Showing posts with label maybe. Show all posts
Showing posts with label maybe. Show all posts

Thursday, December 15, 2016

30 Dates

I've been issued a challenge, 30 dates or better put, going out on a date once a week. Shouldn't be hard...but then again, dating is total bullshit.

For instance, I once went out on a date with a dude who was hella funny, smart, well read, educated, well spoken, interesting, mad cooking skills and not only did he love beer but KNEW way more about beer than me. Rare find. However, he also kept a bandanna in his back pocket to blow his nose. I don't know, something about that bandanna just screamed 'old dude' to me. After that, I couldn't picture myself naked with him in the same room. But that's just me. This dude gets hella ass. Like ass for days.

There is no rhyme or reason for makes me pop or lose a boner. It simply is what it is. Nor is anyone really safe from me losing my boner once they're with me. I was once dating this dude for a while that I was kinda into, like I saw him daily and had a drawer in my house for him into kind of way. But all that went up in flames when he decided to through a temper tantrum and literally STOMPED away from me and our group of friends in a public area. After he bitched out like a crazy chick covered in pink glitter, I couldn't get it up for him. Hard to get in the mood with a dude when all you can picture is THIS grown ass man stomping away like a little bitch baby without saying a word. Talk about being dick downed but in all the wrong ways.

When dating, you don't know you've stepped in shit until, well, in most cases, you're a drink and a half in and dinner's been ordered. At my age, you're used to it. You're even used to stepping in shit well after the dating has ended and a relationship has started. But to go out on a date knowing you're inevitably going to step in shit, eh...what's the point? While I'm all about taking my new challenge by the legs are fucking the shit out of it. I don't know if I can fully commit to just going out with any dude that asks me out, just for the sake of working my way through the dirty thirty.

I mean, I get the drill. The more I date increases the chance of finding a dude I can stand still with. Having a set frequency is going to force me out of my comfort zone and make me accept dates from men I typically wouldn't. Which in turn, will open up my playing field. I get it. I'm not a complete retard. But to accept a date from a dude that doesn't drink....???? Meeeeh, fuck that shit. I firmly believe, if you don't drink, then we have nothing in common. I drink daily. For work, with friends, with my cats and even alone. So what's the point of meeting the dude and possibly liking him if I can't play a round of golf and drink a beer? What about beer festivals, Oktoberfest, St. Patrick's Day, New Year's Eve, Cinco de Mayo, Opening Day, Thursdays...or for fuck's sake, what about my favorite past time of chasing rare brews??? What would we do when we're watching the game together....?!?! Too much going already and I haven't had the chance to flash him a little cleavage.

Stepping in shit is a given. It happens. But to willingly step in shit....??? Yeah, no thanks. While I would hate to fail my first week...I think I'd hate it even more if I had to fail sober. Besides, who knows, a lot can happen over the next day or two. A blind squirrel has been know to find her nut every once in a while.

Peace, Love & Baseball,


Tuesday, August 2, 2016

Maybe

So. Maybe I was wrong. I honestly, truly believed that I wouldn't hear from Lullabies again.

But baseball...ugh, he gets me with baseball every single time. Fuck me.

But the facts still remain, I still feel don't feel anxious. I still wasn't excited to see his number pop up on my phone. He hasn't responded and unlike before, I don't care. I'm not checking my phone every five minutes...ok, seconds, every five seconds to see if he's responded. I'm not anticipating what he'll say next so I can come back with something equally clever. I'm not hoping our discussion about baseball will eventually lead to him asking me out. But fuuuuuck! I was just so caught up in being right about baseball, yet AGAIN, that it wasn't until after I hit 'send' that I felt a sense of regret creeping over me. Regret of the possibility of letting him open that big ol fucking can of bullshit he always seems to have.

But maybe, just maybe this wasn't a cheap ploy to get me to talk to him. Maybe this is the start to that whole Batman movie line about smiling at each other from across the room friendship thing I've been wanting. Maybe. Who knows. Perhaps my newly found sense of peace that he had finally let me go, is really just my peace of mind. Peace of mind that no matter what he throws my way, I will never again fall for him or his devil penis magic. 

Peace, Love & Baseball,