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Archive for the tag “online dating fails”

Twitter Request: My New Dating Profile

I decided to change my profile info. Because at the time I wrote the original, I was optimistic, and horribly impatient.

I’d like to share an excerpt from a recent conversation I had.

This whole process has me questioning about how elitist and shallow I really am.

In my mind, and through this process, I keep saying I want to be more open, but I keep finding myself not getting disappointed not so much with the men (plenty of whom were nice, but didn’t have IT), but with MYSELF for talking to folks who I knew didn’t fit into my box and going against what I knew I am attracted to.

So how do you not make the same mistakes by seeking the same kind of people who didn’t work anyway? How do you REALLY give different types of people a chance, and honestly set aside your biases or preconcieved notions?

I feel like after talking to a lot of guys, I’m no better than any of these other jaded, mad, women. I do care about the level of education someone has. I care if a man lives at home without a really good reason. I care if the person hasn’t stepped outside of their neighborhood and has had limited life experiences. I care about what they do for a living. I care if they have children. I care a lot, if I’m not sexually attracted. 🙂

I want everyone looking for what they want to find it. And I don’t want people to be offended if they aren’t it for me, because I won’t be if I’m not.

I love to write. I love movies and music. I’m a big fan of live music and theater. I love food and enjoy cooking for special people in my life. I do want to travel more out of the country and I look forward to doing that. I’m also a fan of taking mini breaks in local places and pretend I’m a tourist.

I love talking to people and because of my profession, I have a tendency to seem more interested in what people are saying and their conversation and thoughts and it’s great for writing, but horrible for my love life, because men I’m not that interested in mistake that for real interest in them and attraction. I feel terrible about that. And I’m not sure how to correct that because I enjoy learning about people and I can talk to anyone.

 

NOTE: I’M PROBABLY GOING TO TAKE THIS DOWN. IT SEEMS SO SAD. I will replace it with nothing.

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Punishment for the Pressed

Oh folks.  Call me “can’t get right.” I messed up with The Candidate yet again. Being emotional and silly from my weekend of self pity, I woke up this morning with the bright idea to send him a message and get ahead of what I figured was his impending rejection.  All of a sudden he didn’t contact me and it continued for a few days.

So in my message I say, “Happy Sunday hope all is well. I thought we were going to talk some more.  But it’s ok.  Take care. ”

Several hours later after I finish a long and intense workout to get my mind right and blow off steam, he hits me back. He said he hasn’t been in contact with anyone because there was a death in the family.

I felt smaller than an ant.

My Nike sneaker tasted salty, sweaty and leathery.

I responded with an apology and my condolences. I said I had now a total of two times putting my foot in my mouth and that I was very sorry.

If this man manages to still be interested in me,  I’ve decided it will be a miracle. I let myself get pressed and crazy-the very things I never want to be. And it looks like me and my pride and ego have had to pay dearly and I deserve to learn my lesson in such a manner.

 

 

Sniffing Coffee Beans

I was in a funk for the entire weekend.

Guys who seemed to be interested all started flaking out at levels of disbelief.

These were people who initiated contact with me, flattered me, talked about the future, blah blah.

But when it came down to it, it was all talk and no action and no follow through.

I haven’t heard anything from the Candidate and I’m a little disappointed.

I had a long heart-to-heart with my favorite cousin and she said that I need to just stop.

She described my recent Plenty of Fish binge as being at a department store fragrance counter and smelling every cologne without sniffing coffee beans in between to clear my nostrils so I can actually smell each, distinctive scent.

Well hot damn. She dropped some knowledge on me.

I have been acting like an unsupervised fat kid at Golden Corral.

I’ve been wanting to feel something, meet someone great so badly that I haven’t really been taking time to nurture any real friendships or relationships. I’ve been getting frustrated by non-responses, or responses that I thought were stupid and checking people off of my “good enough for me list” that I started becoming the women I make fun of.

I was going out on dates because I was bored and they actually asked, but I didn’t have a genuine attraction. And with every new conversation, I feel my patience getting shorter and shorter.

My cousin is right. I need a great whiff of coffee beans to reset my mind. I need a break from POF.

I thought going into it with such vigor, would give me the results I wanted because I was actually trying this time. I was showing the universe that I could handle this that I was truly ready for love. So bring em on.

I’ve run into a number of issues. Good looking successful men who thought they were too good-looking and successful to even talk to me.

Men who live at home with their folks, which seems to be not so uncommon these days, but they seem to have a chip on their shoulder about it because of the way other women have responded to it.

And dream sellers, the men who compliment, flirt and say the right things, yet they fade away.

I’m not sure of where my next guy is. I’m just not.

I don’t want to get married today.

I just want someone in my life who I’m excited about and who is equally excited about me. Someone who wants to spend time with me, a person’s whose company I can enjoy. Where we can be quiet all night or laugh all day. I can’t be crazy. This has to exist somewhere.

Friday night I felt this insane claustrophobic feeling. It felt like I was starved for love and it hurt and the panic set in. Where was it? Would it be coming?

It made me wonder if I made a mistake by ending things with Officer Cutie. Should I have given it a try despite my gut feeling about the drama to come with his child? I knew I did the right thing. That baby is too young, the relationship between he and the mother has not matured enough. I did the right thing. I know I did.

But feeling like this hurts. And I don’t want this feeling to drive me to desperation. That’s totally unattractive and I’m better than that.

I’m a jerk. I’ve turned down nice guys, but I wasn’t attracted to them. And that makes me a horrible person. But I’ve tried that stuff before. I tried to look past my unattractedness and kept saying this person is nice, this person is nice, and it still didn’t work.

Coffee beans.

I can’t seem to get this shit straight.

Once my ipod recharges, I’ll hit the gym. Maybe that will help…

RIP, Boo Thang. Good Riddance, Lying-Ass

Well folks, you’ve been reading.

You all saw this coming.

People move in and out of our lives all of the time.

Seriously, think about it.

New jobs, new cities, graduating from school, going back to school, your church, death, people rotate in and out.

That is the nature of this thing called life. We are in constant motion, traveling through it.

As I told you all in my last post, I was growing weary. Time was running out for Boo Thang.

And time ran all the way out Thursday night.

When he asked to stop by, I assumed he was feeling the vibe that things weren’t going well, especially since I sent him that text about confidence.

Nope.

He was happy as a clam and even brought wine. I introduced him to Moscato D’Asti and now it’s like the best thing in the world.

So being oblivious, he want to hug me and kiss me and I kept squirming like Pepe Le Pew’s unfortunate feline girlfriend who keeps falling in the wrong can of paint to make her look like a skunk.

I was blocking shots like Mutumbo.

So after a great discussion about the state of the black community, politics, the sequestration and watching Awkward Black Girl, the finale (it’s awesome), he was getting ready to leave.

I told him I wanted to talk to him about something. I couldn’t let him leave. I couldn’t take another day of being phony or knowing that I wasn’t that into him.

So he sat down in the chair and he braced himself. He braced himself.

I started out with asking him what he wanted from this relationship and where he saw things going.

Brace yourselves for his answer.

“I don’t know, I want us to keep hanging out and getting to know each other and then it can go somewhere.”

My response:

“It’s been five months. We haven’t seen each other for two weeks and we haven’t really been talking a whole lot. Things seem to be going ok to you?”

“Well things haven’t been great, but I just thought we were both busy.”

Yeah, ok, pimp.

So I go on about me wanting a serious relationship and how I’m at the point where the direction I’m trying to head now is marriage. I spoke about how at 28, just getting out of grad school, he has just started his professional life, he has just started his grown up life.

I even realized that even though there was a few years between us, in life experience, I had a decade on him.

He’s never lived outside of Maryland.

I’ve lived and worked in a bunch of different places, I’ve had ups and downs in my relationships. I’ve had to speak up sometimes and fight for things, I’ve been through a lot. I’ve learned to love myself, I’ve learned to appreciate who I am.

I told him that I have high expectations of the man who is going to be my man. I told him I mentioned the confidence thing because I can’t be confident for him I want the man in my life to really know himself and be able to make decisions and I will stand by him and be his biggest supporter. I told him he’s not there yet.

I said there was nothing wrong with that, it’s just timing.

So with big puppy eyes, he asks, “Well is it where I’m at professionally?”

Wrong again, lad.

I told him not at all. He’s where he’s supposed to be.

“Does this mean you don’t want to talk anymore?”

I said, “I would actually love to still talk to you and hang out, but we got to stop the romantic stuff.”

At this point, he already had his baseball cap on low across his eyes. Before then, his brows stayed in a permanent knot on his forehead as he listened.

I told him, if I’m off base, to correct me, but I’m pretty sure I’m right. I told him he is in transition and that is ok, but the fact I have to explain why I want to be picked up and dated and wanting some consistency, it’s a problem. No one who is five months into something does not really see or make time for each other for two weeks and they live in the same area.

So he said he’d talk to me later, we hugged and he left.

He sent me a text later, saying that he was glad to see me and appreciated our talk.

I told him I agree.

But that’s not how this story ends folks, oh it gets better. I mean, it wouldn’t be a 29tolifeblog story if there wasn’t a ridiculous twist.

A homegirl of mine said she thought she saw old boy on a dating site.

Not the one where we met and where I thought we both closed our profiles…

This fool must believe in loopholes.

So this morning she’s like, I have a screen capture of the profile. I said, well what’s the name and what’s the city?

City, check.

Profile name.. was the name of homeboy’s favorite rapper and some number and I already know not many people would pick that name.

My friend sent the pic. And boom there his ass was.

Here I was, feeling sorry for him. Thinking I had broken his simple, little heart and this mo fo has been out there, probably still talking to other women.

So, that’s all folks.

Here we go again.

I’m open to suggestions. If you folks have great friends, cousins, uncles, third tier friends, send em my way.

Back to the drawing board. Again.

Tip the bartenders, God Bless and good night folks.

Here I am, in a tee-shirt, wrapped in a blanket chronicling my pitiful life for you all and having a Sex and the City marathon, because Carrie Bradshaw knows me like no one else.

I’ma keep hope alive.

Shit is real.

Online Dating and My Interesting Two Days Of It…

After a few glasses of wine and some silly girl conversation, a friend convinced me to join an online dating site. I signed up for three months and after about 48 hours, I’m already over it.

I tried to tell myself be open-minded, to give people a chance, but most of these men are hideous.

If they are good-looking, they are primping and posing with no shirt on, and I don’t want them either. Or they have 3 or 4 kids. Like they are 26, and have 3 and 4 kids.

I’ve already been yelled at and put down because I don’t want to give my number just because they said my photo was pretty. I’ve been told I am immature and playing games because I’m not ready to give my full first name, after I already said up front I don’t want to until I feel more comfortable exchanging more messages. I feel that I have a unique name and because of what I do for a living, folks can look me up and find out a lot of information. Excuse me for knowing stranger danger is real.

Then I have guys who are 24 years old grilling me about my life plans and successes and aspirations because they are super ambitious and their latter 20s, which are truly humbling years haven’t happened yet. They are so excited about just completing college and so proud of that, it’s like they are really trying to quantify my success and measure it by their scale.

No me gusta.

It’s flattering at first. All of the pings and the men saying they think you are pretty, beautiful and stunning even. I think a couple hundred men have viewed my profile in just two days and about 90 of them have actually tried to reach out.

Most I weren’t interested in, but it gave me a high. I kept checking the site to see who else admired me and actually wrote to me in their own words instead of using the stock responses.

But if I see another profile talking about how they don’t want to deal with drama, or they are drama-free, or how they don’t want to play games, they want women and not little girls, I’m going to scream. These men are regurgitating the same crap over, and over and over again. Those are what I call the “drinking game words and phrases.”

This truly has offered a number of lessons in social anthropology and psychology.

Some of the arrogant men want to pick me a part and almost make me prove I’m worthy to talk to them. It seems that a lot of these men are defensive and sensitive and jaded. I really thought they had more options. Or these men are just the losers of the world. I can’t call it. I’m already having ptsd because now I’m super careful of everything I say if I choose to write a man back and I feel I have to explain why I don’t want to give my name, number and address off the top.

You would think having a pick of hundreds of profiles would help me narrow down the field. Only two men have seemed remotely interesting, but there’s still something about both that leave a sour taste in my mouth. I may go out with one of them.

Now men I don’t even know and have never seen in person can be rude? Or too pushy? Or send me poems already? It’s almost laughable that I almost got into an argument with one man who just really had to have the last word and continue to berate me.

Then I had to realize, hol up. I can just delete this fool. Why am I getting bent out of shape?

Delete.

This is supposed to be fun right?

This isn’t where I’m going to meet my husband, this is just a place to meet folks in the meantime, so why the hell do I care?

Because I do want to meet my husband someday and not think the perfect man for me was actually killed by a drunk driver last night.

I have a feeling that I’m not going to survive the three months, because I’m not feeling this online dating. Maybe I should have chosen another site, but I was just encouraged to try something and get out there.

I think I’m going to go back to the drawing board and just start putting more effort into my outfits, hair and make up every time I go out.

For some reason I feel like online dating was a lot more fun in college. I actually used it to either talk to guys at my college who I was nervous to approach in person, or meet guys from my college I would have never otherwise met. It was great. Everyone seemed more attractive and with far less baggage.

Online dating now, it’s a whole other story. I feel like I’m in a virtual rehab facility/halfway house where people are still recovering from bad situations, relearning how to integrate into society.

So what does that say about me?

Am I desperate?

Am I lazy?

Am I now ugly and uninteresting where when I go out, quality men (who I like in return) just can’t see my aura and gravitate to me.

At the urging of my home girl from the illustrious Kiss and Hide blog, I picked up a book that claims to help you get to your soul mate in seven weeks. It’s called, “Calling On the One.”  Now I don’t know if my soul mate will come a calling six weeks and six days later, but the author is speaking some serious truth about self work. And I’m about that.

I will agree, that when you open yourself up, when you are honest with yourself and real about your limitations, but play up your strengths, you will give off a certain confidence, you’ll reevaluate what’s important and that will open you up to looking at the people around you differently, and maybe even your guy will be closer than you think or someplace you didn’t expect.

Right now, I’m a dog chasing my tail.

I’m dangerously close to throwing nearly a year of celibacy out the window for a guy who turns me on like nobody’s business but has no interest at all in a real relationship.

So I press on.

I don’t think I’ll check for my messages as frequently, because at day three, this crap is already getting old, and I’m getting older too…

Okay, I am impatient and acting like a child with a Christmas toy, but I’m sorry, I can tell already this is wack.

Someone give me some encouragement. Stick it out for the three months and occasionally check the emails and accept a date or two? Make the best of it? Or call it quits now?

What say ye?

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