shit out of you and this supposed other girl, showing you all of my crazy."
So, it's not all guys fault.. though don't hold this against me later. There is a huge disconnect between the subtext of our words. Guys will honestly be more literal. Usually what the say they mean. Girls on the other hand, assume there is more to analyze and will rarely say what they mean. Women will be very careful to mold into what they think or assume the guy wants..presenting the best or altered version of themselves then wonder why it didn't work. Probably because as soon you you dropped the act, shit hit the fan.. then you blame the guy but really if you were just honest about yourself.. you maybe could have spared yourself the pain.
On another hand, how the hell do you get a guy to ..well.. how do you get a guy? If they all are conscious about avoiding anything remotely reeking of commitment ...what do you do? What I've learned from Mick, is that he liked a girl who was just herself from the beginning. She made moves first wasn't afraid to initiate.. was funny and nice. So maybe just doing and saying things you actually mean is best. Be yourself because at least if you are yourself you won't have to keep an act up. Let's face it, dating is hard enough as it is.. why throw acting in to the mix.
Wednesday, February 15, 2012
Satisfactory Life No Longer
Do you remember report cards from elementary school? The ones that didn't have letter grades, instead they had Excellent, Satisfactory and Poor etc.. Do you remember that feeling you had when you got a Satisfactory? (I did get a few, but not many; I was an overachiever as a child) that was the worst feeling..because those of us that did get a rare "S" were never expecting it, we weren't aware of our mediocrity..then some bastard teacher calls us on it. Well my life could be graded as Satisfactory.
I'm far from Poor, I have my health, my family, friends, decent job* (decent is a stretch, but in the times of skyrocketing unemployment, I'm lucky.) I'm not Excellent either, I'm no genius, I don't have a high paying job, I wasn't smart enough to stay away from a Liberal Arts Degree, I'm what you call; single (ouch), I have never been married, I constantly get hurt in relationships and friendships, I'm not the most traveled person, I am in student loan debt (as many of us are)..etc. (this list can go on). So I'm Satisfactory, I'm not poor, not excellent, just stuck in the middle like most of us and I'm sick of it. I lack follow through, I can be described as apathetic to most things, I have a passion for few issues, and on those I make it known. However, I may not actually DO anything about it..I mostly rant. This is my problem and this is what I shall strive to correct. I think there is way for me to be Excellent, the only thing stopping me is ME. Tons of people from a situation such as mine and worse even have made it very far. These people had a drive and follow through and didn't stop because of rejection or an asshole that deters their life plan. NO, they persevered, and so shall I.
I have no clue how to do this, but I do know that if something is important to me...I'm going to do it! So here's my list of things I hope to achieve, do, love etc.
This is all I can think of... for now, but I fully intent to spend my life trying to accomplish the things that truly matter to me, trivial and otherwise. I WILL be a better person, with the life I want..because otherwise, I'm not living.
I'm far from Poor, I have my health, my family, friends, decent job* (decent is a stretch, but in the times of skyrocketing unemployment, I'm lucky.) I'm not Excellent either, I'm no genius, I don't have a high paying job, I wasn't smart enough to stay away from a Liberal Arts Degree, I'm what you call; single (ouch), I have never been married, I constantly get hurt in relationships and friendships, I'm not the most traveled person, I am in student loan debt (as many of us are)..etc. (this list can go on). So I'm Satisfactory, I'm not poor, not excellent, just stuck in the middle like most of us and I'm sick of it. I lack follow through, I can be described as apathetic to most things, I have a passion for few issues, and on those I make it known. However, I may not actually DO anything about it..I mostly rant. This is my problem and this is what I shall strive to correct. I think there is way for me to be Excellent, the only thing stopping me is ME. Tons of people from a situation such as mine and worse even have made it very far. These people had a drive and follow through and didn't stop because of rejection or an asshole that deters their life plan. NO, they persevered, and so shall I.
I have no clue how to do this, but I do know that if something is important to me...I'm going to do it! So here's my list of things I hope to achieve, do, love etc.
- Find a CAREER, not a job that makes me happy, that I enjoy (rather than dread).
- Find a way into the music industry - PR, Marketing, A&R, Management etc.
- Marry "the one"
- Earn at least 60k
- Write and publish a book
- Travel: NOLA, Bonaroo, sasquatch, Greece, Italy(take my mom), NY, Machu Picchu etc.
- Move out of state - start over.
- Do something that scares me once a year
- Take a massive road trip with close friends
- Get more tattoos: tree, floral & feather sleeve, something meaningful
- Resolve my relationship with my Father - for good.
- Figure out who is really there for me and cherish them. Discard the rest.
- Quit being such a doormat to people who don't deserve me.
- Pick the guitar back up - and make it my bitch.
- Take my Brother snowboarding for his 18th Birthday.
- Start a College fund the day I get pregnant -if and when I ever do.
- Volunteer
- Be more crafty - make things.
- Own a home.
- Do one good deed a day that goes unnoticed.
- Learn to cook authentic Mexican food from my Grandma, before it's too late.
- Make a Thanksgiving meal, by myself.
This is all I can think of... for now, but I fully intent to spend my life trying to accomplish the things that truly matter to me, trivial and otherwise. I WILL be a better person, with the life I want..because otherwise, I'm not living.
Friday, February 3, 2012
Another Year Older, None The Wiser...
I turned 25, yay?
I mean, at least I made it to 25, yaaaaaay! (that's more like it.) To commemorate my birth, I decided we should play pub golf. What is pub golf you say? Well, it is basically the world's worst drinking game. Each bar is a "hole" that has a respective par (3, 4, 5) in golf you want to have the lowest score possible, as in this drinking game. Now, to do this, you must drink more and include a dare of my choosing. Now, with that said, I was in control of the rules.. haha. My friends, thank god, were up for the challenge and really gave this a shot. This, did not end well. (Below is the now infamous score card)
It all went south at hole 4. What was I thinking with popsicle martini, what is the popsicle martini you ask?
This:
Not only did I drink this all vodka martini (mixer is the popsicle), I chugged it and chased it with a birthday shot, that some very cute stranger bought me as I awkwardly brought up ATX Hipsters (see score card above.)
This is where the night gets hazy.. aww hell who am I kidding, this is where my memory disappears. Somehow, I made it in to the next bar and apparently, so I'm told, I threw back a shot of Jameson, chugged a beer, flirted with birthday shot boy, invited him to join our pub golf crawl and lost the ability to stand up alone. Perfect, classy 25th right? Wrong, I not only made a fool of myself and missed cute boys face, I landed on his shoulder, puckered up..then decided to take a little nap there. FUCK! I'm a mess (hence score card title.) That being said, my friends voted me off the island. They literally voted me off, called a cab sent Frankie home with me and put me in bed. Thank God. That level of messiness did not need to be seen by any more strangers.
Next thing I remember is waking up at 7am, immediately I look for my phone, great still there. I then proceed to send everyone this message, "I have no clue what time I left. What I know is I woke up surrounded by napkins, trash can, seltzer water and my purse..so I'm guessing I was wasted..sorry, hope you had fun!!" The responses I received were hilarious. This is how I know my friends are amazing. Thank you all for the fun, the shots and the pain Sunday morning. 25 couldn't have been spent better, you all are amazing! Let's never repeat that night.
I mean, at least I made it to 25, yaaaaaay! (that's more like it.) To commemorate my birth, I decided we should play pub golf. What is pub golf you say? Well, it is basically the world's worst drinking game. Each bar is a "hole" that has a respective par (3, 4, 5) in golf you want to have the lowest score possible, as in this drinking game. Now, to do this, you must drink more and include a dare of my choosing. Now, with that said, I was in control of the rules.. haha. My friends, thank god, were up for the challenge and really gave this a shot. This, did not end well. (Below is the now infamous score card)
It all went south at hole 4. What was I thinking with popsicle martini, what is the popsicle martini you ask?
This:
This is where the night gets hazy.. aww hell who am I kidding, this is where my memory disappears. Somehow, I made it in to the next bar and apparently, so I'm told, I threw back a shot of Jameson, chugged a beer, flirted with birthday shot boy, invited him to join our pub golf crawl and lost the ability to stand up alone. Perfect, classy 25th right? Wrong, I not only made a fool of myself and missed cute boys face, I landed on his shoulder, puckered up..then decided to take a little nap there. FUCK! I'm a mess (hence score card title.) That being said, my friends voted me off the island. They literally voted me off, called a cab sent Frankie home with me and put me in bed. Thank God. That level of messiness did not need to be seen by any more strangers.
Next thing I remember is waking up at 7am, immediately I look for my phone, great still there. I then proceed to send everyone this message, "I have no clue what time I left. What I know is I woke up surrounded by napkins, trash can, seltzer water and my purse..so I'm guessing I was wasted..sorry, hope you had fun!!" The responses I received were hilarious. This is how I know my friends are amazing. Thank you all for the fun, the shots and the pain Sunday morning. 25 couldn't have been spent better, you all are amazing! Let's never repeat that night.
Monday, January 16, 2012
she only sexts when she drinks.
My name is Sam, and I am a drunk sexter texter.
Welcome, this club, unlike the secretive and fraternity-like selective group of AA, are not so anonymous. Mostly becuase our disease follows us. We have no choice, even if we wanted to be anonymous, as most normal humans would, we have friends and mistakes that like to remind us of our inebriated ridiculousness.
Now, if you're anything like me, which I'd like to think if we're friends then you are, you also suffer from this problem. I don't know what kind of demon inhabits my body after 3~7 drinks but that little asshole that takes over my mind, body and most importantly, my cell phone...really has it out for me. I lose dignity, respect, the upper hand, you name it. What's worse is that sober, I don't feel the same. (typically.)
I'm sick and tired of being the girl you want to sleep with, not the one you want to date. I'm all grown up and secure with myself. I know what I want and what I don't want. I can see the red flags early on and I am able to steer clear of messy situations, thanks to previous experiences. I am not only learning from my mistakes but I'm in search of getting what I want...with one little exception.
I'm confusing as fuck when I drunk text.
I know that not all girls will admit this but sometimes we are human too. We aren't just women who were taught to be ladies. We are people with the same hormones, needs and feelings other people have (men). Now, this doesn't really match up with my, "I'm so grown up, I'm the girl you can marry, you should date me" persona I'm trying to portray, but sometimes my disease gets the best of me.
The worst part about this drunk texting situation is the awkward conversations that follow in the sober morning. Nothing will make you feel worse about yourself than seeing what you wrote. It's as if you have two personalities, Dr. Jekel and Mrs. Sexual, if you will. Once you put yourself in this situation of being someones late night drunken text friend, you can't escape this role. You can kiss any real chance at dating this person goodbye. You are no longer an option, instead you are plan B, congrats. You will be the one you're "friend" will start to sext at 1:30 am because they aren't having any luck at whatever bar they're at.
Maybe they're bored one day at work and rather than put in any real effort in talking to someone, they'll text you.. they're may be some glimmer of hope in a non-sexual, "hey, how's your day going" but trust... that sexual undertone is sneaking its way in soon. This leads me to my real problem. I have self sabotaged any real chance I might have had with guys I actually like by engaging in this drunk texting relationship too quickly. Instead of being honest with myself, sober and figuring out what it is I feel for these men, I let myself figure it out in a drunken state. Ridiculous. Now don't get me wrong, I don't completely blame myself, because I believe if a guy really likes you and wants to date you, that drunk texting, is just another bonus. Any guy with an interest in a girl who sends them a slightly sexual message would appreciate the gesture. However, a guy with no intent to commit sees this as an excuse or get out of jail free card. He can just as easily blame you and you're messy casual-like messaging as the reason for not leading to anything as his committmentphobic lack of interest.
Ladies(Sam), we must find a way to separate the men we like from the men we casually sext. Because let's face it.. asking a drunk texter to not drunk text is like asking a fish to not swim. Impossible. Rather than let ourselves down with false hope, let's get it together. Let us see men clearly and establish our own feelings first. I shall now categorize my phone by First name, Last nameDNS (Do Not Sext). This shall solve all my problems. Granted, that's if my alter ego, Mrs. Sexual allows it. On another note, I will no longer speak to anyone who unprovokingly drunk texts me. I now understand that if they only message me in the sexual late night manner, they most likely have no interest in dating me. Rather than reciprocate, to fill in a boyfriend-ish void, I will no longer participate. That ship has sailed. If you cannot talk to me on the phone or message me at a decent hour without any liquid courage and better yet cannot speak to me without any sexual subtext, then I have no business speaking to you. I have enough friends and I'm not in the market for new ones.
Tis the year of kicking the sexting habit. Here's to not hating myself and my phone in the morning. Cheers!
Welcome, this club, unlike the secretive and fraternity-like selective group of AA, are not so anonymous. Mostly becuase our disease follows us. We have no choice, even if we wanted to be anonymous, as most normal humans would, we have friends and mistakes that like to remind us of our inebriated ridiculousness.
Now, if you're anything like me, which I'd like to think if we're friends then you are, you also suffer from this problem. I don't know what kind of demon inhabits my body after 3~7 drinks but that little asshole that takes over my mind, body and most importantly, my cell phone...really has it out for me. I lose dignity, respect, the upper hand, you name it. What's worse is that sober, I don't feel the same. (typically.)
I'm sick and tired of being the girl you want to sleep with, not the one you want to date. I'm all grown up and secure with myself. I know what I want and what I don't want. I can see the red flags early on and I am able to steer clear of messy situations, thanks to previous experiences. I am not only learning from my mistakes but I'm in search of getting what I want...with one little exception.
I'm confusing as fuck when I drunk text.
I know that not all girls will admit this but sometimes we are human too. We aren't just women who were taught to be ladies. We are people with the same hormones, needs and feelings other people have (men). Now, this doesn't really match up with my, "I'm so grown up, I'm the girl you can marry, you should date me" persona I'm trying to portray, but sometimes my disease gets the best of me.
The worst part about this drunk texting situation is the awkward conversations that follow in the sober morning. Nothing will make you feel worse about yourself than seeing what you wrote. It's as if you have two personalities, Dr. Jekel and Mrs. Sexual, if you will. Once you put yourself in this situation of being someones late night drunken text friend, you can't escape this role. You can kiss any real chance at dating this person goodbye. You are no longer an option, instead you are plan B, congrats. You will be the one you're "friend" will start to sext at 1:30 am because they aren't having any luck at whatever bar they're at.
Maybe they're bored one day at work and rather than put in any real effort in talking to someone, they'll text you.. they're may be some glimmer of hope in a non-sexual, "hey, how's your day going" but trust... that sexual undertone is sneaking its way in soon. This leads me to my real problem. I have self sabotaged any real chance I might have had with guys I actually like by engaging in this drunk texting relationship too quickly. Instead of being honest with myself, sober and figuring out what it is I feel for these men, I let myself figure it out in a drunken state. Ridiculous. Now don't get me wrong, I don't completely blame myself, because I believe if a guy really likes you and wants to date you, that drunk texting, is just another bonus. Any guy with an interest in a girl who sends them a slightly sexual message would appreciate the gesture. However, a guy with no intent to commit sees this as an excuse or get out of jail free card. He can just as easily blame you and you're messy casual-like messaging as the reason for not leading to anything as his committmentphobic lack of interest.
Ladies
Tis the year of kicking the sexting habit. Here's to not hating myself and my phone in the morning. Cheers!
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