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Can One Picture Ruin Great Conversation?

As usual, I’m feeling some kind of way.

I’ve finally accepted that in the online dating world, men assume you are a fat ogre if you don’t post more than four photos on your profile and if most of them are shots of your smiling face, you are by default, the mom from What’s Eating Gilbert Grape.

I do have one full body photo on my profile, which I felt is a sufficient representation of me, my size and my body type. I was feeling confident and my outfit was cute.

But I noticed that when I was talking to a fitness model/personal trainer who talked about his fitness regimen non stop, who seemed to be interested, everything came to a screeching halt when he asked me to send a full body photo of myself while I was at a New Year’s Eve party.

So, I took it, hit send. There wasn’t really a response. And then there weren’t any responses. He started fading me out politely with fewer and fewer messages, hellos, good mornings and how’s your day texts. I know that trick. I use that trick.

Deep down I knew I didn’t want a man who was that obsessed with the gym. I knew he was going to have unrealistic expectations of me and even if he found me attractive, he’d feel like I wasn’t working hard enough to improve myself. Because he’d ask me questions about what I was eating and if I had worked out. So I didn’t need that kind of pressure. I didn’t want a man that bad. And when I go to the gym, I want to do it for me. No one else. To make me feel good about myself.

But truth be told, I could use a little more help in that area. And it seems these days men who are in shape explicitly and implicitly say through words, and actions that the woman in their life should be as fit as they are. Not sure if it’s a fair standard, but people like what they like and want what they want.

This isn’t where the story ends though. I have been sending messages back and forth with a really cool guy who happens to do a lot of business on the West Coast. Last night, we talked on the phone into the wee hours of the morning. Which was a terrific sign to me. He was funny, he was charming, he was passionate about things and opinionated. Twice in the conversation he made jokes about me “beating the house” by meeting him and that I could call my family because he is the dude.

Keep in mind, I’ve heard this stuff before, but it was refreshing coming from him. So the discussion turned to why I only had two photos on the dating site. I told him I had more but I started to take them down slowly because I was considering giving up online dating for a nice long while. But I told him I didn’t have any problem sending him a few photos.

So I sent my cutest ones. And most are selfies from the chest up. He mentioned that I didn’t send a full body pic, so I went for broke, I sent the same New Year’s Photo that seemingly scared away Mr. Fitness Model. I took a deep breath, and hoped that on the strength of the nearly three-hour conversation we had and the several texts we shared throughout the day, he’d see something that Mr. Fitness Model didn’t.

He commented as I sent the previous photos. He mentioned my beautiful natural hair. I told him I was heading to bed, and sent the last.

Radio silence. So I stayed up with the sheets up to my neck and I waited 10, even 20 minutes to get a response.  A nice, a beautiful anything positive. And nothing.

So I wondered and wondered if one, it wasn’t a very flattering photo or these men don’t like my body type.

I told myself that I am attractive and beautiful and no one should need that much convincing.

I told myself that I did say I was going to bed, so maybe he would reserve his comments until the next day, when he said earlier he would indeed talk to me.

But did that change after that one photo? There’s the three-hour time difference. Surely he’ll say hello by lunch time east coast time.

I won’t be insecure. I won’t even ask him if he liked the photo or not. Didn’t he enjoy our conversation?

How did I end up in such a war with myself approaching 32? There are so many ways that I feel powerful and sexy and good about myself, and then in other ways I am so aware and it feels like my insecurities share my apartment and space like mooching roommates.

My cousin tells me I tend to think of the worst possible scenario and that I am not patient. So, I’m going to wait it out. And I may even post the one photo of myself that seems to be at the root of my rejection on the online site to see the reactions and if I’m nuts.

Welp, he’s online now. And hasn’t said anything. That might be my answer…

Why Am I Really Alone?

Over the weekend, I’ve had a few conversations with some folks that have been somewhat eye-opening.

Earlier in the week, I had another back and forth with Kyle Barker. He said a few things that upset me as usual, but also as usual it made me think a few days later.

I talked to him about my online dating experiences and what I want and need. He went on this whole speech about how I treat him and how I probably treat the guys I’m talking to online the same way.

I told him that I was sweet as pie to the other guys, but I tend to find something wrong with all of them.

I told him I only give back what’s put out there to me and that’s why we are the way we are.

To which he replied, “original.”

I started to get mad. Why should he get more from me when he barely musters up enough to meet me for dinner or be available when I actually want him to be?

But he ended up saying something to the effect of me having extremes.

At first I thought he was full of crap and just poking me with a stick as usual.

But as time has gone on, I realize I’m moody.

When I’m high, I’m high. I want to be around people, I want to give them my love an affection, I want to go on 100.

But when I’m down, I’m down. I want to be alone, even when people offer themselves to me. And when I’m in those moods, I know I can’t give to the people in my life. And sometimes those moments have clashed, and I’ve fallen short of being the good friend that particular day.

I’m edgy, I’m testy and I’m angry that the people in my life can’t soldier on, pick up the pieces and get it together. But just like me, they are hurt too.

So I’ve told my friends, honestly when I have nothing to give and I apologize and I hope that another one of their friends can pick up the slack. I later vow to really be there, the next time. This time, I just couldn’t do it.

I keep learning something over and over about online dating and about men.

Men love happy women.

Men love women who are like happy all of the time, and who can continuously eat shit over and over and still smile.

And women, we try. We try so hard to fake it until we make it.

We genuinely want to be happy, but shit gets on our nerves. Life is difficult. We work hard, we have drama at work.

We have dreams deferred and student loan debt.

We want to make the people in our lives proud, we want to make ourselves proud.

We want to be good friends and sisters, daughters and wives and mothers.

We want to be attractive and desired. We want to eat fried food.

There are so many pressures on not just women, but people.

And when we want a man, or we want to impress one, and the older we get, the more we know how high the risk is of getting hurt is, it’s easy to be jaded.

But we lie to win the man.

Men like happy women.

We go along to get along. We stifle, we suppress. Then when we let it all out, the men we’ve won and wooed are surprised, they feel like they’ve been tricked and here comes the drama. Their expectations of drama free happy chick are unreasonable, and us trying to be that is unreasonable. And maybe I have been extra reckless with my words to see who will stick around. Who will be tough enough. Who can handle me, who can be steady when I’m up and down.

I’m a fucking after school special on foster kids testing their new parents to see if they will love them unconditionally.

I need some wonderful man to hug me while I kick and scream and call him names, and him hold me tight and tell me he can do this all day and all night because he isn’t going anywhere. I am not evil, or bad or unworthy or too picky or too neurotic or too broken because of my past. I am beautiful and loved and he will love me. Let it all out.

Kyle Barker said something about not being so raw and being more tactful. Once again, after years of doing this dance with this man, I’m quite raw. There’s no room for pretense in my opinion. Why can’t men see my honesty as that? Why can’t they see that as me being secure in myself and sharing my realness. It doesn’t have to dull the fantasy, but what about the maturity of life.

I can’t be fake anymore. I can’t.

I’m crass. A little nasty. A little spiritual, a little conservative. Sometimes I’m a huge contradiction. I can be moody and angry and not satisfied. I can be impatient. I can go off the deep end. I can think too much.

But I love. I love deeply. When people I love are hurting, I hurt for them. I cry for them, I pray for them. I want to make them baskets and cook for them or find their favorite hot sauce.

I had to laugh at myself for a recent text exchange I had with a guy who I really can’t peg. I’m growing bored with him already. He hasn’t stepped up. We were flirtatious on Skype, but things started heading south when he sent me a text at 2:30 a.m. asking me what I’m doing.

This morning.

Him: Good morning. How r u

Me: I’m awesome, how are you?

I’m good. Y r u awesome?

Because I am. It’s a short week. Got things to feel awesome about. I’m a fucking rockstar today. Bout to stunt on these office hoes.

LOL Hahahaha What you wearing

White jeans, cute top, cute shoes

And under that

A large, beating heart 🙂

Lol was that forward

Forward my dearest is texting me at 230 am. Yes that was forward too. But it all depends on how honest you are about what you think you want to get out of knowing me. If you just wanted to smash and wanted to see if I did too, I guess that’s proper behavior.

So after that, I got no response. I don’t think I’ll hear from him again. Poor thing.

And poor Dabnis hit me up yesterday asking if I was ok, to which I responded I’ve been moody. Then he said something about God not leaving us alone. It was a sweet thing to say and he was right. God doesn’t leave us alone. But for some reason, I don’t want the man who wants to get to know me. I’m terrible.

Over and over, I’ve met “nice” guys and I’ve blamed no attraction, or them being too into me, or them not being intellectual enough, or too old or too young.

Another friend mentioned that yes, I’ve been trying. “See, I have been trying. Yes! I’ve been putting myself out there.”

But I’ve kind of been acting like the kid who wants to get credit for gym class just for changing.

So I’ve been dressing for gym to get just enough credit. But I’m not really trying to ace the class. I’ve been going out on meaningless dates, having meaningless conversations, but not going for the quality.

I’m expecting people to accept me as I am, but who am I being right now? Maybe it’s not the real me.

Maybe that’s why I’m alone.

Dating Has Become My Second Job

Yesterday morning I woke up feeling like crap.

I spent a greater part of the previous night chatting with a guy on the phone into the wee hours. You’d think it was awesome until my high came down.

I was achy, tired. Grumpy. Work dragged on and I was edgy. Didn’t want to be bothered with anyone. Finished a project and left early to get some chicken pho (my go to cure-all for everything) and some sleep.

Talked to the same guy again for a while, while languishing on my couch last night, but it was almost like the club effect. Turn on the lights and you don’t see the same person you thought you were dancing with. You see a slovenly drunken, ugga bugga.

Beer goggles. Ciroc shades.

The really funny, easy guy I was talking to the previous night turned into a judgemental, Uncle Ruckus, who has an issue with my hair all of a sudden. I decided I didn’t care about his opinion because he is an unexposed, non-cultured person. And I’m not even being jerky about it. This guy really hasn’t been exposed and I don’t think he cares to expand his world view at all.

Black people who go on ad nauseam about how they hate large groups of black people or neighborhoods with too many black people irritate me. He actually said he feels better when he sees more white people. This guy is from the South and I can’t decide to call him Uncle Ruckus (A black self-hating, black people hating character on The Boondocks cartoon series) which I did to his face or Jim Crow.

He went on and on about how black people just want to eat fried food all the time with hot sauce and are unhealthy. Have you looked at the entire country? Poor eating habits are rampant across color lines. GTFOH. Negro, you probably have too many people in your family with diabetes and high blood pressure! Earlier he asked me to send another photo of myself and asked me, if I had just gotten out of bed, because my hair looked messed up.

Clearly, I was wearing full make up. I felt insulted. I’ve been getting a lot of reactions to my hair. Some men think it’s pretty awesome, which makes me very happy. Some just don’t really mention it, or they may ask me when I decided to go natural and why and when I explain my reasons, they tend to leave it alone.

My hair was styled in a similar way to how I had it styled in my profile pics. I told him “um, yes, it’s styled. I have natural hair.”

“Well do you wear it straight?”

“I can wear it straight, but it doesn’t last for very long, especially in warm weather. I’m getting braids next week because I don’t want to fuss with it on vacation.”


I’m thinking the whole time, “Seriously, Negro? Seriously?”

Then when he talked about all of the foods he wouldn’t eat or try, and asked me if Vietnamese food was Oriental, I decided this ain’t gonna go far.

Oriental? Might as well call me colored.

So I’ve decided that he has a serious self-love problem and no wonder he’s screwed up. His mother named him after one of the biggest white American Rock and Roll stars of all time and he grew up in the south. So I give him a pass and pray for his happiness someday. Anyone who knows me knows I am obsessed with African-American history and with Pan-Africanism. I love talking to my friends from other cultures within the Black diaspora and understanding their experiences and how they look at the African-American experience. I love my heritage. So someone like him, yeah, I have no patience for it at all.

So after further discussion, this dude got married early, to a woman who barely out of her first marriage (who wanted to be with him during this first marriage) and asked HIM to marry her.

Like I said, “Well, I mean she was barely out of the first marriage what made you ask her?”

“Well, she asked me.”


Because she was his first and only sexual partner he agreed. The marriage lasted 10 months.

She was cheating.

No kidding.

So yes, yall. Dating has become my second job and the stress from it I think caused me to just break down yesterday.

I foolishly tried to plan drinks with Kyle Barker, because he said something about him no longer being immune to my intoxicating vibe and energy. And of course, he stood me up.

I didn’t go to the gym as I planned and I sat at home eventually shedding clothing and pouring wine in a glass, disappointed in myself.

But the pull of new messages from POF keep making me go back and try and try again.

There’s one guy, who is really wordy with the most wonderful lips who I’m talking to and another guy who’s messages I seem to enjoy. I’ve booked drinks with him after I hang with some friends tomorrow night.

I don’t even want to get into the one dude who I talked to off and on and have never gone out with yet.

He asks me to a barbecue this weekend. Cool. Then he says it’s a guy from work, there’s free food and a dj.


Then he says he only knows the guy from work, so it’s a great chance for us to get to know each other.

Record scratch.

I tell him, if he wants to get to know me, we don’t have to go to the barbecue. Barbeques are social and honestly, if we don’t know the people that well, we are going to look like moochers.

So he said he agreed and would like to do lunch. I told him lunch was cool. Besides I didn’t want to drive all the way to that side of town to be non-social and looked upon as a mooch. I can afford to make my own burgers. Come on dude.

But I haven’t heard anything else sense.

So do you see why I’m drained folks? Do you see?

One more work week and I’ll be vacation bound in New Orleans. It won’t just be a vacation from my real job, but a much-needed one from dating…

It can’t come soon enough…

Itch Don’t Kill My Vibe, the Online Dating Edition

I’ve decided the longer you online date and not take breaks, you will become jaded.

It will get harder and harder to look at any new profile with fresh eyes and have just enough hope that this person could be your everything, that you can get through the conversations and the dates and the false starts.

I’m learning this.

There’s an interesting phenomenon happening where people I may have started conversations with and have dropped off, they are reappearing and actually telling me, “I guess you aren’t feeling me because you never hit me back.” Ugh.

Dabnis is already hinting at being invited over. And I hint back that I’m not ready for him to post up at my house (especially because he lives at home with his parents, I feel like if I start letting him over, he ain’t gonna leave). I invited him to go take a walk with me on Sunday through a beautiful series of gardens.

I was hoping there would be more sparks sparking off, but sometimes the conversation just fell flat and I found myself looking at my shoes. No heat.

Because of what he does for a living, he was able to tell me all of the work it took to keep such a place so well-manicured, or how difficult certain tree branches are to cut, or the difficulty of taming roses with horribly sharp thorns.

Being in such a beautiful place, I could remember with certain people, I could walk around talking and enjoying the beauty of it all for hours and even lay down a blanket and talk about all sorts of things. Surely surrounded by all of this beauty, I would be compelled to return the feelings of this guy who has declared his interest.

I was bored. I tried to focus.

Last night, I asked him what his flaws were.

He said that he can be too nice.

I told him that was a safe answer, a job interview answer like I work too hard, I’m my worst critic.

So I told him I’m impatient. I hold the people in my life to a high standard and when they fall short of it, I’m disappointed. I take it personally because I think so highly of them. But they are human and it isn’t fair. I can be moody and sensitive and really quiet.

He responded that he wouldn’t try to change me and sometimes he can be quiet too, and that even if we didn’t become a couple, he sees us being friends.

So maybe I introduced a dark cloud and rained on his parade a bit with my “real” moment.

If he’s enjoying the newness, I’m messing it up trying to get to and expose the flaws.

I’m killing his vibe. Damn.

Some other guy, who loves to abbreviate everything in texts, hit me up this morning. He said he guessed I wasn’t feeling him. I told him I thought he was attractive but something about him really screams to me he’s slick and full of shit.

So I didn’t say full of shit, but I said slick. So he catches an attitude tells me I didn’t give him a chance and to have a nice day.

I told him he was right and wished him the same.

This is my theory. Insecure, slick men go nuts when you call them out on it. It’s like supposed to be a secret that they only know and you had the nerve to bring it up. You had the nerve to trust your women’s intuition on the front end and not be swayed by their looks or their words.

Frankly, I don’t trust men online who always refer to me as beautiful, or sexy or gorgeous. I don’t trust men who use abbreviations when they contact me or simply ask all the time what you doing or wyd? as a greeting.

It’s not a greeting.

So I decided his angry response was a reaction to my hard-earned ability to feel the bs coming. I just don’t have the energy.

What confuses me are the men who double back if I haven’t stayed in contact and then casually mention I haven’t held up my end of the conversation.

I like being pursued. I just do. I need to know a man is interested, but I guess sometimes I can end up falling all the way back because I don’t want to be the pressed girl.

That’s the situation I’m dealing with in terms of the Candidate. I feel like he’s given me a green light, but he’s slow on the uptake even though he said we’d talk on Facebook. But I guess that’s back to me being impatient.

I’m struggling. I had a long talk with God and I’m just really having difficulty with my season of singleness right now.

I asked for the insight to recognize I’m where I am for a reason and I want to enjoy the freedom that comes with being single right now.

I want to appreciate that things have to line up in my life for certain things to happen. When I think about things that have happened to me, I always had to be at the right place at the exact right time, I had to meet the right person who led me from one opportunity to the next that links me to the next place I’m supposed to be. Different people, educational experiences, trips, work things have served as conduits to romantic and professional opportunity.

But right now, it feels like all of the circuits are broken. I’m not being connected to my future in any kind of way. Nothing is poppin. I’ve tried to be proactive and not sit on the sidelines, I’ve tried to be open. I’ve tried to relax some of my really high standards.

But still I feel some kind of way.

I’m not there. I’m not even close to wherever it is I’m trying to be.

In love. In real love.

I have to keep living my life and sprinkle new things in it so I can be in those places or around those people. It’s easy to get bogged down and just wonder.

I want to be ready for the love I want to enter my life. Maybe I’m not ready, or as healed or as mature, or selfless enough for the person God wants to bring in my life. Maybe he’s not quite ready either.

Thinking this way gives me comfort, but it doesn’t necessarily satisfy me.

But in the meantime, how do I not crush anyone’s spirit who actually does want to get to know me?

Introducing Dabnis Brickey

Well folks, we have a new guy to bring into the fold.

I’ve been holding out. I’ve been holding out on this one mainly because really, I’ve been tired of being disappointed. Still no word from the Candidate, even though my cousin thinks he’s going to pop up and I’m being impatient, while I don’t think he’s going to show up.

Anyway, I’ve carefully nicknamed this one guy I met from POF Dabnis Brickey, after a character on the Cosby Show who Vanessa Huxtable dated during the last season of the show. Vanessa met the older Dabnis, at her college where he was a maintenance man or head of maintenance.

I’ve named this new guy Dabnis, because basically that’s what he does for a large public school district in the area.

So, we’ve had some pretty good conversations and even though we had a dinner date planed for Friday night, a twist of fate led to us meeting up for drinks and a little food after work on Thursday.

There was a massive storm that blew through the area. I knew that traffic would be horrible, so when he said he would love to see me that night, I told him I wasn’t jazzed up, but it would be great to wait out the madness and head to my neck of the woods a little later.

So we talked, we enjoyed our conversation and we even went bowling after.

So, in my usual form, Dabnis is short. He’s probably easily 5’6 or 5’7 at the most, very lean, but well-built. Short, short hair cut and a lovely brown man with a thin goatee.

From what I can tell of Dabnis, he comes from a fairly large family with southern roots. He did go to college for one year, but I’m not sure what exactly happened. He seems to be a very hard worker and he enjoys his work and is proud of what he does.

He does live at home with his parents, and he says he has been saving money to buy his own home. He does go to church. Truth be told aside from being able to tell my father on father’s day that I went to church, I also wanted to tell him I made it to church today too.

There are a few interesting things about Dabnis. He seems to have a very wide range of friends. Some of whom are filthy rich, travel on private jets and invite him out for rounds of golf at exclusive country clubs where they are members. Then he has other friends he may have grown up with who have had tougher times and didn’t make very good decisions (even ended up in prison), but he treats them all the same and offers his friendship and advice.

I won’t lie. Because Dabnis brought up the fact that he does like nice things, but classifies himself as a saver, I did go on salary.com to see what he could be making at the very least and at the very most. I was actually pleasantly surprised with the numbers and didn’t give him a complete side eye when I saw his very nice German car.

And even though we ended up at a restaurant owned by a Top Chef winner, I also fought the urge to freak out when the bill came. He seemed at ease, he didn’t mind ordering a bottle of champagne and didn’t flinch with ever course that arrived.

The meal was luxurious. Every bite was delightful. The champagne was great and we talked about music and dating. He showered me with compliments and that’s no surprise. Because I slayed.

Black tulle dress, gold jewelry, hair fluffed to the heavens, red lip, high heels.

At the end of the meal, we had some of the chocolates that they made right on site. Delightful!

It was a good night.

But some of my problem is realizing the problem I have with really letting go.

This guy is a nice guy. This guy is a good-looking guy. He is employed and what was really cool about dinner on Friday night was with every course, he kept smiling when he noticed I was enjoying myself.

Even though he said he was really happy I was enjoying the food, you could see the pride on his face. I thought that was genuine and sweet.

I get nervous though when men keep saying really nice things about me, especially early on. Sometimes it’s game, and sometimes some men really are being honest and sharing their feelings, which is also rare.

Men tend to keep things to the vest, and I can’t decide if he is a hopeless, reckless romantic, or a man who knows who he wants and is trying to get it.

So far he’s said things like he feels lucky to be around be.

He said that I am a true beauty inside and out.

He told me that he’s really feeling me.

He told me he thinks he could spend hours and hours with me.

He said I have great hair, and skin and eyes.

When we talked about church and God, he said that he actually thanked God Thursday night for meeting me.

That’s when it was just too much.

Now he done went and brought the big guy into this.

Even if he did include me in his prayers, I felt a little claustrophobic. I told him that it’s just so soon and while I like compliments, just wait and see if I’m all of these things you think I am.

God, don’t let me ruin the possibility of a good thing because of fear and don’t let me not accept a compliment because I’m afraid it’s a lie, or that I can’t live up to it.

But I don’t want someone to blow smoke up my butt either.

I know one thing is for certain. I can’t break him off anytime soon. This poor man will lose his mind.

But I give him props for being very respectful and not too touchy feely. He’s doing a fantastic job in that regard.

So here we go…

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.

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…

Introducing “The Candidate”

Ok. Here we go. Still getting over the whole debacle with Officer Cutie, I went back to Plenty of Fish with vigor.

A couple of cuties hit me up, but they are starting to drop like flies. One guy was a firefighter who moonlit as a manager for a female rap artist. He sent me a link to her music video and I will say, she is telling her truth. But I’m not interested in songs about women running drugs for their men and watching her do that and kill him at the end. She could be a raging success if they ever made a Love and Hip Hop DC.

He was a bit much. I knew after a while this guy would go the way of Lancelot because he also had no filter. So once the convo died down, I think we don’t need to resume it.

Another guy was really cute. He wants to go to college and study journalism, God bless him. He seems really nice and after four years of being single, he is very ready for a relationship. He needs to stay in the yellow light lane.

Slow down.

But I enjoyed his convo, he’s good-looking and has a nice sense of style, but I get the sense because he wants to do what I’ve been doing for ten years, he’s going to end up feeling more like a mentee than a boyfriend.

But let’s get to the most interesting point of my night on POF last night.

I saw a pic of a really handsome guy. But I said to myself, he looks so familiar. I just couldn’t figure it out. It was driving me nuts. I knew that I knew him but just couldn’t think of where.

So straight up, I sent him a message saying that I thought I knew him and the two places I thought I may have known him from.

So he smiled and said one of the two (well email smile).

So I said, I feel horrible for not remembering, but if you are who I think you are, it can’t be right. This guy moved down here for his girl, and if he’s on POF, that’s foul. LOL.

So then, I looked at his user name. Spelled it out backwards and it was his REAL NAME.

I knew who this guy was. So I told him. Your user name is your name backwards. I totally know you. LOL.

Well, I totally knew who he was at that point because he was fine as hell and I interviewed him for a position on my team at work.

We offered him the gig, but after stringing us along for a week (he had other offers I heard through the grapevine) he turned us down.

Oh well not a biggie.

So he was still trying to remember me and then I said, well you actually interviewed at my job, strung us along and rejected the offer. I really wish you had been up front about the other offers. I said there’s no hard feelings. You were overqualified anyway. 🙂

So then he said he interviewed at a lot of places and finally remembered and asked me my name.

Then he said “to your other point, we broke up months ago. A friend told me about this site.”

So with my foot planted firmly in my mouth, I decided to give a little. “Hey, I understand about moving for love. I almost did it like three years ago. We were engaged and it didn’t work out. I really meant no disrespect, it was a joke. But I’m really sorry.”

So he laughed and said it was cool. So I give him points for still asking me out. Some men could have taken what I said really personally and went off on me.

Then came the kicker.

“So since we met randomly on here, there isn’t a reason why we can’t go out right?”

“Um, I guess not. I mean you didn’t take the gig, so no HR drama. Sure.”

And here we go.

Introducing The Candidate.

I feel okay about this because I already know his resume. I know he didn’t send a fake pic, and I know people who know him. I was already attracted when he showed up for the interview. I was actually relieved he didn’t take the job, because I would have had to stay calm and cool everyday.

But reasons why I feel some kind of way. He’s in the same industry as me, which can be a good and bad thing we know some of the same people, which can be a good and bad thing. I said I would not date someone in the same industry again (Oh Katherine Woodward Thomas and saying what I won’t do).

And the super biggie is, is a few months out post breakup, post moving for his woman. To make that kind of move meant they were serious and probably put some time in. So there’s a part of me that feels like I could be on some rebound tip and easy to date and discard since he didn’t have to vet me from the site. So those are the things in the back of my head.

I am willing to go out and hang, because hey, I’m down to see what happens. I’m taking a risk.

Valley Of Recycled Men

It’s no secret that I’ve joined Plenty Of Fish.

This whole adventure seems to be more social experiment, boredom-fighting, therapy session, life-coaching, myth-busting, professional baggage handling and job interview than actual romance, chemistry and budding love.

Plenty of Fish is starting to look like Chicken of the Sea, these days.

Let my junk yahoo email inbox tell it, and it seems like I’m swimming in men and interest.

But this site is more about quantity than quality or the stars just haven’t aligned.

I actually avoid men I’m very attracted to, because I’m certain I’m among many women who are attracted. And the attractive men are kind of mean when the kind of woman they aren’t interested in shows interest.

I also avoid men who already write like assholes talking about how great they are and how ripped they are or rich.

If you have photos with your shirt off, I don’t want to talk to you.

If you have photos of pit bulls, I don’t want to talk to you.

If you have photos of stacks of money, I don’t want to talk to you.

If you went nuts on instagram filters, I don’t want to talk to you.

If in none of your pictures, you don’t smile at least once, I don’t want to talk to you.

If you have specific requests about how equally fit your woman must be to you, I don’t want to talk to you.

If you drone on about how educated you are, I don’t want to talk to you.

If you have a one sentence profile or say, “Just ask me. We won’t have anything to talk about later,” I don’t want to talk to you.

If you talk about your mother or sisters a little too much…

Yeah. You make me nervous.

If you talk about how “trapped” your married friends are, that doesn’t inspire any faith in me that you are the marrying kind.

The craziest thing about POF is the recycled men factor.

I often think that among black folk in the DC, MD, VA area, while it is vast and wide, if you are between certain age groups, have a certain educational or socio-economic status, your friends will have dated the same man, once or twice.

And if you all are on Plenty Of Fish, it’s totally going to happen.

Case in point. Two ladies I know did date the same man from the site. The latter of the two didn’t like how touchy feely he was on the first date anyway, so by the time I warned her about the man with a very distinctive name and his inclination to lie about having children and being married, and his job, she said it was cool and he was cut off anyway.

It had been several months since the first friend had caught him in his web of lies and subsequently ripped him a new one and told him that he shouldn’t lie. Let the woman decide if she wants to deal with your baggage and really like who you are for you.

You’d think the man would learn his lesson. But instead he continues to shop the web, and lie to women. Why go through the dating? Why go through so much? This man is grown. In his 30s. But for whatever reason, he may be addicted to creating this alter image of himself, maybe the version he wish he could have been before he had a wife and child. But that kind of reckless behavior is cruel and unjust to women really looking for the real thing.

I had a date at a frozen yogurt spot Saturday, with a big-toothed gentleman, who loved to talk and ask me probing questions, I guess trying to keep up with my complicated journalistic mind. He was a traditionalist, who firmly held to gender roles, while often backtracking about wanting an independent woman. He was fixated on one of his best friend’s relationship, constantly using the word trapped. He conveniently scheduled our meeting an hour before he was to report to work nearby.

I told him he was way too invested in his friend’s marriage and he just needs to be honest, he doesn’t like his wife. His friend made the agreement to be in that relationship and they negotiated the terms. If from the outside to you, he looks like a trapped punk, who never has permission to hang out, and has to pick up children from day care. If this man feels this is what he has to do to keep his woman happy, guess what? He’s still married. He decided staying at home and not going out with his single friends was what he wanted to do, to keep the peace in his house. Is that right?

It depends on the man, and it depends on the precedent he set and the tone he set with his woman.

I have another date tonight after work.

Happy hour at one of the most notoriously clubbish, meat-markety TGI Friday’s in the region. The close second, which has probably taken the crown, is actually in my neighborhood. LOL.

Can’t say I’m looking forward to it, just because of the geography in relation to my job, but I don’t think I’ll be bored. I actually appreciated the fact that we didn’t have books long of conversation and that he just wanted to go out and meet me and see what was what.

So for his get-to-the-pointedness, I’m willing to meet this brotha for a mojito and some half-priced wings and keep it moving. I’m totally prepared to pay my own tab and bounce. Cash and carry.

I almost feel like I’m in the bird-in-the-hand mode.

I know I like Officer Cutie, (having a serious Olivia Pope gut moment about him) but I still don’t know enough to make me feel like he is going to be my next relationship, but I feel like there is a high possibility. And I’ve got to wait about three weeks before his visit. I’m very excited about the planning and I’m excited about seeing him.

But in the meantime, as I’ve often said, when I’m single, I’m single.

I’m not going to sit and twiddle my thumbs and wait. I do want to go out, see what’s out there, so if and when Officer Cutie arrests my heart, I’ll be all in and will have no doubt and back to my laser vision girlfriend ways.

Actually a good friend of mine said there will be true balance in the universe once I’ve snagged a steady boyfriend. I usually give myself a good breather between relationships, but according to my girl, this one has gone on for far too long.

But in my defense, my extended leave of absence from the relationship world was post an engagement. A broken engagement is the Zombie Apocalypse threat level red, of relationships. I’m sorry. It just is. You have to rebuild cities and towns, and make sure all of the Zombies are dead, and kill anything that even seems quasi-Zombie just in case.

That’s a huge thing to bounce back from and I needed adequate time to heal.

So here we go again.

Wish me luck.

Fingers crossed I don’t pick up any of my homegirls’ refuse along the way…

Short Post: I Realized I Have A Relationship Elevator Pitch

When you are online dating, you find yourself repeating the same song and dance over and over. And if you are speaking with someone you are interested in, you give a little more, you give more details, more color.

As I meet new men almost everyday online who see my profile and want to say hello, I’m realizing something very interesting.

It’s almost like the “elevator pitch” business people have to give quickly and with impact to make a deal, or develop a new business opportunity with someone who can take them to the next level.

Saying over and over again what you are looking for and what you want and don’t want in a relationship and in a partner is actually quite powerful.

I was thinking to myself that, doing this is basically like an affirmation and the more I do it, I think the more that type of man will come and enter my life, and it will give those who aren’t on my program the chance to exit peacefully and quietly, no hurt feelings.

There is a wonderful liberation in plainly saying, this is what I want. This is what I don’t want.

You don’t have to be a jerk about it or have a super specific, super long list, because no one really wants to hear that. But if you lay down some serious must-haves and deal-breakers it helps. I’ve also found that it’s important to not just drone on about what you don’t want, but talk about the qualities you like and how those qualities make you feel.

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