How You Doin’ Blondie?


The quickest way to a man’s heart…
June 23, 2008, 2:05 pm
Filed under: dating, Humor, Life, Men, relationships | Tags: , , , ,

…is with Chuck Norris’ fist.

But that won’t be necessary; I’m not particularly upset that he didn’t call.

Right.



Analyze This
June 15, 2008, 10:23 pm
Filed under: advice, dating, Life, Men, relationships | Tags: , , , ,

Mark and I went out on our third date on Friday night. At least, I think it was a date. Regardless, we spent time with each other for the third time since he made that first clear move by asking me for my phone number. So for all intents and purposes, it was a date. Although I think it was also one of those “tests” guys administer, like the “See if My Boys Like Her” test.

We spent the evening bar-hopping with the two men Mark has been friends with since childhood, and then we went for a drunken, late-night swim in one of said childhood friends’ pool. I’m pretty sure everything went well. I mean I was “one of the boys” in high school, I know how they think, it’s not hard to fit in with them. Add to that the fact that Mark’s friends’ are pretty cool guys, and I’m pretty sure everything went well.

So what I am obsessing over? Why, I’m so glad you asked.

At the end of the night Mark and I went back to his house, and we did what most inebriated, physically compatible people do. Still no home-runs, but definitely a solid triple.

Well actually, only one of us got to third base…the other one of us has only made it to first.

One of us was pleasured orally, for a long time.

After one of us came from said pleasure, one of us tried to return the favor, but was politely rebuffed with an, “I like to take things slow, it’s a trust issue. I just want to hold you right now.”

Guess who got politely rebuffed, folks?

Yes, that’s right, it was me, I was the one…I’ll give you a second to digest that.

Now do you see what I’m obsessing over? Never in my life have I had a man turn down a blow job…at least not without a hand job to stand in it’s place. Mark wanted NOTHING. He REALLY DID just hold me and gently kiss my face until we fell asleep.

So ever since Friday night, I’ve been obsessing over that incident. Did I do something wrong? Why didn’t he want me to touch him? He was completely naked, just like me, and the lights were out (which is another thing – I couldn’t see a mother fucking thing. I usually leave the lights on, but he turned every single damn one of them off), so what possible insecurity could there be left?

He can’t POSSIBLY be concerned about penis size, does he REALLY think I’m expecting Magic Johnson?

But if he’s not insecure, what is it? He certainly isn’t conservative…holy shit, or is he? He told me he was incredibly “Straight Edge” in high school – but we’ve never discussed anything like religion or faith. He swears, and he drinks, so how overtly moral can he be?

I can’t help but think, though, that I’ve done something wrong. We went out on Friday night, and I haven’t heard from him since. That fact in itself doesn’t necessarily alarm me, it was Father’s Day weekend, I do know he had plans to go to the shore. But there is a tiny part of me that is slightly concerned I’ve scared him off, or intimidated him in some way. He seemed just fine Saturday morning, but still…

Seriously guys, I need some input on this one. PLEASE.

 



Number of the Beast
June 10, 2008, 7:38 pm
Filed under: dating, Life, Men, relationships | Tags: , , ,

So he says to me, “Give me a call and maybe we can hang out this week, cook some steaks, have a few beers.”

So I called. Got the voicemail.

Of course.

I really get tired of waiting by the phone.



I’ve had a perfectly wonderful evening…
June 7, 2008, 9:57 pm
Filed under: dating, Life, Men, Pain, relationships | Tags: , , , , ,

…but this wasn’t it.

I am sorely tempted to just call Mark and cancel.

My heart is just not that into it.

The truth is, I’m angry.

I’m angry at myself, for the situations I put myself in.

I’m angry at the way I allow myself to be treated.

I’m angry that even cockroaches can have kids, yet I sit here with no children, no mate, my only company an aging, insolent, overweight dog.

I am angry that I always seem to find the greatest joys in my life a day late and a dollar mother fucking short.

I’m just angry.



To The Dogs [Update 8:57 PM Eastern Standard Time]
June 7, 2008, 8:57 pm
Filed under: dating, Life, Men, relationships | Tags: , , ,

Well, it wasn’t a phone call, it was a text, but it’ll do.

To be frank, I think he was probably under the assumption I was out of his league. There is a very real possibility he was scared shitless at the thought of calling me.

I can deal with that. As long as I got a date [sort of] out of the deal.

But now I have another problem,

what the fuck am I going to wear?



To The Dogs [Updated 5:10 PM Eastern Standard Time]
June 7, 2008, 5:10 pm
Filed under: dating, Life, Men, relationships | Tags: , , ,

 

 

He did not call.

 

 



To The Dogs [Updated 1:34 PM Eastern Standard Time]
June 7, 2008, 1:34 pm
Filed under: dating, Life, Men, relationships | Tags: , , ,

Still no call from Mark.

He specifically suggested we get together Saturday afternoon.

Is 1:30 pm not “afternoon”?

Was I supposed to call him, maybe?



To The Dogs
June 7, 2008, 9:45 am
Filed under: dating, Life, Men, relationships | Tags: , , ,

I met a guy a couple nights ago, while I was out walking Cody.

Well, actually, I’d met him twice before, but he hadn’t made a “move” until this most recent encounter.

The first time I met him I actually walked away from the experience thinking he must be gay, since I didn’t catch him looking at my tits even once.

Apparently, I was wrong.

A couple nights ago when we ran into each other, he walked me back to my house, asked me for my phone number, and suggested on Saturday we take the dogs over to Freedom Park, a dog run in a neighboring town. He said he’d give me a call to firm up plans.

I had assumed he’d probably call Friday night, but he didn’t. Now it’s Saturday morning, and I’m lying in bed next the phone wondering how this is going to play out.

I’ve given my number to guys before and they’ve never called, but that comes with the territory. Most men just want the number so that later on, when they’re out with their friends, if they can’t point to me and say, “I banged her”, they can at least point and say, “She gave me her number.”

But this guy, Mark, he seems different.

Fuck. I hate feeling like a pathetic loser, waiting by the phone.



Same Shit Different Day
May 29, 2008, 7:49 pm
Filed under: Humor, Life, love, Men, relationships, sex | Tags: , , , , ,

So S. has made his official return to relevancy in my life.

We ran into each other this morning, I was walking up to the train station to head into the city for the day, and he was driving to work. He stopped and asked me if I wanted a lift and of course I accepted. So the whole ride over we talked about the MOST boring shit in the world (of course) but the whole time I’m thinking “Ask him out, no wait for him to ask you out, drop him some hints, No just ask him out, ASK HIM OUT ASK HIM OUT ASK HIM OUT.” So I screwed up all my courage and said, “So, I see you got a new truck, what happened to the white Hummer?”

Yeah, balls of steel. That’s me.

So anyway, we finally pull up to the front of the station, and I turn to him and say, “Thanks for the lift,” but really all I wanted to do was kiss him. He smelled SO good, and his voice, oh that VOICE. I haven’t spoken to him in so long, anytime we see each other we just wave – so I’d forgotten how yummy that voice is…

I want him so bad it hurts. So what do I do?

On the one hand, we have the fact that he and I have been out together. Once. In October. 2007. And then – nothing. I got like 2 text messages, and then – nothing. He’s had all this time to make a move, and he hasn’t. So he’s obviously not that interested.

Which, to be totally honest, really does upset me. He was so much fun to hang out with, such a down to Earth guy. If only I knew what the fuck I did to turn him off. Sigh. I am NOT a happy camper.



The Bonfire of the Vanities
May 27, 2008, 3:23 pm
Filed under: Life, love, Men, Reality, relationships, sex | Tags: , , , , ,

I went to lunch today with my friends, and I seriously thought it would never end. It was torturous. My friends are all beautiful and successful, but they can’t seem to cultivate a healthy relationship with a decent man to save their lives. Of course, I can’t either, but I know this, I’ve accepted this. They, on the other hand, insist on blaming their failed relationships on male incompetence.

 Well today I finally had it up to here. I decided I was sick and tired of listening to them sit around and complain about being single, and double standards, and how men just don’t understand, and all that “female empowerment” bullshit…So I decided to offer my humble advice and said;

“Look, guess what, ladies? Men are not that complicated. 99.9% of the time, you’re the one who fucks things up. So check this out:

 If you don’t want him to treat you like a slut, don’t sleep with him on the first date.

If you don’t want him to tell you your ass is big, don’t ask how you look in those hot shorts.

If you don’t want him to check out your hot friends, don’t invite us over. Or get uglier friends.

If you don’t want him to cheat on you, find out what the fuck it is he’s not getting from you, and give it to him.

And also, ladies, while I’m at it, those women’s magazines you read? Ditch ’em. Don’t believe the hype – you’re not as great as you think you are.”

Picture, if you will, a turd in the town well. That is how it went over. So fuck them. I like hanging out with the angry old men at my local dive bar more anyway…at least those guys don’t buy me drinks with fucking fruit in them.



I Was Reading “Men’s Health” In The Bathroom Today…
May 17, 2008, 2:25 pm
Filed under: Beauty, Hope, Life, love, Marraige, Men, relationships, sex | Tags: , , , , , , ,

…and I stumbled upon an article written by Hugh O’Neill entitled “The Hottest Sex Tip Ever: Don’t believe what you’ve heard. Your lifetime of great sex starts when you stroll down the aisle.” The article’s main focus was debunking common myths (and fears) that men have about marraige; “Myth 4: She Has To Have It All” is what made this post-worthy (though it could be argued, by citing numerous posts of mine, that I really don’t have very stringent guidelines for what makes it into a post and what doesn’t…but I digress…)

“Many a man balks at pulling the marraige trigger because he appraises a woman the way he’d size up an applaince and then decides she just doesn’t have all the features he’s looking for. Well, here are the answers to those questions tumbling around in your head. Yes, she’s pretty enough. Yes, she’s smart enough. Yes, she’s funny enough. Moreover, all those questions are irrelevant. It’s like asking if a car floats. Most often, your anxieties are less about her then about how others may view your choice of a partner. A woman doesn’t need great beauty or brains or wit to be a fabulous partner and a person very much worth loving throughout your life. Think of it this way: if she’s less then perfect, well, that’s just something else the two of you have in common. Everthing that’s beautiful is cracked, Leonard Cohen wrote, and that’s how the light gets in.”

Even though I think the overall gist of the paragraph was “it’s ok to settle” (which, once you reach a certain point and you’re that just-a-little-to-old-to-be-in-the-club guy, I guess it is), I really liked that Leonard Cohen quote; “Everything that’s beautiful is cracked, that’s how the light gets in.”

Weird, the places hope derive.



I Really Don’t Like The Fit Of This Shoe…

Harken back, if ye will, to the days of old when I was kind of half-assed chasing my single neighbor, S…it turns out, things might not have been as dead as I thought they were. I was at the local dive bar with another guy, and we were canoodling (does that word sounds as stupid as I think it does?), and who should walk in and sit on the other side of the bar, but S. himself. I saw him out of the corner of my eye, so I turned to wave or something, but he wouldn’t look up or acknowledge me. So I figured ok, cool, guess I “didn’t see him”. So my guy and I carry on, but I can feel S. just boring holes into me with his stare. Eventually we left, and for some inexplicable reason, I felt like I’d done something really underhanded to S…I dismissed the feeling, until today. Saw S. three times today, in the span of about an hour. I waved and tried to make eye contact all 3 times, he ignored me. The second time I saw him, he was driving past my house while I was sitting on the porch. He waved at the neighbor walking past on the sidewalk, but he didn’t wave at me. He didn’t even turn his head in my direction. The third time I saw him, he was less then 20 yards away from me, watching his dog urinate on a tree. I waved, but he “didn’t see me”. He ignored me. Completely.

Fuck. I’m being taught a lesson.

I feel like an asshole.



Somewhere Otis Redding and Lou Rawls are Weeping Quietly

I’m telling you, this urban demographic and their music industry, it’s a Grammy  goldmine! It’s a regular chart-topping factory! Especially with this character I’ve been hearing about lately, this “Fat Joe,” my he is quite the wordsmith. I stumbled upon another gem of his, this one entitled “Still Not A Player,” featuring Monsieur “Big Pun.”

Does this gentleman have a fan club? How might I gain membership?

 

 

And yes folks, he really did just say “I’m not a player, I just fuck a lot.”



Ladies and Gentlemen, Poet Laureate Robert Sylvester Kelly:

    I heard a song the other day, and the lyrics in the opening chorus gave me pause. The name of the song [and I use the term very, very loosely] is “Make it Rain”; penned by Messrs. “Lil’ Wayne” and “Fat Joe,” featuring a guest appearance by R.Kelly. As a woman, I should be offended by the chauvinistic and frankly degrading lyrics Mr. Kelly is crooning; but as someone who considers themselves a novice at the game the big boys play, I was highly entertained by the song’s stark materialistic and animalistic overtures:

“I be drilling these chicks like Major Payne
When I make it rain, they be like ‘Kell… do it again’
From the club to the coupe, inside my gates
Up in my bedroom screaming each other’s name
They was perty perty, and I was flirty flirty
Lil’ dro, lil’ bub now they gettin’ dirty dirty
Don’t ask me what my name is, stupid bitch I’m famous
You gon’ make me aim this, leave your ass brainless
I’m tryin’ to stay R&B but these streets is a part of me
So don’t get it twisted
You see I order one bottle, then I talk with one model
Then I order more bottles, now I got more models
I’m from that city where them niggas don’t play me
I take a chick to my room like cave man
So ask your girlfriend my name, I bet she go
‘Skeet Skeet Skeet Skeet, Weatherman ’bout to make it rain!’”

 

I particularly enjoy the line wherein Robert raps incredulously, “Don’t ask me what my name is, stupid bitch I’m famous.” I simply must find an opportunity to use that line…perhaps during my tete-a-tete with Diane Sawyer when I’m identified as [insert powerful man’s name of your choice here]’s proverbial “side dish”…



Running Errands Is Depressing

I was walking out of the grocery store parking lot today, and this woman with a thick Scandinavian accent and an SUV full of family stopped and asked me for directions to a store on Rt. 70. I knew exactly where she wanted to go, and I knew exactly how to get her there, but I was concerned that she’d get turned around in this murderous Yankee traffic. I didn’t have anywhere to be, so I told her that I was going by where she wanted to go, and she could just follow me if she wanted to.

As we were pulling up to her destination, she pulled up along the right side of my car and thanked me profusely for my kindness. I told her she was very welcome and as she pulled away everyone was waving and smiling, sincerely grateful for my help. It made me feel genuinely happy that I was able to help someone, even if it was with something small like directions to a shopping center.  In that fleeting instant, as the woman pulled away to make her turn while I remained stopped at the light, I felt like maybe everything isn’t as dire as I make it out to be. Maybe I’m capable of leading a normal life, maybe I could start over somewhere as Suzie Homemaker who bakes cookies for the neighbors and gives good directions to out-of-towners.

So I’m stopped at the red-light, and I’m thinking all of these things and watching the woman’s tail lights disappear through my lowered passenger side window, and I’m in an almost happy place. Then a shiny, big, Ford F-150 pulls up beside me carrying a cab-full of construction workers. I usually avoid eye contact in these types of situations, but I wasn’t on guard, and I accidentally locked eyes with the driver.

In an instant, every little daydream I’d been having about cute pink aprons and two car garages, his and her sinks and a loving, lasting marriage; evaporated. Every last one. Gone.

I looked into the eyes of that driver, and the eyes of his passengers, and I saw lust, greed, and hunger. And then I remembered who I am, what I do, and how lonely I am. I remembered that men don’t see me as mother, or someone that they could introduce to their mother, but as an object. An object of lust, greed, and hunger. Those 3 things have given me so, so much, but they’ve taken even more away.

It’s a bitch, grocery shopping.



Once Upon A Time, There Lived A Princess
March 16, 2008, 10:56 pm
Filed under: Life, love, Men, random musings, Reflections, relationships, sex, thoughts | Tags: , , , ,

I’m sorry, what I meant to say is: a minor drawback to having sex for a living is that you develop (in a startling brief amount of time) a powerful resentment towards men. You lose your whimsical giggle to a harsh snarl. You lose your fucking soul to the brand new Mercedes you just bought yourself. Bitter? Oh, just a little.

 Where’s Prince Charming? I waited for him, I did. I sat in my tower, braiding my hair, dreaming of a better life. Every so often I’d think I saw him, riding by on his noble steed, and I’d tell myself that he just winked at me, just sent me the silent message that he’ll be back for me later. But he never came, and I got fucking tired of waiting.

And you know what? My Mercedes SL55 AMG with 400 horsepower fucks Prince Charming’s one noble steed in the ass.

But even the hardest, most jaded girls wish they had someone to hold them at night.



A Minor Drawback To Having Sex For A Living…
March 16, 2008, 10:32 pm
Filed under: dating, Life, love, lust, Men, Reflections, relationships, sex, thoughts | Tags: , , , , , ,

If I answer a call from an unfamiliar number one more time to hear a breathy male voice say “Hi Suzie, how are YOU doing?” I just might scream. Or become a lesbian. Men are pigs, every last one of them. Nice guys? Fuck that. I used to be a nice girl, and you know what happened to me? Nice guys. Nice guys with soft voices and big hearts who said all the right things.

Fuck Men.



Child’s Play

Sometimes I make up these little stories, these mundane little stories about boring little couples, and I’ll pretend they’re about me. I pretend that I’m one half of one of those little couples, and I pepper all my conversations with “we” or “my boyfriend and I”. If it’s a stranger or someone new that I’m talking to, I really go for the gusto. I make up a whole pretend-life for my companion, complete with two middle names and irksome but adorable personality quirks.

Pretending doesn’t hurt.



You Got To Make That Money, Honey.

Another little fun discovery: the phrase  “assholes ‘men relationships’ ” returns my blog.

Why would you enter those words, in that order, into a search engine? What are you hoping to discover? That you’re not alone? That there are other women who think that the men they are engaged in relationships with believe their partners are assholes too?

Honey, that’s a given.

What you should have entered, instead of “assholes ‘men relationships'”, is “assholes ‘gifts he gives'”. Because all men are assholes, and all men know it. So it’s not about whether or not your man is an ass, it’s whether or not you make him pay for it. If he crushes your soul on a weekly basis and you’re not walking away with a minimum of 10,000 a month in un-taxable income, that relationship just isn’t working, sweetheart.



What A Rip Off

I only got enough money out of him to reimburse me for the cab ride and cover the emergency contraceptive I had to buy.

What part of “Sugar Daddy” did he not understand?

I hang on your arm, make you look good, act like you’re a sex god, you buy me things! This is not a difficult concept! Her name was Anna Nicole Smith, google her!



He said “I’d really like to take you to bed.”
November 9, 2007, 10:06 pm
Filed under: love, lust, relationships, sex | Tags: , , , ,

He really caught me off guard when he asked me how much he owed me. I was sitting on the edge of the bed, re-fastening the ankle strap on my stiletto’s (I kept them on as per his request, but they got a little jostled during doggie) and he was just watching me. Then he murmured “You’re incredible baby,” then when I leaned in to kiss him goodbye, he wedged a roll of 100’s into my cleavage. He thought I was hooker. He tried to pay me, like I was some sex-starved, money-hungry blonde bimbo. I was so insulted, I threw the roll in his face and stormed out.

Oh please, get real.

5,000 g’s babe. Tax-free. Degrade me all you want, honey.



It’s Only Gay if Balls Touch…
November 4, 2007, 9:34 pm
Filed under: dirty, Life, love, lust, Men, Reflections, relationships, sex, thoughts | Tags: , , , , , , ,

I’ll be honest, I don’t particularly mind being involved in a love triangle involving me and two incredibly good-looking, very fuckable, firefighters. Of course, I use the term “love” very loosely, since I’m fairly sure this is more of a sex triangle than anything else (which again, with two firefighters, is not a horrible thing).

Do you remember that I told you S. admitted his original intent was to hook me up with his friend, Keith? Do you remember how I thought it was funny, even a little cute, that he decided to keep me for himself instead? Turns out it wasn’t that funny, because guess whose throwing his hat in the ring now? Yes, Keith. I’ve run into him a bunch of times during my nightly walk up to grab some dinner and this last time we ran into each other I made a parting remark that I’d probably see him tomorrow to which he replied, “Yeah, now that I know what time to show up.”

He and S. are very close friends, so this means one of two things:

1.) S. has given him the green-light and obviously has no intention of ever making a move and possibly even regrets the moves he did make

OR

2.) S. has filed me under the category of “girls men fuck” rather than “girls men bring home to mom” and has decided to share a little bit of the wealth with his best friend.

OR, a third option that really isn’t an option at all because it’s only feasible in my little fantasy world where I’m treated like a nice, decent girl:

3.) S. isn’t aware of this little development in mine and Keith’s relationship and once he becomes aware of it he will realize he needs to stop dragging his feet and MAKE A MOVE.

OR option 4.) which consists of me getting double teamed at the fire house 😉



If Only My Hand Could Buy Me Nice Things, I’d Give Up Men
October 30, 2007, 9:32 pm
Filed under: dating, games, Life, love, lust, Men, neighbor, Reflections, relationships, sex, thoughts | Tags: , , , , , , , ,

We ran into each other today, he was running errands on his lunch break and I was heading to class. He stopped and made small talk, asked me if I was going to be selling my car because he saw me taking pictures of it yesterday. Then he said he had a meeting in an hour and really had to get going so he could finish running those errands. That’s what he did do, now here’s what he didn’t do:

He did not ask me out on date.

And the rest of my day was directly affected by it, EVEN AFTER I swore I wouldn’t care. Even as I type this, I’m still upset that I’ve been rejected/dismissed [again] and embarrassed that I keep opening myself up for it. I’m also a little disappointed in myself, because I think the reason he doesn’t want to get involved is because of the type of girl I appear to be. He’s very concerned with his son’s well-being, and I’ve come to the conclusion that he doesn’t want his son to hear people talking about that bimbo on Daddy’s arm.

I’ve come to this conclusion by process of elimination really, because I know that his failure to make a move isn’t that he isn’t attracted to me; that one night we went out together, he definitely tagged second base. He was also very quickly sliding into third but the only thing that got off was my shirt and my bra, and since dry sex doesn’t count, he officially only got to second base.

So I know he’s physically attracted to me. But I don’t think he expects or wants a connection beyond that. To his credit, he tried very hard not to seem incredulous when the conversation turned to my education, but I still felt the disbelief. He seemed uncomfortable talking with me about anything other than my experiences as a cheerleader.

But you know what the biggest red flag should’ve been? While were cuddling on the couch, he said that we were going to have to be “discreet” because he was very concerned with what his son might find out about. I immediately sat up and started putting my shirt back on while saying “Oh, so you’re only looking for a fuck buddy?” And there was a beat of silence, not a big beat, but a beat nonetheless, before he said “No, no, not at all,” and then started talking about how he really wanted to get to know me better.

With any other guy, I would have seen all the warning signs and ended things before they even started, but not with him. He wasn’t arrogant or cocksure, he even admitted to being surprised that I was interested in him at all [which was incredibly flattering], I thought he was different from all the others. I thought I had a shot at a relationship that didn’t involve a Sugar Daddy.

Guess not.



Addendum to a Missive
October 29, 2007, 4:24 pm
Filed under: dating, games, Life, love, Men, relationships, thoughts | Tags: , , , , , , , ,

Of course, after having declared it officially his move, I should probably explain that although this seems like a very rational, healthy, adult thing to do, it isn’t [this is me we’re talking about here, have you learned nothing?] If he isn’t consumed with jealously by the way his friends flirt with me and doesn’t swoop down to claim me, I will will probably crumple like a rag-doll and within the next two weeks be involved in a relationship with a wealthy, arrogant, egotistical, older man.

You know, it’s not just those who are ignorant of the past that are doomed to repeat it…those of us that wrote the book are susceptible too.



This Time I Mean It
October 29, 2007, 4:11 pm
Filed under: dating, games, Life, love, Men, relationships, thoughts | Tags: , , , , , ,

I’ve decided I’m not going to approach him after all. I’m tired of laying the groundwork; creating the perfect set-ups for him to ask me out and then feeling horribly let down when he doesn’t. If he’s really that shy, he needs to grow a pair; if he’s really that dense, we wouldn’t have lasted long anyway. He’s got my phone number, my address, and my obvious interest; the ball is in his court.