I wrote most of the following post rant after the last of several crappy condescending and chauvinistic incidents in the three preceding weeks. Feel free to skip it. The quoted portion is what I wrote last week. I’ve since calmed down a bit and am now feeling slightly less jaded. I explain why at the end.
I alluded to this in my previous post and on my Facebook page. And a dozen times in my Match.com dating disasters.
<rant on> Recent events in Texas have reminded me of my pet peeve of too many superficial compliments, but few to none, nada, zip, zilch about anything substantial.
Am I really just a piece of pretty fluff?
In my previous post, I mentioned how much chauvinism and blatant objectification there is of women in the south. If I sound a bit, well, annoyed, you’re right. I’ve pretty much had my fill of it lately.
I’ve mentioned before how polite Texans are as a whole, but there is a dichotomy to their manners, at least those of some of the men. On one hand most are very polite, calling you ‘ma’am’, holding the door, insisting on paying for everything. But on the other hand some of those same men will just as quickly treat you like an object, or as if you are “less than” for being a woman.
If you don’t share this story, zombies will get you. (Just a little.) . . . → But wait, there’s more! : I’m feeling slightly less jaded than last week. Yeah, there’s that.
A while back I wrote Ten Things: Ten Reasons Dating Sucks.
Because of my mixed feelings about dating vs. remaining single, I now have ten more reasons dating sucks. And because I’m apparently a glutton for punishment.
I’m on the “Single” side right now. Rather wary of the opposite sex at the moment.
MamaSteph, in her article Men… Ugh…, put it better than I ever could have…
I am not at all a stupid person, in fact, I like to think of myself as rather smart, but on occasion I do some very stupid things, most of which involve men. I love men, everything about them, wide shoulders, hairy chests, deep voices, big hands, the way they smell… anyway, where was I? Oh yes, for a relatively smart girl I have made some bad choices in men, bad choices, like if stupidity was a crime I would be a lifer with no parole. If I walk into a room with 100 men the ones who hone in on me first are the most unstable, I will then pick the worst one of them to date, it’s a character flaw.
I feel a kindred spirit to this woman, a complete stranger. But she knows me and I know her. Like her, I, too, am not desperate for a relationship, I am single by choice. However, I would welcome the opportunity to share my life and adventures with the right man. Emphasis on RIGHT.
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I love small-town festivals. Especially if they have a wacky theme… like oysters.
Long-time readers may recall the Begonia Festival in Calpitola, California, also know as the time I “brought sand to the beach“. (That means bringing a date to a cadre of single, financially successful men. A bad idea, much like bringing sand to the beach.)
Have I learned anything? No. So far this year has been pretty bad when it comes to my dating choices. (That’s a total understatement.) The married “but I’m separated” ones continue to plague me like locusts. Some going so far as to lie altogether about their marital status.
Really? REALLY??! Jesus crust.
Just another scent I must be giving off.
But today I’m not going to bore you with my numerous dating woes. Mostly because this shit is just getting old. Instead, I’m going to regale you with the Fulton Oysterfest. You’ll never guess what the theme is.
Fulton Oysterfest Carnival 2012
Fulton, Texas Oysterfest Float Parade and Carnival I had the best. funnel. cake. ever. Not too greasy, and the dough was the best!
It’s important to note that float parades in Texas are different from those in California. The Begonia Festival in Capitola utilizes actual floating floats, covered with flowers.
In Texas, where all cars are one-ton diesel pickup trucks,
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Continuing the theme of How to Ask a Gal Out (the “Don’ts”), I now present the “Do’s”…
Red roses, and a warmed heart. (No, I didn’t get roses from him or anyone in a long time, but I love getting flowers. hint hint)
He said, “I just spent the night with Kernut!”
That was the title of his post to the singles group list of 700 people!
Holy Shatner! Considering it’s been a while since anyone could claim that statement, I wasn’t sure what to think.
His message to the list continued…
Ok, not like THAT. (Pity)
I am sitting in the airport in Albequerque, waiting to fly to South Dakota so I can “move” there. I came across the email with a blog link and have had a fabulous time reading old posts. She educated me on boondocking, took me to a brothel, gave me dating advice and explained why she is still single, although I honestly still don’t understand the last part. (By the way, I was married once. We had his and hers scissors. It helped a lot but not enough).
Anyway, if you haven’t followed her blog, you should. She is quite refreshing to read.
For the record, Kernut, even though I have used both fabulous and refreshing in this email, I swear I am not gay. I hope to meet you one day, although I am sure you will still choose singledom! And I agree, the 3 date rule is utterly stupid. Guys who believe it should . . . → But wait, there’s more! : He told 700 people, ‘I just spent the night with Kernut!’
I’ve been trying to come up with something to write, but all I’ve got is a list of random stuff that makes for better titles than posts. I couldn’t even come up with ten of them for a Ten Things Tuesday post.
Huh. My life is in the shitter.
My mother just told me my great grandparents were invited to the Royal Wedding of Queen Elizabeth and Prince Philip.
They didn’t go.
What did I learn from this? You dis the Royal family once, and your future generations will never ever be invited again.
I’m considering giving up dating, for good. The men I’m meeting have no follow-through. They act totally interested, but then seem to get cold feet. After attempting to schedule a second date, they fall off the face of the earth if I can’t meet the ONE time they suggested. It doesn’t matter if I’ve met them online, or through friends (the preferred way).
Case in point:
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After spending a couple hours getting to know each other, I was ready.
I’ve waited a long time for this moment.
Taking my time, I slowly warmed her up. Pushing all the right buttons, her fine motor began purring beneath me. I wrapped my hands around her, slowly stroking her, discovering the feel of her, getting to know her better.
She had unexpected strength and power, but she gave over full control to me, completely trusting me. Not one to hold back, she gave me as much as I wanted, as much as I could take.
I wanted all of her, and I was ready to take her to the next level.
With her sweet motor purring beneath me, I
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Smart women prefer cats. This is from the Pickles cartoon strip by Brian Crane. He's probably very smart. His work is at http://comics.com/pickles/
Well, it’s been an interesting (read: weird and dull) couple of weeks with my latest Match.com escapades. (This is post number gazillion in my Match.com misadventures.) I’ve noticed a similarity between almost all of the interested men on Match.com: They will make an attempt to schedule a date, including one specific date and time with their request. In the event that ONE date and time don’t work with my schedule I return an alternate date or set of dates.
They fall off the face of the Earth and I don’t hear from them again.
Here’s the latest update on my Match.com Misadventures…
If you don’t share this story, zombies will get you. (Just a . . . → But wait, there’s more! : The Matches Couldn’t Start A Fire With Gasoline and A Lighter
Maybe the matches will light a fire and flush out the good ones on Match.com.
This is totally what it's like.
(If this is your first time here, the Match.com Misadventures starts with this post.)
Since my prospects were dwindling on Match.com, I’ve taken to contacting men first. Some I just send a wink to, and others I email.
I’m only initiating contact because when I polled you all, you said it wasn’t going to negatively impact the potential relationship.
That, and I’m desperate to find good matches.
Here are the matches with whom I’m currently playing…
Zen Biker Guy – (He wrote to me first.) He’s 50, lives in the mountains, loves his dog, and has a dreaded Harley. This Harley is of the “Lone Wolf” variety. This means it’s set up for only one rider – him. He’s divorced, no kids, eats healthy, doesn’t drink, and is hugely into meditation – all pluses. I’ll overlook the Lone Wolf Harley for those pluses.
Our first date was a coffee date. He didn’t look like his pictures (older, heavier, dressed much worse), but close enough that I could still recognize him. He is a big talker; I could hardly get a word in edge-wise. He arrived for the date covered in dirt, after dirt-bike riding right before the date. Apparently he wasn’t concerned with putting on a clean shirt and pants. Or first impressions.
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<rant on> (That’s code for “the following is more rant than post”, thankyouverymuch. That’s also a disclaimer. I just need to get this out so I can move on with the dating. If you’re new here, I Joined Match.com. I blame the cold medicine is the first in this series, and continues with Adventures in Online Dating, then Match.com The Odds Are Good That the Goods Are Odd, and Time To Light A Match.com. We are now at post number five, a rant. The others are better.
You are under no obligation to read further, but your assistance with the question at the end is greatly appreciated.)
This is terrible.
I’m becoming jaded. Jaded by the lack-luster, creepy, freaky, sex-starved oddballs who contact me on Match. Very few bother to read my profile. Very. few.
Where people look. (Totally borrowed from a site that also borrowed it. Unfortunately, I don't know the origin.)
How Not To Match.com
First off, just don’t join. When I started this it was to honestly find someone to date, and with whom to hopefully form a nice, long-term relationship. Now I’m fighting becoming jaded. And I’m not sure I’m succeeding.
While it takes a LOT of weeding through garbage to find the nice guys in the mix, it seems hardly worth it when you have to contend with the buggy, glitchy software, and the crappy Match.com interface.
It automatically sends “winks” as if they’re from me! To people at whom I would not choose to wink. Match . . . → But wait, there’s more! : How Not To Match.com
It’s time to light a match – it’s starting to stink on Match.com.
This is part four (I think, but I’m starting to lose count) of my Match.com Adventures. Part three is Match.com: The Odds Are Good That The Goods Are Odd.
Here are the latest two guys from Match.com:
Chatty Guy, is in high tech, has four kids, and likes to dominate the conversation. We had a first date, lunch at a local chain restaurant. There are no big pluses in his court, but he does have a few minuses: He bashed his ex on our two dates, he talks over me all. the. time., and he lied about his age (said 49, but is 52).
Normally, lying about age is grounds for immediate disqualification in my book, but I’ve since began to wonder if perhaps I’m still single at my ripe old age because I might be a tad too picky. With this in mind I polled my friends and readers on Facebook and here’s what they said:
Lied About Age Guy part 1
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