No More Older Guys, Please!

So, that's it.  No more older guys.  I'm done.  Two unsuccessful dates in a row, one with Mr. Vermont and the other with Finance Guy.  Both of them were 47-years old.  I'm done.  Look,  I realize that 47 is within my age bracket, but they both just seem so much older than me.  They looked older than me.  They act older than me.  I'm silly!  I'm fun!  I think I just want someone younger...

I know I come from a good gene pool, because both me and my brother look younger than what we actually are - and oh, God, please don't let him tell you he's my younger brother, which he loves to do, because he is definitely older!

Somehow, both Nathan and I have managed to age without any wrinkles so far - probably, because we both have stayed out of the sun.  For me, it's because the sun doesn't like me.  My makeup even has SPF15 in it - I use Prescriptives Flawless Skin, which is is my secret weapon,  plus I also put sunscreen on my face if I know I will be spending any length of time outside.

So far, so good.

My brother has stayed out of the sun, too!  But not on purpose, like his sister.  He's a
vampire
bar owner/bartender, so he lives mostly at night.

No sun =  No wrinkles.

(Now if we can only do something about his salt & pepper hair....)

+

 

*contemplating*

Nawwww....

Where was I?  Oh, yes...dating older guys.  Ya, I'm over it.  For me, I base my attraction from this simple, yet effective, question: "Can I see myself kissing him?"  And, often, when it comes to guys who are older than me - the answer is a big, fat NO!  Although, to me, older men are appealing, because they are usually more established and they know who they are. Most importantly, they know what they want.  Younger guys get easily distracted, if they have more than one woman interested in them.

Uhg!  What do I know...I'll probably be eating my words soon - like I always do.

Whatever.

I hate to put any restrictions on my dating but, right now, this is how I feel.

~Carrie

PS:  My gut tells me that I'll probably be eating my words soon...like I always do.

DC Dude: Part 6

(Continued from DC Dude: Part 5)

Did you really think that the last blog on DC Dude would be the last?

Well, it's not  - clearly, because here I am...writing...part SIX!

After spending hours writing Part 5, I realized that I had left no room for discourse with DC Dude - I just went at him.  I wasn't asking questions - I just assumed I knew everything and started blasting him.  I came to this realization after writing and re-writing the blog. After I was done editing it, I sounded like a crazy, bitter girl, which I am not. I was just frustrated with his lack of communication.  

I felt horrible for the tone I had used.  Where was the kind, loving girl that my grandmother had raised me to be?  I had no idea what was going on in his world and what did I have to lose by reaching out to him with an apology and telling him how I really felt?  My gut was telling me to go for it.

Carrie:  As hard as I try...

Carrie:  I can't stop thinking about you.  That's the truth.  Yes, I miss you.  And, I shouldn't have come across the way I did - I hope you can understand why - I was just so frustrated with you.

DC Dude:  Good.  Think of you as well.  Forgiven.

Carrie:  LOL...I haven't apologized yet!

Carrie:  I know I should be calling you rather than texting, but I have a hard time actually saying things sometimes.  Scary for me... So I'm going to be a chicken shit and just text you, OK?  First, is this a good time or are you busy?

DC Dude:  Ya ya.  OK.

Carrie:  ...and crappy signal at my mom's house!  Ya!  That's it!  That's why I have to text!

DC Dude:  OK #2

Carrie:  Great...now there's an awful feeling in my stomach and I'm drawing a blank...

DC Dude:  Ugh.  Try counting backwards from 50 to 0.

Carrie:  Hell, I think I'm going to barf.  Watery mouth, etc. ...NO!  Dammit.  I can do this *mumbles expletive*

DC Dude:  The word is "FUCK."

Carrie:  Yes, that "F" word that I try not to use..thank you very much...

Carrie:  There are some things that I'm very confident about...and then there are some things that I'm not.  You have thrown me off so many times, but I keep coming back to what my gut tells me...  For me, to like you on any level is hard, because I feel that you have already rejected me once...and who the "F" does that?

Carrie:  50, 49, 48, 47, 46, 45....

Carrie:  44, 43, 42...

DC Dude:  Enough.

Carrie:  This doesn't work - this counting thing.

DC Dude:  Hell no.

Carrie:  OK, you really need to work on elaborating and use longer sentences.  Using just one or two words can easily be misconstrued.

DC Dude:  Then call.

So I did, and we ended up talking for over an hour.  I finally got it off my chest about how I really felt about him, and that I didn't believe that our September run-in was a coincidence.  I told him that I wasn't looking for meaningless sex; I wanted intimacy. And, in order to have intimacy, I needed chemistry, which I felt that I had with him. I missed him, and our conversations.  And finally, I said I didn't think it was fair to try to date other guys, when I knew I was stuck on him. I proposed that we start over.  

He was definitely surprised at my phone call, because, if you remember, the last thing I said to him was to leave me the *bleep* alone.   At the end of our conversation he told me he would seriously think about everything I had said.  I had read Men Are from Mars, Women Are from Venus before, so I figured he just needed to go into his cave and think about things, although it wasn't the reply I was hoping for.

In my mind, and in my heart, I just wanted to come clean.  I just needed to know - was there real chemistry between us or not?  I knew I wasn't going to find out unless I gave it my best shot and that I laid out all my cards.  I wanted to follow my own advice about getting what you give.  I knew we weren't going to get anywhere unless I showed him I was willing to put some effort in.

After our talk, I switched up my game plan. I started texting less, and calling more. If I wanted to talk to him, I didn't wait for his call; I called him.  I noticed our conversations slowly started to flow again.  He shared with me that after almost a year of struggling financially, he was finally back on his feet again because he had started a new company.  I was genuinely happy for him.

At the end of April, we made plans to see each other. We would do a long weekend together:Thursday to Monday.

But, it seemed as though as soon as I booked my flight, he stopped calling and stopped returning my texts.  Never a good sign.  

Two weeks before my trip, I called to touch base.  He answered the phone and said he was on vacation with his father in Florida.  Oh, really?!  That was news to me. He was standing at a loud bar in the middle of the day and we couldn't hear each other very well, so he said he would call me later in the week.  Really?  Later in the week?  It was only Friday afternoon....

Again, not a good sign.

The week came and went and guess what? No call from DC Dude.  This was not looking good, but I was determined to just keep even-keeled and not jump to conclusions. 


Ten days later, and just a few days before I was scheduled to fly down to see him, I called DC Dude to make sure we were still on. He answered my call sounding flustered and said he would call me back later, as he was walking into church (at 2:00pm on a Monday afternoon?).

And hour later I get this text:

3:07pm

DC Dude:  Carrie, I just can't do it this week dear.  Too much going on right now.  My apologies.

Carrie:  And you tell me this in a text?

DC Dude:  With people right now.

I couldn't believe it. Yes, I was disappointed that he had to cancel, but he said this to me in a text?  He had time to go to church, but didn't have time to make a two minute call to me?  That would have been the right thing to do, because it had been 10 days since I last heard from him!

4:08pm

Carrie:  We need to talk about this.  What time is good for you?

He didn't reply and, at that point, all I can say is thank God for girlfriends, because reality was coming crashing down on me, and fast.  Thankfully, when I got his text I just so happened to be on the phone with Beth.  She always had a way of putting things in perspective, "A guy that really likes you Carrie, would at least have the decency to call you."

Right after I hung up with Beth, Brigitte called and invited me over for dinner.  It was perfect timing, and exactly what I needed at that moment: Baby-time with Graeson, a home-cooked meal and Martinis!

How cute is Graeson?!

Around 9:00pm I checked my cell phone and DC Dude still had not responded.  

Carrie:  I'm not going to assume anything, but I can speak for myself:  That hurt.  A lot.  There was a time when you were really excited about me.  I don't know what happened, but you have lost it, which is OK - except we have been carrying on now for almost 1.5 years.  I said how I felt about you.  If you don't feel the same - that's OK.  But, the right thing would have been to not lead me on - like I said before, I was into you for all the right reasons and put my best foot forward with an open heart.  If you like me, well, you just don't show it.  And, by canceling on me via text...well that's just crap - I deserve at least a phone call.  You don't have to say anything - because you already said it, by not calling and not returning my texts for well over a week now.  I can't do this.  I thought you would at least be honest with me and give me the courtesy of calling.  I deserved at least that.

DC Dude:  Hey drama queen.  Hold the bullshit until I'm done working!  Jesus, I just got back from being away with my father in FL for 11 days!!!!  AFTER a hellacious 5 months creating this company.  Goddammit get off yourself and realize I WAS being honest.  HOLY SHIT - RELAX and be patient, please.

Oh. My. God.  Did he just call me a drama queen and tell me to get over myself?  MYSELF?  I haven't heard from him in 10 days...and he's telling me to get over myself? 

Myself?!

For a minute, I was Tom Hanks in "The Money Pit"...

Wow, he really knew how to nurture a relationship!  Clearly, he was callous with my feelings...

Carrie:  Get over myself?  Drama queen?  Really?  Wow...this just keeps getting better with you.

DC Dude:  Yes, because you know me better.  Just be understanding and patient, please.  I had to miss a meeting in NC this afternoon b/c I was so damn busy I could not leave.

Carrie:  You don't talk to me. You don't call me.  You don't return my texts...what do you expect?  I'm not a mind reader and I'm not there to see what is going on.  I can be patient.  I think I have been patient.  I don't think I have asked for too much from you - just common courtesy and honesty.  You were away on vacation for 11 days and you didn't call me once.  And then you cancel?  Tell me, what am I supposed to think?

Again, he didn't reply.

It was getting late, I said good-bye to Graeson and Brigitte and drove home listening to Kings of Leon - on full blast no less. I was pissed.  I was hurt.  I was done being patient, and giving him the benefit of the doubt.  Where was the consideration for my feelings?

I asked myself if my brother, Nathan, would be OK with DC Dude treating me this way? I knew the answer: "Hell, no!"  Again, it wasn't the fact that DC Dude was canceling on me...it was how he handled himself that spoke volumes.  No guy who cared about me would go on vacation for 11 days without wanting to talk to me. I didn't even know he was going on vacation!

Where was the reassurance that everything was OK with us? Something was up and I assumed it was fear-based, which prevented him from understanding how his in-actions were hurting my feelings...again!  If this was a taste of how things were yet to come, if this was how he handled himself in stressful times, then I wanted out. Not only was the writing on the wall, but it was lit up in neon lights just like Time Square on New Year's Eve! 

It was time.

10:25pm

Carrie:  Look, I know you "like" me, but I'm "in like" with you, which is far beyond the definition of just "like."  Call me a drama queen, but really if you were dying to see me you would have made it happen.  I don't know what your deal is...this all sounds like excuses to me.  So, I call bullshit.  I think you are just fucking afraid.  A-F-R-A-I-D, mother fucker! (swearing intentional!) That's the truth...I just needed YOU to say it.

10:45pm

Carrie:  *raising middle finger*  And that's for making me cry.  I'm done. 

I didn't hear anything back from DC Dude that night, but Nathan chimed in via text while I was in the middle of my melt-down.

Nathan:  So, DC Dude blew you off?  Men.  Can't live with 'em.  Can't perform complicated brain surgery replacing 64.5% of the brain and replacing it with a programmable chip.

Carrie:  He apologized and asked me to be patient.  Really?  What does that mean?  He was just on vacation for 11 days and didn't call me.  WTH?  Don't you think I deserve better?  I mean, even The Senator treats me better than that.  When The Senator picks me up, he comes to the door.  And when he drops me off, he always asks if he can walk me to the door...and DC Dude can't even call me to say he has to cancel?

Nathan:  Sounds bad.  If you want the answer to the question of what do I think?  If he was dying to be with you, he would show it.  He's not showing it.  Also, the chase, Carrie!  You gotta think of the chase!  Don't make yourself so available.

Carrie:  I did for the last YEAR!  That didn't work either...and if someone has to play games, then they are only in it for the games.  I want something REAL.

Nathan:  Ya gotta act like every guy means pretty much nothing until he does a back-flip off a 60-story building with flowers and chocolates in his hands.  They are not games. Just sorting out the weak.  You wanna mate with the lions, not the cubs.

Carrie:  The weak play games.  The strong are honest with their feelings.  I put mine out on the table a month ago!  Screw him if he can't deal.  He was a lot like MG...  Maybe that was a red flag right there.

Nathan:  Yip.  Could be!

Carrie:  They can both suck it for making me cry!  Boys suck, Nathan.

Nathan:  Yup.  They do.

Carrie:  That selfish prick doesn't even acknowledge my feelings AND he made me cry? Oh, I don't think so!  I'm so done with him!

NEXT!!!

And what was I supposed to do with a canceled R/T ticket to DC?  Exchange it for a 10-day trip to Florida with Beth, of course!!!!!

And, the hopeless romantic in me says that love isn't supposed to be this difficult! Love isn't supposed to leave me hanging or guessing. Love is supposed to make me feel confident - and DC Dude...well, we all know how he made me feel.

At least Keith knows how to love someone...

Just Call Me Angela!

It's St. Patrick's Day, and my very first time venturing out to a bar to celebrate the holiday - I know, and here I am Irish as the day is long! 

I'm in New Hampshire for a family visit, so I decided to go into my favorite bar The Shaskeen!  

I'm feeling good; I've got my kelly green sweater on and I'm wearing my uber-sexy, kitty-kitty, meow-meow boots with my jeans tucked into them.  I always get complimented on those boots, plus they make me about 6'2".  It's hard to miss me in a crowd!  And, they definitely put a little swagger back into my walk.

*MEOW!*

Seeing this was my first St. Patrick's Day going to a bar, I wasn't quite sure exactly what to expect but at 4:30pm, as I was trying to park my car, I began to notice a lot of people already doing the bar crawl dressed in their green outfits and staggering drunk.  I thought better them, than me!

I walk into the bar alone knowing that at some point I would probably bump into someone I knew. And, just as expected, right when I walk in I spot my cousin, Kristin, and her boyfriend.  We chat up a storm and who comes in next, but my Auntie Holly and Uncle Dave. I'm so deliriously happy to see them...and I'm drinking beer!!!

Next, my cousin, Lizzie, walks over to me and gives me a big hug.  It was surreal, because we had been trying to meet up with each other for the last a couple years, but the timing was always off.  It's a long story, but this was our first time meeting each other - ever!

Somehow, the hours were flying by. Alcohol, I have learned, makes me a little chatty and fiery - if that's possible.  I'm really enjoying myself, and over-joyed to be hanging with my family.  They rock!

At one point, I remember a tall guy joining our little gathering at the corner of the bar.  I didn't really notice him at first, and I can't remember if I was introduced to him or not, but from the looks of it, he apparently knew my cousin, Kristen.  My feet were getting tired, so I decided to take a little break and sit down.

Sipping my beer (I was well onto my 2nd pint!) and listening to a conversation that Uncle Dave was having with the two guys sitting next to us, my Auntie Holly comes over to me all excited and wide-eyed.

"Carrie....Carrie!  Don't you know who that is?" she said pointing to the guy talking to Kristen.

I lean to my left and looked around my aunt's shoulder to get a better look.


"Uhm...no..I don't recognize him.  Should I?"

"You don't recognize him? Carrie! You don't recognize him?"

I look at my auntie with a blank look on my face, "Seriously, I don't recognize him."

"Carrie!  It's Rugby Dude!  You know...Rugby Dude who ate off your plate?!"

In my slight beer fog, it finally dawned on me exactly who this tall good-looking guy was talking to Kristen.

"Holy crap! That's Rugby Dude???" My auntie's face lit up as she vigorously nodded her head in agreement.

I immediately stood up, practically pushed my auntie aside, and strutted my 6'2" self on over to Rugby Dude, interrupted his conversation with Kristen and proclaimed, "Now I remember you!"

Like a deer-in-the-headlights, Rugby Dude looked at me and then over to my aunt, "Did she just have to remind you who I was...because, look, I'm really sorry about that night.  I was really drunk..."

Oh, he was drunk that night alright!  

It was three years ago...

I was out with my friend, Lisa, who I had not seen in 10 years or so.  I was excited to catch up with her over dinner at The Wild Rover.  Nathan, my brother, was the bartender there that night, so I figured I'd kill two birds with one stone.

Lisa and I sat in the restaurant area of the bar. We both ordered the pumpkin ravioli, which I had been craving all week. I was starving, so when the waitress came by with our food, I was ready to eat!  I put my napkin in my lap and looked up to find a tall, good-looking, sweaty guy standing at our table.  I think I remember saying hello to him and then giving him a look like can I help you?  He was staring at my scrumptious plate of pumpkin ravioli and then took it upon himself to help himself to one of the ravioli's!  With his hand!

"Seriously?!"  

I pushed the plate towards him, "Honey, you can have the whole thing."  

At the time, I didn't know, or care, who he was and clearly, he didn't know who I was. But it didn't matter who I was - rude is rude!

"Really?" as he chewed my food.

"Really. It's all yours," I said sarcastically.

As he walked away with my plate, my attention went back to Lisa who was sitting across from me in shock.  

Trust me, it took all I had not to chase after him, grab my pumpkin ravioli and dump it all over his head. And then, top it all off by giving him my best flying elbow. 

Fortunately for him that stupid thing in my head called my conscience chimed in and reminded me that I didn't want to known around town as "Nate's sister - who clocked a guy for eating off her plate."

Although, it did have a nice ring to it...

Instead, I thought it would be best to let my big brother do my dirty work for me.   

*DING!*

If you want to be treated like a lady, you have to act like one. 

*DING! DING!*

Instead of clobbering dude, I let Nathan handle it. Oh, and believe me, he wasn't happy when I told him what had just happened because, apparently, that "dude" was one of the rugby guys that frequented the bar all the time and his team brought in a lot of business.

I knew that wasn't going to matter to Nathan.  Because "sister" trumps "rugby player,"  Someone was about to get kicked out!

Fast forward to St. Patrick's Day three years later...

"You're the guy who ate off my plate!"

"Did your aunt just tell you who I am?"

Nodding my head up and down and staring at him with fire in my eyes I said, "Oh, yes she did!  I didn't recognize you.  You looked different back then.  Your hair was shorter and blonder, and you were looking like a sweaty, hot mess that night."

"Listen, I'm really sorry about that night.  I didn't know who you were, and I guess that was my way of flirting with you."

"Flirting? I'm surprised that that you even remember that night because you were tanked!  You didn't even have your shoes on.  And, you were in a bar!"

"It was my birthday, and we had just won a game...I was drunk, but I do remember everything."

"Yes you were!  Nathan was so angry with you!  I've only seen him that angry twice in my life.  Once, was Halloween, when someone grabbed my super-hero ass, and the other time was when you ate off my plate!"

Rugby Dude got kicked out immediately that night. He said that he felt so bad about the incident that he didn't show his face in the bar for a month.

Big whoop.  A whole month?  Hell, if he really felt that bad it should have been for at least six months...


Rugby Dude seemed like a nice guy while we were talking, but the whole time I kept hearing my auntie's voice in my head reminding me that he was a bad boy and to stay away from him.  She would know because not only did he go out with Kristen a few times, but also one of Kristen's friends - and the rumor was...he was not a nice guy to date.  So, I was all set - I didn't even have the desire to entertain the thought of going out with him until I, at one point, in our conversation, touched his arm and all reasonable and responsible thoughts went out of my head!

*ZING!*

Instead, they were replaced with the thought that maybe the Dating Gods had answered my prayers!  Underneath those clothes, I imagined his body was similar to my dream boat, Alexander Scarsgard...

*SWOON!*

At 8:00pm, my friend Rachel walked in and my family left.  As they were leaving, Aunt Holly gave me another warning to stay away from Rugby Dude.  I smiled and assured her that I would.

Now, let me give you a little back-ground on Miss Rachel.  Rachel eats men up and spits them out and then wipes her feet on whatever is left of them.  And guys love it. She is a professional at verbal lashings and ball busting - so I figured that maybe Rugby Dude just needed someone more like Rachel to put him in his place. I immediately introduce them.  

Shaking her hand he looks at me and asked, "Does she know, too?"

"Of course she does!"  I said with a big smile on my face.

The evening carried on and Rachel and I had a great time talking and flirting with the other patrons at the bar.  But it was obvious that the both of us had the hots for Rugby Dude.

I have to hand it to Rachel - if a guy is a dirt bag they'd better watch out, because she will treat them like the piece of sh*t they are, and have no qualms about it.  I was secretly hoping that Rugby Dude would go for Rachel and take the heat off of me.  Nathan was bartending and watching me talk to Rugby Dude.  I had been drinking, so even though I knew he was a bad boy, and I got specific instruction to stay away from him, I was definitely feeling attracted to him.  How could I not?  He was my type - minus the bad boy part, of course.  He was about 6'3, handsome, clean cut, athletic and wearing a button down shirt and slacks like he just came from the office.  Oh, and he was from Texas and still had a bit of an accent...and you know what they say about guys from Texas!

*starts to purr* 

But then, I remembered the most important thing of all:  The Rules!  

Specifically, Rule #2 - Nathan and I do not date each others friends.  (Dammit!)  that rule really isn't fair, because he is like the mayor - he knows everyone in town.


Then, I noticed Rugby Dude and Rachel talking on the other side of the bar.  I thought for sure I now wouldn't have to worry about the rules or fight off the lusty thoughts I was starting to have for him!  That worked until Rachel came back over to where I was standing at the bar.  She was laughing hysterically.

"You are not going to believe this!  He thought your name was Angela!  Oh, my God! He was talking the whole time about Angela and I was like, who? And he said, you know, Nathan's sister.  And I said, you mean, CARRIE?!  Girl, it was so funny, because then he asked if I was going to tell you he got your name wrong, and I said, oh definitely!"

I told you she was a ball-buster.

(Again, Beth is my proofreader - she occasionally leaves funny comments in pink caps - they were too funny to delete.)

Boys! Are they that clueless? Do they really think that they can act and treat women however they want to without any repercussions?  Clearly, he was really loaded that night he ate off my plate because there's drunk...and then there's tanked!  (STICKY FINGERS IN A STRANGERS FOOD....EWWWW!) On top of that, then he's got a really bad reputation with women per my auntie, cousin and big brother - (FAMILY CONSENSUS!)  (AND...THE ICING ON HIS CAKE...IF HE REALLY GAVE A DINGDANGDOODLE ABOUT ANY OF THE ABOVE, HE'D KNOW YOUR NAME...IT WOULD BE BLAZED INTO HIS GREY MATTER...RIGHT ALONG WITH HIS FAVORITE MOVIE LINE AND THE SIZE OF NATHAN'S FIST.)  Did my name really escape him?  Really?  A class act, I tell you!

 

LESSON LEARNED:  Handsome as hell, does not trump train-wreck.

NEXT!!!!!

Nicknaming the Dating Contestants

I don't know about you, but it seems as though I've had a lot of dates over the years.  It's not like I'm some sort of serial dater, who has a date every night of the week, or even every week for that matter.  It's just that I've been single for a while (which seems like forever), so it feels like there have been a lot of guys...or as I call them, "dating contestants."

My dating life can be very much up-and-down.  One minute, I'm going through a dry spell, and then all of a sudden it's raining men.  Literally!

Too many guys at one time is not good for Carrie.  Yes, I know, you're probably thinking I have men lined up for every night of the week, but give me more than one guy to date at a time, and I get over-whelmed.  And I even get a little anxious! It's silly, and I don't know where it comes from, but that's how I get.  Lord knows that most women would love that kind of attention, but not me - because I'm not most women. (Just please don't tell anyone.)

So, since I have been single, the upside of it is that I have lots of juicy stories for my girlfriends.  They love hearing about my dating disasters - I'm just glad that something positive is coming out of it!  And the way I feel about it, if it entertains my girlfriends and makes good blogging material, then so be it. I guess it's the payoff I get for having all those callous boys hurt my feeling. But, I'll live.  I like to think that it's a learning experience - for all of us.

I usually don't get to see my girlfriends all of the time, so sometimes they get the stories and guys mixed up. It never fails, I'll be mid-sentence, giving an update, and someone will say, "I'm sorry, which guy is this you're talking about?"

Which guy?

Let's face it, nobody remembered Chris, Michael, Kevin, Tom, John or James.  It's a problem, and because I found myself constantly repeating how I met a guy, his stats, and how our first date went over and over...I had to come up with something.  I was tired of repeating myself. So, I started using nicknames.

Nicknames!  What a brilliant idea! I mean who could forget names like these?

Hockey Boy

Harvard Scorpio

The Marine

Lenny Kravitz

Cousin Vinny

K9 Cop

Undercover Brother

Crooked-Dick Darryl

The Architect

 

The Noocher

Anaconda Dick

The Senator

The Guy from Survivor

The Sociopath

Conan O'Brien

The Swedish Psychologist

The Good Doctor

Power of Now Guy

 

DC Dude

6'7"

Mortgage Guy

Beef Cake

(This is horrible to say, but please don't ever ask me what their real names are, because I don't remember most of them!  Oops!)

When dating, here's an interesting rule to keep in mind...

You don't name the puppy unless you plan on keeping it.

I have to give credit to my dear friend, Becky, who told me about that concept.  She's smart like that. Beautiful, funny and smart.

In Becky's book, naming the puppy before you are ready to keep him is apparently a big no-no. Think about it, because she is right.  Why would I use a boy's real name and confuse all my girlfriends if I'm not sure if I'm going to keep him?

Would you bring a guy home to meet your parents, if you weren't serious about him? Well, it's the same concept.

And, God forbid, you date more than one Michael, like I did.  Then you are *bleep*! You wanna to see some confusion?!  Date a guy who has a common name!

"Hey, did you you get back together?"

"I thought he was a jerk - you're dating him again?!"

You get the picture...

Nicknames are the way to go, and trust me, it works. No longer do my girlfriends get confused who is who anymore.  Everyone is happy.  No more confusion.

*DING!*

And no, the boys do not know their nicknames, well, except Undercover Brother, DC Dude and The Senator.  Those names are harmless and rather flattering...unlike Crooked Dick Darryl's nickname.

Well, it was crooked and shaped like a summer squash.

Nicknames have worked thus far, but I do foresee a problem in the future when I finally do decide to "name the puppy" and bring him home to meet the Hen House. I can just see it now.  One of the chicks will probably end up saying, "I'm sorry, I know all about you, but I just don't remember your name.  What was it again?"

*smacks head*

But, until I cross that bridge - let the nicknaming continue!

~Carrie

DC Dude: Part 5 - "Where Is Your Heart?"

(continued from DC Dude: Part 4)

I had just come back from a 3-day date with Beef Cake.  We had just met for the first time after a successful six-week courtship - everyone was rooting for him, including myself, and here I was texting DC Dude.  

I thought for sure I would be going straight to Hell for this one... 

It happened to be a Sunday and, after years of being single, Sundays had always been the hardest day of the week for me.  I always felt Sunday should be spent lounging around in bed all day long with someone you love - getting up only to have coffee, read the paper, or go meet up with friends for brunch.

And, guess who I imagined doing this with...I hate to break the news, but it wasn't Beef Cake.  His "BMD" (baby mama drama) killed any, and all, attraction I had for him.  The truth was, I missed DC Dude.  His last text to me read, "We need a weekend together.  Miss ya." I couldn't believe my eyes when I read it, but Beef Cake was in the picture, so I ignored DC Dude's text.  (Well, I was a little miffed at the fact that DC Dude's track record was to show up and then leave me hanging.  We'd be in contact for a few days then nothing for weeks.  That didn't work for me.)

Now with DC Dude in my mind, I stood there in the kitchen wallowing in my own thoughts.  I couldn't ignore the giant, pink elephant standing in the room, anymore.  It was Sunday, I was alone.

If you want the same, do the same.  If you want different, then do different.

I scrolled through my messages until I found DC Dude's last text he had sent weeks before and re-read it again. I figured I had nothing to lose, and everything to gain.  Before I could change my mind, I had quickly typed up a text and sent it to him.

DC Dude:  17-day time delay.  LOL.  Nice!  :)

Carrie:  Oh, stop it.  Your track record is far worse!!!  :)

DC Dude:  Justified.

Carrie:  Priorities.

DC Dude:  Kiss my ass, priorities.  You miss me.  Admit it. 

Damn him...that...prick!  Yes, I missed him.

But instead of being honest I, instead, decided to play it cool.

Carrie:  Think of you, yes.  Miss you...?

DC Dude:  LMAO.  You're full of positivity this morning...

Carrie:  What?!  I'm Positive F*cking Pollyanna....kiss my foot.

DC Dude:  Rather kiss your you-know-what.  For hours.  :)

He was too quick to turn it to a sexual subject: Typical guy.  Well, Beef Cake had to work for that.  He put in his time and made me feel secure.   I knew he wasn't going anywhere - unlike Mr. "Disappearing Act" DC Dude.  The last time I saw DC Dude was in September.  It was now February!

February, that's five...f-i-v-e...months later. 

October...


November...


December...


January...


February...

The last time I had spoken to him was in December.  Again, it's now February!

To me, that's sending mixed signals.  I knew he liked me, but why was it so hard for him to keep in touch?

I had to put things in perspective...

Carrie:  Our priorities are different.  I can't understand yours, and you can't understand mine.  Simple.

DC Dude:  OK.

OK?

Carrie:  Don't take my bluntness as being negative, please.  I just have a firm grip on reality.  I'm nobody's "after thought."  You should know that...c'mon.

DC Dude: OK.

He was pissing me off.  I get an "OK," again?  This was a guy who was very charismatic and who could sell paint off a wall, and he didn't have anything more to say other than just "OK"?  

That's crap!

Carrie:  We both know I deserve better - more.  As for you, and I say this from a loving place, because I care about you - you get what you give.  It's not a slam.  I just think your expectations are off...at least with me they are.  And lastly...texting?????  Really?  Priorities.

DC Dude:  OK

Speechless, pissed, irritated...it was useless...

And then, while I'm trying to not lose it, who chimes in?

BEEF CAKE:  Hi, Kitten!  I'm cleaning the downstairs and I just wanted you to know that, as I go about my day, whatever I might be doing, you are very close to my thoughts.  :)

Why couldn't DC Dude just be more like Beef Cake? 

Why couldn't Beef Cake be more like DC Dude?

Hmmmm...if I could only combine the two guys into one...

I felt that DC Dude didn't leave me anything to work with, and I didn't own a crowbar to break through his wall, so I went about my day, and tried to forget about him, and how very frustrated he made me feel.  

Five hours later, even after discussing the whole thing with Beth, I was still feeling frustrated with DC Dude.  I decided to not holding back anymore and I was going to go for broke.

And, not in the nice way...

Carrie:  See?  I don't even know who you are anymore.  You easily shut down.  No discourse.  The guy I remembered clearly doesn't exist anymore.  And yes, I do miss him.

DC Dude:  What?  I just don't give a shit.  You're right.

Carrie:  There is no more friendship.  It faded a long time ago because we didn't build on the foundation of what we started.  You dropped off.  We are left with two people who are attracted to each other, and that's it.  I'm 40.  Not some 20-something year old girl who gets excited whenever a guy pays attention to me.

DC Dude:  I'm 35.

Carrie:  Why you have kept coming around is beyond me.  If you are looking for a hook-up, you should fish in local waters.

DC Dude:  You live 4 states away.  That's a bit ridiculous for a simple hook-up.  Please spare me.

Carrie:  I liked you for all the right reasons, and I just get treated like an after thought.  It's unacceptable, and really I expected better from you.  You don't get it, because, if you did, you would have done better by me.  I deserve better.

DC Dude:  OK.  You're right.

Carrie:  Then what?!  What do you want?????

I sat there in Red Rocket, parked in front of Home Depot, freezing my ass off...waiting...waiting for him to finally say something - to say anything.

Say something!

But, he didn't.

*Big lip*

Why is this so difficult?!

I couldn't do it anymore.  He had to know he just couldn't randomly pop up out of nowhere and expect that I would greet him with open arms.  This is not OK. We had been doing this for over a year now.   

How could he not know that every time he disappeared, it hurt my feelings?     

I had to bite the bullet, and just do what was right for me.

Carrie:  If you don't have the ability to say it; if you can't be an adult and just be honest with me, and most of all, be the guy I deserve, then please just leave me the FUCK alone!!

DC Dude:  OK.

Why couldn't he just step up?  

Why couldn't he just say what we both already knew?  

*grabs tissue and dry eyes* 

Do Not Enter!

The challenge to be Penis Free in 2010 is drawing to an end.  And, I have to say, it was a lot easier than I thought it would be.

The suggestion to be Penis Free for a year came from my friend, Beth, which she suggested that it become my New Year's Eve resolution for 2010., seeing I didn't have any at the time.  And you know me, I'm always up for a challenge, so I accepted it even though I honestly didn't think I'd be able to go a whole entire year without sex.  But, I did, and I have to say, I'm really proud of myself.  I held out!

OK, I need to clarify my "penis free" year. I had sex once with The Architect in April.  Do I regret it?  Absolutely!  For a few different reasons.  First, because I never saw him again after that night. And second, it would be so much easier to say I've been penis free all year long without putting in the disclaimer, "Well, except for that one time with The Architect." 

Bastard.

A year without sex (except for The Architect) has been a great learning experience.  I found out that it's not so bad going without it - emotionally, I'm just not built for casual sex.  I wish I could say I was, but I'm not. 

I'm going back to basics, people!  Dating should not involve sex!

The past few years, I have really been hell-bent on dating only "good guys," and I try to weed out the "bad boys" as best as possible.  Those are the boys who just want to get laid.  I thought The Architect was one of the good guys, and dating him made me realize that the five or six week wait-period still isn't long enough to get to know someone. He really was the final straw in my decision to stay celibate. Call me old-fashioned, but if I had waited a little while longer, I probably would have realized that he wasn't going to stick around - and even though he said he wanted a long-term relationship, clearly he didn't. He just liked the thrill of the hunt. 

Lesson learned.

So, now I'm back to where I used to be - holding out for a guy that means business, and putting the value back on sex.  I've decided that I'm not giving it up for anyone unless I know for sure he's looking at a long-term committed relationship.  

Look, dating is stressful.  I have to think about if I need to wax, did my condoms expire yet...do I need to buy new condoms?  What happens if the  condom breaks - that could lead to an STD, or I could get pregnant! Because we all know it happens!   Being careful isn't enough these days, I need a partner who I can trust through the good, the bad and the ugly.  Shit happens.  I don't want to have to worry about all that, nor do I want to worry if the guy is going to break up with me after we have sex.  Seriously, if any guys are reading this I'm speaking for all the women out there: Breaking up after you've had sex is like being kicked in the teeth.  Plus it's just down-right mean.

I have been dating here and there, but I still haven't found any "zing" with anyone...I can't even get past three dates before I'm reaching for the good ol' eject button.  Hell, I can't even find anything to blog about with these guys.  They are all very nice, and look great on paper, but I'm just bored.  They are boring. They don't make me laugh - and I certainly don't look at them in a sexual light.  There's no pizazz, no zing, no pull.  ZERO.  At the end of the date, dude kisses me good-bye and I'm either being licked or I'm having a pierced tongue shoved in my mouth without some sort of disclaimer during the date like, "Hey, how do you feel about piercings, because my tongue is pierced." Yuck. Not cute!  I'm convinced that kissing a now a lost art, too... 

And while I'm up on my soap box whining and bitching, let me throw in another problem I have with dating:  Guys can't make any decisions on their own.  Make a decision for God's sake!  Tell me what time you are picking me up.  Tell me the restaurant we are going to go to.  Just surprise me!  Put some effort into making the date memorable.  Women love to be taken care of - we love it when our date makes all the plans and all we have to do is show up.  Guys, it makes us feel special...  Make a woman feel like she matters and you've won half the battle!

OK, I'm done bitching now.

So, there we have it.  The count-down to New Year's Eve has begun, and Santa, if you're reading this, I've been a real good girl.  I've been kind to others.  I've been there for my family and friends when they needed me.  I  even adopted an a three-year old dog who was in need of a good home.  I have been a good sport on all my dates, and not once was I ever bitchy to them.  So, this year, I'm not going to go overboard and ask for something silly...like a boyfriend. No, Santa, I'd be happy with just having those winning lottery numbers!

Ya-hooie!

Swedish Dude

Hey,

I was looking around a bit here and I came across your profile. I thought you sounded like an interesting woman who can be adventuresome and knows something about how to enjoy life. I also thought you were quite attractive and had a warm, pretty smile and soft eyes. That's a difficult mix of traits to come across these days it seems. 

That was Swedish Dude, who turns out to be a psychologist.  Boy could he write an email!  Lengthy, well-worded, long emails - just love those! That alone caught my attention plus, I noticed he looked really good in aviator sunglasses, rode a motorcycle and from what the pictures depicted - he traveled a lot, especially to go skiing...and I love skiing!

So, I reply to him....with an equally lengthy email, which I'll only bore you with my first paragraph....

John:

I thoroughly enjoy your emails - you write really well. Your initial email caught my eye because it was a far cry from the "Hey, what's up?" which I usually get from admirers. Writing seems to be a lost art these days......

He responded with....

Carrie,

I would agree with what you said regarding writing being a lost art. In some respects, I think language usage is sort of a lost art, which translates into taking thoughts that one can clearly articulate and getting them down on paper, slowly disappearing. I think there was a time when the whole notion of being able to express oneself in a clear and well thought through fashion was sort of a point of pride. It was something that people wanted to be able to do. That whole focus on internal experience and the desire to understand and make use of it is considered less valuable on a sociocultural level where everyone is worried about what they have, or don't have, and what they might lose if anything changes in the world around them. However, I digress... :) I think this is straying into the realm of waxing philosophical and/or social commentary... we can get into that over a drink sometime.

Meow!  Tickle my brain with such talk!  I'm in!

After a few more emails, he suggested we meet for a drink at the Standard Grill Bar in the Meat Packing District of NYC.  I was intrigued by the 6'2" psychologist even though I had just had a really good date with Interior Designer Dude.  However, Swedish Dude was only 39 years old, whereas, Interior Designer Dude was 52. Regardless, I was heading out for a date...after all, the Dating Gods were smiling down upon me and I was going to take full advantage of it!  

We met on a Tuesday night. I was expecting it to be a slow night out on the town but, remember, this is New York City.  Who was I kidding?  The weather was still nice and warm, which meant that everyone was out to enjoy the few last days of warm weather.

When my date arrived, I was a little disappointed that he did not dress up at all - not even a little.  I, of course, was in a black pencil skirt with my high heels.  The "girls" were showing a bit, but I counteracted the cleavage and tight skirt with a conservative short-sleeved sweater.  (You can never go wrong with a sexy/conservative look...at least, it has always worked for me!)  I was feeling a little kitten-kitten meow-meow all dressed up. I knew the outfit worked because all heads turned as I approached the bar and my date had a smile on his face when we met.

*DING!*

One drink in (red wine of course) and we were discussing my date's career being a psychologist.  I was fascinated by it, but couldn't understand the whole point of being a psychologist.   

"What do you mean you don't give advice?  You sit there and listen to people for an hour and not once do you give advice?  That doesn't sound fun to me."  

You know me, if I have to sit and listen to someone for any length of time, that person will certainly get my two cents on whatever issue is on the table.  It's like breathing to me - both are a necessity, and definitely come natural.

Second glass of wine in and I noticed my date was getting better looking, and my hormones were coming alive!

Uh-O....

I caught myself looking at his mouth when he spoke....and then I was looking at his big man hands...I love big man hands!  He had a small, blond beard that outlined his jaw and I imagined that it was soft to the touch.  I wasn't listening to him anymore, but imagining what it would be like to kiss him.  He must have read my mind because he stopped talking and kissed me.  And, I liked it!

We ended up talking and did more kissing here and there. Our conversation had turned to talking about the patrons at the bar.  Again, it was Tuesday night and it was amazing to see the assortment of characters stroll up to the bar and order a drink.  It was typical New York.  Lots of rich stock brokers out on the town with their mistresses.

It was getting late and now it was 1:45am. I told him I had to leave for the second time - or was it the third time?  All I know is that I was leaving, no matter what. I had to get up early for work!

My date walked me to my car and there we had a nice, long make-out session.  I liked the way he kissed me....  (Maybe I shouldn't have had that second glass of wine!)

I asked if I could give him a ride home to his downtown apartment by Wall Street, and he said yes.  I didn't get home until 2:45am, and I had to be up at 7:00am.  I wasn't too happy about that as you can imagine...

The following day, I decided that yes, there would be a second date, but definitely noticed that Swedish Dude didn't care how late I had stayed out, nor did he ask me to text him when I got home.  A far cry from Interior Designer Dude  who had made sure I was home by midnight and sent me a text to make sure I arrived home safely.  (A very lovely, and sweet text, I might add!)  I got nothing from Swedish Dude!  

*Deducts five points off score card*

A week later, we went out to dinner for our second date.  I don't know if my game was off or that his was, but I was expecting our date to be a little more......fun.  I'm fun...and I wasn't making him laugh, nor was he making me laugh.  Our conversation was pretty flat.  It was back to discussing his job again, because it was the only thing we had to talk about. Yuck.


About four days later, we plan our third date.  I'd meet him at his apartment in downtown NYC and we'd go from there and grab something to eat.  


The night of our date, I went to his apartment.  When I walked in, it looked like your typical bachelor pad. However, THIS bachelor pad even included a friend from San Francisco who was staying for the week.  Swedish Dude's apartment was only one bedroom, so his guest was left to sleep on the living room floor on a blow-up mattress.  OK, I'm not going to judge. We've all been there - especially those of us who have lived in NYC - everyone wants to visit, and they usually have to sleep out in the living room.  I get that.  But, it was still a buzz kill. At least make sure there are not dishes left in the sink!

We leave and go out for sushi.  Thank God the sushi was really yummy because, once again, our conversation was about his work and analyzing people.  Even with two Sakitini's I still wasn't feeling the "fun" factor. 


After dinner, we hit a local bar for one beer, then headed back to his place.  It was cold outside, and I just really wanted to get into my car and leave, but HE wanted me to come upstairs. 

Shocking, right?


When he open the door to his apartment I could see a silhouette of his guest from San Francisco getting into bed. I introduce myself, and the mysterious man waves back, not really saying much.  Me and my date slip down the hallway to his bedroom which, by the way, doesn't have a door to it.  


Swedish Dude is kissing me and trying to make the moves, and all I can think about is his friend down the hallway who was within earshot!  What the hell? What are we in college?!

His bed wasn't even made, clothes were strewn on the floor.  Where are my candles? Where is the music? I need ambiance...!  

I was thinking of all these things that were wrong with the situation, but in reality, I knew I just wasn't that into him.  Plus, I was so close to being Penis Free in 2010 and I questioned whether or not I should give up that title for someone I just wasn't into all that much. 

Hell, no!  

I had held out this far, why should I give it up for someone who I'm obviously not into.  Just for sex?  Hell, we didn't even get to have the sex talk yet! Oh no, I think I'll keep the Princess on lock-down and excuse myself and go home!


"It's really late. I better go home," I said.

"You can spend the night here," he said, as I look over to the bed and wondered when the last time his sheets had been washed.  

Eww. 

"No, that's OK..."  (I've fallen for that trick before.....sleep over - sure, right!!)


He walks me to my car, and as he kisses me good-bye, he laughs a little and says to me in a serious tone, "Carrie, I can see that you are struggling with some inner turmoil."


Inner turmoil??? Oh, right!  Just because I have foiled your plans to get laid, now it's on me, and now I've been labeled as the one who has a problem, and you're calling it "inner turmoil."  Screw that! YOUR problem is that you're a *F-Bomb* ass-hole who has not once asked anything about me - and who is just trying to get into my pants.  How about that?!

I wished I had said that, but I didn't. Instead, I just smiled and said I was leaving.  Again, he didn't bother to text me when I got home.

*Hits imaginary eject button*

Swedish Dude might have looked good on paper, but in reality, I just wasn't clicking with him.  There was no spark....no laughter....no jokes....no nothing and more importantly he didn't take any interest in me. I just felt like I was being analyzed all the time. And who needs that?


Next!

~Carrie