One Week.
That's all it takes to go from cautious optimism to embarrassed defeat. And the worst part is you never know what happened. He just disappears.
We've all been there. One good date is a fluke. Two is a blessing. Fantastic good night kisses, the kind that shouldn't be indulged if one party has no intention of seeing the other again. You're beginning to give the butterflies in your stomach a little free reign, starting to think "Hey, I could like this guy"
And then the communication stops. He doesn't call, he doesn't return texts. He simply ceases to exist in any tangible form you can access. He has become a foggy dream that is starting to feel like an uneasy nightmare. The only blessing is the fact that it was only two dates, and you managed to keep your feelings in check. If it had been four, or even three dates, the emotional fallout could have been much worse.
As it stands, you will be fine.
But it's impossible not to feel the slight disappointment, the sharp reminder that someone has found you not worth the trouble of seeing again, much less giving you a moment's thought afterwords. You are trying not to be hurt.
The truth is that it's the simple cessation of contact that is the most irksome. And the knowledge that if you persist with trying to break through the radio silence that you risk looking "desperate" or "pathetic", but you somehow hold on to the idea that perhaps he didn't get the message... or he lost your number? or he's just holding back and playing hard to get?
And the worst part is you know you've done the same thing to others before... that karmically speaking you deserve it... So really you know you should just shut up and take it. But you don't want to. You're fighting the urge to send one more text. The question is... what response do you expect? And if there is no response again, will that just make it worse?
So do you send that text, leave that one message... or do you put down the phone and walk away?
Thursday, July 29, 2010
Saturday, July 24, 2010
I am naked in a book...
Let me tell you this is not an easy subject to broach... with anyone... family, friends, co-workers... much less a potential boyfriend.
I figured the best way to handle it, and the possible fall out was to hit it head on. After all, it's not something I'm embarrassed or ashamed of, and if he's going to be, well best we all know now. In all fairness he's the one who brought up skeletons in the closet. I believe the term "Charged but never convicted" was used. So I figured it might be okay to bring up my presence in an art photography book... naked. Granted it was a second date, and maybe telling someone you've stripped down for art that early is like saying "I love you" too soon, but I took a chance.
On the surface it was well recieved... not even a cheap leer or request to see it. He said "Well, it's art." I thought it went over well. But it still wasn't easy to spit out. And later, as we walked along the street and ran into people he knew, I wonder if it began to sink in with him.
This girl is naked in a coffee table book. Some people here will probably see it. Maybe some
of them have seen it already.
It's like how the dream of dating a stripper or porn star is not quite the same when you realize that everyone has seen what you're seeing. Some people just can't handle it. Have you ever seen the look in a man's eyes when he meets someone his girl has slept with? It's this moment where he realizes that someone else has seen his prize.
Now it's the modern age, and few of us are naive enough to think that our partners have not been naked with other people. But the truth remains, we don't like to be reminded of it. No one likes the evidence staring them in the face.
Do I think I made a mistake? No. The photographer is extremely talented, the photo striking, and my dignity intact. Do I think it's something I might hold back a little while longer on the list of confessions? Maybe. At least until I think he's kinda hooked, so there's something at stake for him if he panics about it.
In the end, though, if he can't handle the truth, then it's best to know as early as possible.
I figured the best way to handle it, and the possible fall out was to hit it head on. After all, it's not something I'm embarrassed or ashamed of, and if he's going to be, well best we all know now. In all fairness he's the one who brought up skeletons in the closet. I believe the term "Charged but never convicted" was used. So I figured it might be okay to bring up my presence in an art photography book... naked. Granted it was a second date, and maybe telling someone you've stripped down for art that early is like saying "I love you" too soon, but I took a chance.
On the surface it was well recieved... not even a cheap leer or request to see it. He said "Well, it's art." I thought it went over well. But it still wasn't easy to spit out. And later, as we walked along the street and ran into people he knew, I wonder if it began to sink in with him.
This girl is naked in a coffee table book. Some people here will probably see it. Maybe some
of them have seen it already.
It's like how the dream of dating a stripper or porn star is not quite the same when you realize that everyone has seen what you're seeing. Some people just can't handle it. Have you ever seen the look in a man's eyes when he meets someone his girl has slept with? It's this moment where he realizes that someone else has seen his prize.
Now it's the modern age, and few of us are naive enough to think that our partners have not been naked with other people. But the truth remains, we don't like to be reminded of it. No one likes the evidence staring them in the face.
Do I think I made a mistake? No. The photographer is extremely talented, the photo striking, and my dignity intact. Do I think it's something I might hold back a little while longer on the list of confessions? Maybe. At least until I think he's kinda hooked, so there's something at stake for him if he panics about it.
In the end, though, if he can't handle the truth, then it's best to know as early as possible.
The Little Carnivore Takes Another Bite...
Throwing caution to the wind the Little Carnivore decided to meet the Quiet Vegetarian for a late evening drink. They had both spent the day with Sibling Offspring, and were ready to be civilized city dwellers having a couple drinks in the vibrant city scape. After a rain canceled motor cycle ride (more on whether Vegetarians should own motorcycles later), and a rain check on intimate scotch drinking (it was after all, a second date), a bar was chosen, and the Gastronomically challenged couple met.
Thankfully the Q.V. took the lead, conversationally speaking, much to the relief of a once again nervous Carnivore. Good conversation, and a couple Coronoas later, it was time to call it a night and begin the walk home. The Carnivore was relieved to find that he seemed to have every intention of walking her home. A very busy queen street and the Vegetarian's rather large acquaintance base seemed to have other plans. Every five feet it seemed they were stopped by someone who knew him. Brave faced, the Carnivore smiled and nodded her way through conversations that did, in the end, shed some small light on the man she was spending her time with. And to her relief she also ran into a friend that night, so she felt somewhat hip and cool.
Finally extricating themselves from the chatty hipsters, they continued on their way... as raindrops began to fall...
"I like when it rains on my way home" she said.
He smiled.
They walked.
They arrived at the Little Carnivore's home. She turned to him, expectantly, and smiled thinking:
Damn does that boy know how to kiss a girl goodnight... and the best part is it's totally respectful...no hands where they shouldn't be but in all the best ways....
like firm on my back, gently on my neck and wrapped in my hair...
and no drool... and perfect tongue... and tmi... but seriously... just for the kissing i'd go round three
And then he pulls away and puts his hands just there on her waist and says
"Sleep well"
And the Carnivore nods because she can't make words...
And then they're kissing again until he pulls away once more saying;
"Sleep well."
She nods again because words are slippery and she can't find them
L.C. gives him one quick kiss and walks away.
*sigh*
I'll just keep dating him I suspect
Until it all makes sense and I either love him or hate him.
Thankfully the Q.V. took the lead, conversationally speaking, much to the relief of a once again nervous Carnivore. Good conversation, and a couple Coronoas later, it was time to call it a night and begin the walk home. The Carnivore was relieved to find that he seemed to have every intention of walking her home. A very busy queen street and the Vegetarian's rather large acquaintance base seemed to have other plans. Every five feet it seemed they were stopped by someone who knew him. Brave faced, the Carnivore smiled and nodded her way through conversations that did, in the end, shed some small light on the man she was spending her time with. And to her relief she also ran into a friend that night, so she felt somewhat hip and cool.
Finally extricating themselves from the chatty hipsters, they continued on their way... as raindrops began to fall...
"I like when it rains on my way home" she said.
He smiled.
They walked.
They arrived at the Little Carnivore's home. She turned to him, expectantly, and smiled thinking:
Damn does that boy know how to kiss a girl goodnight... and the best part is it's totally respectful...no hands where they shouldn't be but in all the best ways....
like firm on my back, gently on my neck and wrapped in my hair...
and no drool... and perfect tongue... and tmi... but seriously... just for the kissing i'd go round three
And then he pulls away and puts his hands just there on her waist and says
"Sleep well"
And the Carnivore nods because she can't make words...
And then they're kissing again until he pulls away once more saying;
"Sleep well."
She nods again because words are slippery and she can't find them
L.C. gives him one quick kiss and walks away.
*sigh*
I'll just keep dating him I suspect
Until it all makes sense and I either love him or hate him.
Thursday, July 22, 2010
The Little Carnivore's Dillemma
There once was a little carnivore. She loved her burgers, steaks, duck, and venison. If it had a face she'd eat it! More often than she could count, this simple love of meat had won her points with meat loving men.
"I'm so glad you're not a vegetarian" they would say.
"I love that you'll eat a burger on a date" came the wondering praise.
Then one day, the unthinkable happened. The little carnivore went unsuspectingly on a seemingly harmless date. The man showed up, and he was handsome, even sexy, quiet and a little mysterious. The little carnivore grew nervous, and prattled, and chatted, and tried to impress this stranger who had beguiled her so.
I know, she thought, I'll tell him about the lovely meals I can cook... something meaty and tasty!
So the little carnivore began to describe a luscious pork tenderloin with mustard crust and roasted beets and carrots and... it didn't work! No ravenous look of hunger and lust, no approving mouth watering.
"Well, I don't eat meat," Said the man, "But I see how that could be delicious."
Oh No!
Could it be true?!
Had the little carnivore truly found herself in the most unusual of situations?
Yes, the little carnivore had found herself developing a crush on the illusive creature... the Male Vegetarian!
How could this happen? How could this go on?
The nervousness ramped itself up a notch and the babbling increased to a fever pitch until-
"You seem nervous," the quiet vegetarian said.
"Yes, I suppose I am," the nervous carnivore replied, blushing.
"But... Why?" he asked.
"I... don't know" she stammered.
At this, the quiet vegetarian reached across the table and took one of the little carnivore's small hands in both his and just held them... silently... still...
The nervous little meat eater began to panic. She giggled, she twitched, her leg began to thump rhythmically.
"You're trying to make me be quiet aren't you?" she accused.
He smiled.
"Maybe."
"It's a test?" she demanded
"No."
And he smiled again, still holding her hand still. The little carnivore bit her lip and sighed in defeat... giving in at last to the still and quiet man across from her.
"So, let's get out of here." he said, guiding her to the street from the restaurant patio.
And the walk was cathartic, the conversation lively and two sided, the night air fresh. They laughed and joked, and bumped against each other in their flirtatious gait. And at the little carnivore's doorstep they stopped.
"You walked me all the way home." she said, "That was very sweet of you."
The Quiet Vegetarian said nothing.
He simply leaned towards her and lightly, gently kissed her. His soft warm lips pressed to hers, she realized there could be a problem. She really could fancy this strange non meat eater. But as the kiss continued, teasing and enticing, she once again sighed. Not in defeat, but in surrender.
She would enjoy this vegetarian, she decided, at least until their dietary requirements inevitably drove them apart. But until then...
"I'm so glad you're not a vegetarian" they would say.
"I love that you'll eat a burger on a date" came the wondering praise.
Then one day, the unthinkable happened. The little carnivore went unsuspectingly on a seemingly harmless date. The man showed up, and he was handsome, even sexy, quiet and a little mysterious. The little carnivore grew nervous, and prattled, and chatted, and tried to impress this stranger who had beguiled her so.
I know, she thought, I'll tell him about the lovely meals I can cook... something meaty and tasty!
So the little carnivore began to describe a luscious pork tenderloin with mustard crust and roasted beets and carrots and... it didn't work! No ravenous look of hunger and lust, no approving mouth watering.
"Well, I don't eat meat," Said the man, "But I see how that could be delicious."
Oh No!
Could it be true?!
Had the little carnivore truly found herself in the most unusual of situations?
Yes, the little carnivore had found herself developing a crush on the illusive creature... the Male Vegetarian!
How could this happen? How could this go on?
The nervousness ramped itself up a notch and the babbling increased to a fever pitch until-
"You seem nervous," the quiet vegetarian said.
"Yes, I suppose I am," the nervous carnivore replied, blushing.
"But... Why?" he asked.
"I... don't know" she stammered.
At this, the quiet vegetarian reached across the table and took one of the little carnivore's small hands in both his and just held them... silently... still...
The nervous little meat eater began to panic. She giggled, she twitched, her leg began to thump rhythmically.
"You're trying to make me be quiet aren't you?" she accused.
He smiled.
"Maybe."
"It's a test?" she demanded
"No."
And he smiled again, still holding her hand still. The little carnivore bit her lip and sighed in defeat... giving in at last to the still and quiet man across from her.
"So, let's get out of here." he said, guiding her to the street from the restaurant patio.
And the walk was cathartic, the conversation lively and two sided, the night air fresh. They laughed and joked, and bumped against each other in their flirtatious gait. And at the little carnivore's doorstep they stopped.
"You walked me all the way home." she said, "That was very sweet of you."
The Quiet Vegetarian said nothing.
He simply leaned towards her and lightly, gently kissed her. His soft warm lips pressed to hers, she realized there could be a problem. She really could fancy this strange non meat eater. But as the kiss continued, teasing and enticing, she once again sighed. Not in defeat, but in surrender.
She would enjoy this vegetarian, she decided, at least until their dietary requirements inevitably drove them apart. But until then...
Saturday, July 10, 2010
There is a difference...
There is a difference between being broke and being cheap. Broke means that when you invite yourself to a girl's house to watch a DVD instead of taking her out, you bring an inexpensive bottle of wine. Being CHEAP means that after availing yourself of said woman's hospitality, you take the rest of your wine home with you!
Likewise there is a difference between being self confident and being an arrogant ass. Being self confident means you like yourself and you know what you have to offer others. Being an ARROGANT ASS means you feel the need to tell others, in detail, ad nauseum, exactly how much you like yourself, how much you have to offer, and what a great catch you are. It also means that you fail to notice that your repeated sexual innuendos are not welcome, that your sexual interest is not reciprocated, and that when you notice something amiss, it must be because the woman is "sexually timid" and/or a prude.
Gentlemen, please, note the differences!
There is a difference between being straightforward and honest and being blunt and negative. Being straightforward means that you don't lie, fabricate, falsify, gloss over, or sugar coat. Being straight forward in an online profile may read as follows:
"I'm a hardworking guy, who doesn't have a lot of time for a serious relationship."
Being blunt might sound like this:
"Ladies, I just want to get down. If you don't want to be physical then you shouldn't waste my time."
Honest, true, but both of those say essentially the same thing. One is polite. One is decidedly skeevy.
Being honest might go like this:
"If I send you a message, I would love a reply, even if it is to say thank you but not interested."
Negativity is more like:
"All the women here don't respond to emails. WHAT IS WITH THAT? RUDE OR WHAT? Just because I'm not some super rich jerk. All women want is money and gifts! "
I'll tell you one thing... if you start your conversation with me by saying how you have no faith in women, we're going to have a problem relating to each other, and I probably won't write you back since you've already YELLED AT ME (caps are a weapon people... unload your guns). Oh, and chances are that even though you're not super rich, you're likely still a jerk.
Come on people. Put your best foot forward. I won't lie, 95% of the dates I've had have been a let down... even the correspondence has been less than stellar. Some men don't reply. Maybe I'm not their type. Maybe they don't think I'm cute or funny or have great legs. Just because that's how they feel doesn't make them bad people, it just means I have to keep looking. The guy who told me "I'm bored with this conversation shit. Good luck out there" after 2 emails... maybe he wasn't the nicest person, but he blocked me so I'll never get to tell him to stuff it. Does that mean I'm going to put in my profile how if you don't want to email and you're just going to block me you're a jerky arsehole? Nope. My profile isn't about the jerks. It's about me. It's about how cute and funny I am, and about that one picture with the clearly visible great legs.
When I meet a guy I don't immediate inform him "guys tell me girls out there are bitches so I must be pretty awesome cuz I don't think I'm a bitch and I have all this other great stuff." I have a conversation. I ask questions and listen to answers, I answer his questions, I tell funny stories and inevitably do something clumsy and hope he finds it endearing, because I am honestly a klutz and better he know it now than later.
So why on earth would I want to sit across from a guy telling me what a great catch he is? (no, really he actually said "I'm a good catch".) Why would I want to listen to him make lecherous comments like "I like your legs, I wonder how far they would wrap around my waist."? Why would I be impressed by a guy who picked me up in his gym shorts and a stained t-shirt, parked using a handicapped sticker (that he no longer needs) so he didn't have to pay parking, let me buy my own $2 cup of tea and was too cheap to buy a coffee so drank stale water from a 2 gallon bottle while we sat in the park. If you need to tell me what a catch you are, chances are you aren't that much of a catch. Because I'm a good judge of character on my own. And that's the difference.
Likewise there is a difference between being self confident and being an arrogant ass. Being self confident means you like yourself and you know what you have to offer others. Being an ARROGANT ASS means you feel the need to tell others, in detail, ad nauseum, exactly how much you like yourself, how much you have to offer, and what a great catch you are. It also means that you fail to notice that your repeated sexual innuendos are not welcome, that your sexual interest is not reciprocated, and that when you notice something amiss, it must be because the woman is "sexually timid" and/or a prude.
Gentlemen, please, note the differences!
There is a difference between being straightforward and honest and being blunt and negative. Being straightforward means that you don't lie, fabricate, falsify, gloss over, or sugar coat. Being straight forward in an online profile may read as follows:
"I'm a hardworking guy, who doesn't have a lot of time for a serious relationship."
Being blunt might sound like this:
"Ladies, I just want to get down. If you don't want to be physical then you shouldn't waste my time."
Honest, true, but both of those say essentially the same thing. One is polite. One is decidedly skeevy.
Being honest might go like this:
"If I send you a message, I would love a reply, even if it is to say thank you but not interested."
Negativity is more like:
"All the women here don't respond to emails. WHAT IS WITH THAT? RUDE OR WHAT? Just because I'm not some super rich jerk. All women want is money and gifts! "
I'll tell you one thing... if you start your conversation with me by saying how you have no faith in women, we're going to have a problem relating to each other, and I probably won't write you back since you've already YELLED AT ME (caps are a weapon people... unload your guns). Oh, and chances are that even though you're not super rich, you're likely still a jerk.
Come on people. Put your best foot forward. I won't lie, 95% of the dates I've had have been a let down... even the correspondence has been less than stellar. Some men don't reply. Maybe I'm not their type. Maybe they don't think I'm cute or funny or have great legs. Just because that's how they feel doesn't make them bad people, it just means I have to keep looking. The guy who told me "I'm bored with this conversation shit. Good luck out there" after 2 emails... maybe he wasn't the nicest person, but he blocked me so I'll never get to tell him to stuff it. Does that mean I'm going to put in my profile how if you don't want to email and you're just going to block me you're a jerky arsehole? Nope. My profile isn't about the jerks. It's about me. It's about how cute and funny I am, and about that one picture with the clearly visible great legs.
When I meet a guy I don't immediate inform him "guys tell me girls out there are bitches so I must be pretty awesome cuz I don't think I'm a bitch and I have all this other great stuff." I have a conversation. I ask questions and listen to answers, I answer his questions, I tell funny stories and inevitably do something clumsy and hope he finds it endearing, because I am honestly a klutz and better he know it now than later.
So why on earth would I want to sit across from a guy telling me what a great catch he is? (no, really he actually said "I'm a good catch".) Why would I want to listen to him make lecherous comments like "I like your legs, I wonder how far they would wrap around my waist."? Why would I be impressed by a guy who picked me up in his gym shorts and a stained t-shirt, parked using a handicapped sticker (that he no longer needs) so he didn't have to pay parking, let me buy my own $2 cup of tea and was too cheap to buy a coffee so drank stale water from a 2 gallon bottle while we sat in the park. If you need to tell me what a catch you are, chances are you aren't that much of a catch. Because I'm a good judge of character on my own. And that's the difference.
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