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Posts Tagged ‘Douche Bag’

I hit the pause button. I didn’t delete my profile, I just deactivated it. The idea of dating right now is exhausting and NOT in that fun and thrilling kind of way. The slew of douche bags (hello fiscally conservative guy who feels put upon by the poor), Utopian seeking (hola neuro surfing Aussie who wants pretty smiles and hot kisses BUT no real life), frigid/fickle-tons (flirting in the last 5 seconds of the date and kissing me ONLY then and never touching me… if you like me, touch me, if you don’t, stop calling me…PLEASE), with crazy ex’s (turns out Virginia’s ex was the cause of his flake…and I thank him, as she might have boiled all of my neighbors pets in a Glenn Close move, had he and I actually successfully gone out again)…. has broken me. I’m broken.

With my stalled career, lack of true income, unresolved health issue, and general malaise regarding being 37 and farther behind than I feel I should…I just can’t fake the dating right now. All I have the energy for is the comfort of old dances and familiar hands, as much as you may disagree, it’s the one solace I have at the moment, and it’s good that it came around when it did, because this is what I need.

 

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It’s Valentine’s Day and I went to sleep at 4 am. I drove to Type Geek’s home last night, dropped off his things, tried to pick up my own and it didn’t happen. He didn’t answer the door, he didn’t answer his phone. I stood, on his porch, in full regalia. Tight charcoal grey dress, fishnets, vintage inspired cream and black t-strap heels, and a push up bra that rivals plastic surgery. Why? Multiple reasons. 1) I was aiming for reaction. I wanted him to see what he was fucking up. 2)I hoped I was wrong. I hoped there was any other explanation for everything and that possibly I would find myself in his arms.

An hour after I left, after picking up Haagen Daaz and sitting down to an ice cream sundae with magic shell,  I received a text. 15 minutes of back and forth texting, I said he owed me at least a 5 minute phone conversation. 40 minutes into that conversation I realized that, in many ways, I was wrong. It truly WASN’T about me, it was all about him and how deeply he is hiding away in his fear. What is he afraid of, I don’t think he even knows. He’s overwhelmed by life, by family, by career and by responsibility, and crippled by it all. This isn’t just about me and my pain. This is also about him and his pain. He apologized for it all, he realized he had no explanations, no excuses that were worth expounding on, in the end, he just chose to put his head down and not see me, rather than look up and at me.

My friends keep chanting, “down with the douche bag.” , but it isn’t that easy, is it? Not when you love someone, not when you find that one person who fits into your puzzle and who you can accept for all his or her scars, faults, fears and baggage and in the end, you can actually see yourself with this person, regardless of all of that. You can see yourself old with them, a lifetime of experiences behind you both, years of joy that reduce the emphasis of the painful moments we all experience as human beings. When you are in love with someone whose broken pieces fit into your missing pieces. Something deep and unexplainable, unreachable, tells me that this man is worth fighting for. I just don’t know what to fight when he doesn’t know why he’s hiding.

In the end, we are final. It is final. Unless another solution to this issue presents itself, my ten months with Type Geek have come to an end. I end this message, on Valentine’s Day, with tears. Tears over what I found, a truly open and aware love that I was unaware I was capable of, and tears over what he and I are losing, collectively.

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What can I say that he doesn’t say himself?! Holy shit, this is ridiculous!!!

UPDATE: Apparently Greg D., the video guru himself, pulled ALL of his videos from YouTube after the ridicule he received from pretty much EVERYONE on the internet. I mean, really, are you suggesting that some douche bag comment on my shoes by teasing me and pretending to be my older brother? Yeah, that is HOT and definetly will get me into your “church pew”, as you like to call it.

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Tacky. This is what I told him. I couldn’t wait to say something. I texted him that it amazed me how he can be both brilliant and an utter moron, at the same exact time. He responded with a bold capital WTF?! Well, buddy, WTF this: it is TACKY to use a photo taken by a girl who likes you A LOT, whom you are currently sleeping with, as a tool for meeting other women. NOT cool. Again, TACKY.

He hasn’t responded. Suddenly the communication goes silent. He must realize, now, after I said this, that it was a TOTAL douche bag move, no?!

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Seriously though, I get chatted up by someone who asks how I am doing, someone whom I have never met because he lives in another state and refuses to put pictures of himself on his profile. Let me first say this, if you are doing internet dating, get over yourself and include some fucking photos. If I won’t buy produce I can’t fondle first, I won’t date you if I can’t see you first. If you have an issue with that, join a dating site for the blind!

Now, as I was saying… he asked how I have been, I explained that I had just been dropped by someone who I was casually seeing who, a couple weeks prior, I was realizing that perhaps I was beginning to fall in love with, however, I didn’t say the “L” word to this person, I merely stated that I was realizing that I cared a bit more than casual. This man then wanted to bad mouth my Spaniard. Ok, step back. He didn’t do anything wrong. He was respectful, he was honest, he was apologetic and he cares about me very much, which is why he wasn’t a dick, plus he is just a genuinely AWESOME person. Cynics back off, these people exist, perhaps only in Spain, but they do exist.

I informed this guy on OkCupid that I intended to be friends with Cooper Fiennes and he felt that was impossible. I inquired as to why and he felt that you can’t be intimate with someone and then be friends. He continued by saying that C.F. would gush about his new love to me, I replied that he isn’t like that and that he was accepting and understanding as I set out my requests, which were that I have no contact with C.F. and the girl in question when they are together, or her in general, at least for the mean time, that it would be too difficult for me as I needed time to put my emotions at rest and heal the wound. That because she had something I cherished, him, I just needed a buffer time. OkC DBag then says, quite matter of factly, that I like CF way too much to be friends. If I need time to rest any emotions, it’s too much. Who is this guy? Any REAL connection creates intense feelings, which, like boiling water, will need time to cool once removed from the heat source. I’m still in that weird barely simmering point, after all, we were in a rolling boil weeks ago fucking in a rental car on the waterfront. My knee wound hasn’t healed yet, why should my heart in two days?! Jesus Christ Dbag. Anyway, my response was, I’m not an obsessed stalker, I care about him and think he’s an amazing person, I would like to remain friends with him after he moves back to Spain. I continued on that he wasn’t a dick the way he ended things and that regardless, things were going to end in January, except they would have ended on a much more fun, far more sexually charged woo hoo way, rather than my tears because he started to fall in love with his co-worker. OkC then said the thing that made me sign out immediately… “See, you are just too into him, that’s why you are trying to rationalize it all to me.” Umm, hey DBag, no, I was answering your questions. I then told him I was ending the conversation because he had his own definite opinions and I wasn’t going to have a  pointless debate with him over an intense and wonderful emotional connection I have and had with an intense and wonderful man. He tried to have a response, however my account was signing out as his screen popped up. Sayonara DBag. It’s been two fucking days since I had someone I cared about telling me that they needed to stop seeing me because they are falling in love with their friend. Umm, I’m not hanging out at coffee shops near his work for fucks sake. Armchair relationship guru’s who are cynics AND single… should take a look in the mirror before making recommendations or analysis of the health or normality of another individual’s interpersonal relationships .

Tips for life….

  1. Don’t get your hair cut/ colored by someone who has bad hair.
  2. If your nutritionist/dietician is overweight… get a new one.
  3. If all of your architect friends tell you to buy in an up and coming neighborhood…don’t , UNLESS they are actually buying too.
  4. If you can’t pronounce the science experiment, a.k.a ingredients , in what you want to drink or eat…  don’t put it in your mouth.
  5. If your shrink sees a shrink, who sees a shrink… get the number for the shrink’s shrink’s shrink, Don’t go to the one that is completely FUCKED.
  6. Don’t date a shrink…for so many reasons
  7. Don’t take dating and love advice from cynical, misanthropic, perpetually single, afraid to expose themselves and be vulnerable (no photo?!!), armchair DBags.
  8. Don’t take dating advice from me… I’m a lesbian who started dating men…I know that women are crazy (we are) and men are daft (you are). I know not much else. Oh wait…. umm… the meaning of life consists of stockings, jewish cock, good music and great food!

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Brooklyn Boy commented tonight,” You really are infatuated with me, aren’t you?” . I was taken aback. I don’t really like the term infatuation, to me it stinks of reckless teenage crushes. I was also mildly offended for a moment. He then said,”well, cause I am too, so that’s good.” I laughed and asked if he was infatuated with himself and he smirked.  When I got home I found an email from him with a self-portrait. I loved it. A closeup of his jaw, lips and scarf wrapped neck. Very much the style of photo taking that I gravitate towards.  I commented back, lamenting that his handsomeness is killing me. I also voiced issue with the use of the term infatuated, stating that for me, it is more of a deep admiration and appreciation for him, and that I like him more than the average bear. His reply was that for him, he did believe infatuation was what he was feeling, perhaps without the extravagant foolishness and that he likes my intensity and finds me very “hot”. The boy makes me laugh.

We met for a pot of tea and a chocolate chip cookie after he got off work. I was supposed to meet my Foreigner friend for an early dinner in the area of Brooklyn’s office, since I was in an area close to the Foreigner’s home, but I received a text canceling 5 minutes before we were to meet. Grrrr, Foreigner boy… grrr.

Brooklyn told his soon to be ex-wife that he joined a dating site. She was none too pleased. She believed he was moving on too rapidly it seems. The issue with divorces is, one person is always done far sooner than another. He is ready to move on because the relationship has been dead to him for longer than she is admitting to herself. He did not tell her about me in particular, at least she has not yet asked if he has been seeing anyone yet. This isn’t need to know info. Specifics do no one any good. There was someone who she had been interested, or at least it now seems that perhaps she SAID she was interested in, just to receive a reaction. His reaction was ,”wooh! Go for it!”, not exactly what she thought. He wants her to be happy. He knows that they will never be truly happy together, they haven’t been for a very long time, regardless of previous separations and therapy. Sometimes the most loving thing you can do for someone is let them go. Allow them the opportunity, and yourself, to be loved as you both deserve to be.

With that said, I promised the 25-year-old a make out session this weekend cause I keep blowing him off for dates all week and a really cool photographer winked at me on one of the dating sites. He used a quote from one of my favorite films. It was a film that my ex-fiance found to be “trite and pedestrian”. Fuck her, the pretentious douche bag. I happen to LOVE the movie.This of course earned the winking photographer some points in my book, and a reply.

I need some action soon. I could get it from Brooklyn but I want to wait until his mess is a bit more compartmentalized. Currently, it is a little too cluttered. I adore him and would like the opportunity to truly see what it could be about BUT, until he is 85% free and living on his own, I am going to continue to casually date other people and potentially get laid by someone.I need to avoid getting too wrapped up in Brooklyn’s saga… a distraction would be good. There is too much potential to become a rebound relationship for Brooklyn if I go blindly down this road. I want both eyes open for this journey, not only to avoid any unnecessary negative ramifications, but also, because he is so gosh darn pretty to look at.

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Last night I went out for date number 3 with the Urban Farmer or “Produce Giver”. We saw a movie, it was “Fantastic” , but alas…. the movie was the most exciting aspect of this entire evening. Now, there comes a time, social awkwardness or not, that you make a move. IF you are at all interested in a girl, you make a move towards some sort of physical show of appreciation, desire, interest … or even showing signs of LIFE. He’s clever, attractive and interesting but his girl skills are bordering on Charlie Brown meets Stan from South Park. I don’t know if he has an upset stomach or if he’s gonna throw up on me. THIS is without him even seeing me in 4 inch heels, slinky dresses and sporting a brazilian wax. If I intimidate him and make him nervous now, there is no telling what type of serious mental trauma would occur if he were to ever touch me.  At this stage in the game, I must throw the towel and call this one done. 3 dates and you are out. NEXT.  

Meanwhile, the hits keep rolling in. Let’s review the what not to do’s in online matchmaking, shall we?

  1. If you don’t want to appear like a shallow douchebag with an ego and nothing to back it up, do NOT show any photos of you without a shirt, whether they be through your web cam or banked out of the bathroom mirror. It’s gross, you are gross and eww. if you have one photo of you on the beach with pals, OKAY, but no main photos and nothing “sexy”.
  2. DON’T send me an email with the phrases: “Hey Sexy”, “Let’s do this”, “So, I didn’t read your profile, but damn you are hot and I want to get to know you cause it seems we have a lot in common” (like thinking you are a douchebag?), “Hi cutie, I bets I can put a smile on that cute face of yurs”.   Yes, I did just throw up in my mouth a little because that man looked like a mix of back woods Deliverance and coonhound Best in Show.
  3. I am SO glad you love sports. That’s great. Oh really, and your interests are… oh, sex, sports, and oh sex and sports…. next.
  4. Don’t invite me to your house yet, if I suggest coffee (I am a cheap first date), that means public place that is well-lit and surrounded by other people… not your house, which is creepy. IF I decide to bring you coffee and make out with you later, let it be my prerogative.
  5. No, really, my age range of low-mid 30’s to low 40’s is JUST a suggestion. Sure, all you 23, 27, and 51 year olds, please contact me because apparently I do not really know what I want.
  6. Also, if I say slender, average or athletic/toned, this doesn’t mean fatties. Sorry, but it’s my thing. I am a size-ist. I admit it. Years of being fat cultivated a healthy dose of body dysmorphia and I can’t get past my issues with weight enough to date someone more than a little out of shape. This makes me less than a perfect person, I know.
  7. Bringing me to my final point. I am not perfect. I am attractive, witty, clever, sexy, naughty, shy, angry, sweet, endearing, exhausting and so far from perfect. I over think and get insecure sometimes. I take bad advice. I am a horrible house keeper who can’t implement the great design ideas she has, so many people have never stepped foot in my house because it is perpetually in chaos. Don’t be awestruck, or intimidated. I will let you down.

I sent the Peruvian, GD, otherwise known as potentially McDouchey, a handmade invite to hang with me on New Years Eve. There was glue, ribbon, stickers, 3 different colors of cardstock, Photoshop AND InDesign work, and two stamps. He should receive it Saturday. I hope. Will he say yes. I hope. Am I foolish, quite possibly. But damn,the idea of that type of foolishness sure sounds like naughty, naughty  fun.

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