Things I’m too Old for at 27: The Dating Edition…

1. Small Dicks

Size matters. Enough said. Sorry guys. I know you were hoping your ex-girlfriend meant it when she said “it’s not the size, it’s how you use it.” NOPE. You can know every maneuver in the Kama Sutra, but if you’re packing what I like to call a lip-stick dick…well all I can say is “I hope you can lick your eyebrows.”tumblr_mcs9ko39Bs1qeuthyo1_400

2. Faking the “O”

This is a pointless gesture that only serves as an ego booster. Guess what? You’re not doing anyone a favor…including yourself. If you can’t tell your partner what you like and how they can make you feel good…you need to do some serious self-assessment. Look at your life. Look at your choices…and then choose to cum. Over and Over.


3. Constant Break-Ups

“Hey are Jane and Dick coming out tonight?”

“No they broke up last week…again.”

“Are you kidding me? Again? That’s the third time this month.”

“Yeah I know their relationship is almost as unstable as my sobriety.”

 Man this one is annoying right? If you’re still doing the constant break-ups during/after every fight in your late 20s, I’d say it’s time for a look at your maturity level. A good argument can be healthy for a relationship…especially when it leads to the making up part. Fights happen So…..

                                                                Listen. Learn. Lick.


4. Lying

Why are people still lying at this age? Just tell the fucking truth and accept the consequences! Now I cannot be blamed if you choose to be stupid enough to tell your pregnant wife/girlfriend that yes she looks fat in that dress…I mean the big stuff: Cheating, Money, Relationship status etc. Just own your mistakes and take it like a grown-up. Because guess what…this is it. This is what we were wishing for when we were twelve and wanted to rule our own lives…seriously sucks sometimes doesn’t it?


5. The “Not Sure” Merry-Go-Round

Here’s a hint: If you’ve been dating someone for a month or two and you’re still “not sure,” how you feel about them, then chances are it’s because you’re “just not that into him/her” and you’re attempting to avoid the feeling of loneliness. Get over yourself. You’re wasting everyone’s time. Go find your balls and do the right thing. End the game before the other player signs that emotional contract binding them to heartbreak.


6. “Hanging Out”

What.The.Fuck. A guy asked me to “hang out” the other night and my response was “Oh are we going to build a fort too?” We are way past the age of “hanging out.” It’s either a date or a hook-up. Guys if you’re still asking a girl to “hang out” with you and you’ve been out of college for a couple years now…it’s time to man up. Make your intentions clear.

Example A: Hey gorgeous, we should go out on a date this Saturday…what do you say to dinner and a Red Box?

Example B: Hey sexy. Wanna stop by later?

                     Sincerely, My Dick.

This way your lady lover (or manly man) knows exactly what you’re looking for. No confusion=No stage four clingers.



7. Dating people without jobs.

We ALL come across hard times, so don’t get me wrong here, but if you’re going on three months without work, and you’re still hitting up the OKstupid account on a daily basis… I don’t have time for you. Your priorities need to change. After all, being in our 20s is all about creating ourselves and discovering how to stay balanced. So if I’m headed into my thirties pretty soon…you best believe I’m going to be looking for someone who’s just ambitious as I am …AND can drive himself to our dates.


8. The “Frat” Guy Syndrome

Here’s the thing…and maybe this makes me lameo but I don’t care… I would rather take my dog for a run and read a good book than go out to the same bar, to see the same faces, and talk about the same bullshit every Thursday, Friday, and Saturday night. I’m too old for the guys who are either still in Frat mode or have already created a routine rut. No matter how attractive these men are at 27, I always see this type of guy balding with a huge beer gut at age 46.

I'll Pass........

I’ll Pass……..

I’d rather find a nerd with a pension for weird hobbies any day of the week.

9. The Game Player

A friend told me the other day that a guy had texted her after their date, but she was going to wait to text him back until tomorrow afternoon.

Ummm what? ………

Is this still a thing? Are we still trying to seem “interested but not too interested?” …if I want to play a game it will be Monopoly (or Apples to Apples) NOT the “I want to appear cool with my apathetic response” game. If I don’t hear from a guy the next day…I take it as a sign he’s just not that interested. Don’t try to text me two or three days later to see how I’m doing…because guess what? I’ve probably moved on.

God I love this movie....

Totes McGoats!

10. Needy Ned

Now here’s the tricky part with not playing games. Sometimes people can come across as the “Needy Ned” or the “Clingy Cathy.” These people don’t appear to have much going on in their lives and they don’t quite seem to grasp the idea of taking things slowly. As you all know I tend to leap before I look when it comes to love, but I’m far from a Clingy Cathy. I need my personal time. I don’t want to hear from you all throughout the day, and I like to know that you have things that keep you busy too. I’m looking for my soulmate, my bestfriend, but if I’m the only thing you have going for you…yikes. That’s like driving your car after replacing your gasoline with Vodka….

Safety First....

Safety First….


P.S. I’m very curious. What are YOU too old for in Dating? If you’re a blogger leave your comments below and if you’re a Facebook reader feel free to leave them below the post on my page!

Uncomfortably Honest,



The Purpose of Pete

Don’t worry…last emotional post for a while. And anyway-get over it. You’re the one reading this nonsense.

Life is funny…and it can be good, bad, exciting, and blah all in the same week. I’ve always believed that EVERYTHING happens to us for a reason. Every person we meet, every relationship that forms in our lives was created for at least ONE purpose.

 But it’s hard to see the purpose of Pete.

 What do you do when you realize that the person you’ve been sending prayers of thanks up into the clouds for…isn’t real? Every word that ever came out of their mouth was a lie….Catfish Intro


Well I can only tell you what I did…I cried. A lot. I probably could have caused some type of tidal wave if I had been anywhere near an ocean. Kristyn was getting worried…and annoyed. My Catfish had possessed a powerful rip current, and I had been sucked underneath the water.



Yep. I had those embarrassing moments of tearing up at work because he had called me there to tell me goodnight too many times to count.


I cried in the shower. …because he had watched me shower. Yuck.


I cried folding my laundry…because he had watched me fold my laundry, and jokingly made fun of my complete lack of caring when it came to adult chores.


I cried in the car, almost every time I checked my email, and several times while listening to his old Skype messages. …I know…sickening right?



I was a disaster for the first week after I found out about my Catfish.


I felt utterly stupid, and confused, and hurt, embarrassed, heartbroken, violated, sickened, scared, pissed, and did I mention REALLY stupid??


I probably thought “why me?” enough times to make the Elephant Man roll over in his grave simply due to my COMPLETE sense of self-centeredness and vanity. My dramaticalness was at an all time high to say the least.



Just being honest…right?

 I think the idea of Fake Pete jarred me unlike anything ever has before because from the beginning he had made me promise “complete transparency” “no secrets,” and yet his entire existence was a secret. The real individual was completely hidden behind a fuzzy screen.

Was this suppose to be my sign?


Should I not be a lover of love? Should I stop getting lost in the idea of forever?…


Maybe I should resign my true belief in soulmates and become one of the majority.


Sometimes I forget that he isn’t real. And in those moments it’s easier to breathe.


Pretender Pete (AKA my ever elusive Catfish) gave me something invaluable. He gave me the right to be myself 100% of the time. This dating world gets so complicated sometimes and when we begin to realize that this new individual in our lives is responding positively to one part of us…we tend to stop there remaining just one dimensional. We would rather they see only the parts that they know and are comfortable with…instead of risking rejection and showing all of our cards. But Pete accepted all of me. He took everything I offered and lied about how he loved it. Or maybe he did love it…whoever he was.


Or maybe this is all just a bunch of bologna and I’m talking out my ass again…


Who knows really?…my right may be someone else’s wrong.


But what I know, or at least what I can remember, is Pete gave me a feeling that I will always cherish and will search for in order to find someone REAL who offers it. Acceptance. Acceptance on the good days, the bad days, the boring ones, as well as the days when I feel like driving 90 mph down the back country roads just because I need to let loose. He never wanted to change me…he found me perfect just the way I was.

Even more than acceptance, he just “got me.” Isn’t that the best feeling?…when someone just “gets” you and of course vise versa. Pete was the first person I’ve ever experienced this with. It was splendid.

He changed everything I thought I wanted for myself but in a good way. Fake Pete gave me a feeling of no limitations. He made me want to be a better person. I want to work harder, conquer my fears, and do everything possible in order to live my life to the absolute fullest. I can get my PhD AND have a family. I can still travel, AND build a life where I want to. I can create anything I can imagine. He gave me that feeling and then suddenly…he disappeared.

 I can almost hear his voice now…

“Never settle Cakes, because you fucking deserve everything.”


Abso-fuckin-lutely I do Buddy! I have to keep telling myself my person IS out there. He must be right? But if an imposter can seem so real but turn out to be 100% fake does this mean what I’m longing for doesn’t exist? So many questions, and no Fake Pete to help me figure out the answers. So here I am …on my own again, a little bit different than before.

 …Maybe I DO see the Purpose of Pete. (In all likely hood that probably isn’t even his name…Jesus).











Hook, Line, and Sink-HER

**Disclaimer: This is a tragically true story told from a very honest point of view. This is a story too difficult for Jessica to tell, so you get to hear it secondhand.***

 If you don’t remember me (Kristyn, JBlondie’s personal version of Oprah) you can read my first guest post here. Gandhi’s Perspective

There’s nothing worse than seeing your best friend drowning in a pool of her own tears (especially when you are someone who is not good at consoling people). I have an immense amount of empathy, but when it comes to consoling, I’m not the one you want next to you. So, when I had the displeasure of telling my best friend that the man she thought she was going to marry (we’ll get to that later) wasn’t real, I didn’t know what to do.

I’ll start from the beginning…

If you’ve read JBlondie’s blogs you know that if there is one way to describe her when it comes to love, it is that she falls hard and fast. So, when I left her for 6 days to go on vacation and she was dating one guy (who we both knew she was just biding her time with), but arrived home to find her truly smitten with a completely different guy, I really wasn’t shocked… but at the same time, I just don’t get it.

The man she had fallen “in love“ with seemed to like the same strange things she liked (i.e. sloths, fat babies, Vespas etc.). They seemed to have the exact same sense of humor, and he just “got her,” (which not many people do, let’s be honest). From what I could tell, he appreciated and truly cared for the chaotic, random world that is Jessica. To her, this seemed like her prayers had been answered… but to me (the perpetual skeptic) Peter James Turner seemed too good to be true. So, my obvious question was, what’s the catch…?

Well, Pete was in the National Guard deployed in Afghanistan, and he wouldn’t return until October. The only way Jessica could talk to him was via video chat, but Pete’s computer camera broke right when they began talking. So, he could see her, but she had to talk to a fuzzy, very difficult to make out a face, screen. Jessica did seem frustrated at times with not being able to see Pete, but he sent her plenty of pictures, so that (and the sound of his voice) is what she concentrated on.

Jessica talked nonstop to Pete for HOURS on one-sided video and the second they ended their video chats, they would be emailing each other (I’m talking 2-page single spaced emails). I think they talked more to each other in 4 months than I have ever talked to anyone, including my own mother. The strange, random things that they talked about made me wish that Pete was everything he said he was and everything Jessica believed him to be. But, unlike Jessica, I just couldn’t believe someone that I had never met.

I kept most of my negative thoughts to myself because I knew Jessica would just stop telling me about Pete if I wasn’t supportive, but when she started talking seriously about eloping when she picked him up at the airport in Georgia after he arrived home from Afghanistan… I told her I refused to be a part of that insanity. So, as I began to get more worried about her judgment, she began to hold up in her room and forget the rest of the world. Her world was Pete and she didn’t need anything else but her dreams for the future and his voice.

After talking for 2 months, Pete sent Jessica a package in the mail. The package had a return address in Saginaw, Michigan, which was where Pete said he was from. He said that he had sent it to his sister first so she could wrap Jessica’s gifts, which explained the Michigan address (hmm).

However, she was never allowed to send Pete a package. He claimed that his friend died in his arms during his first deployment and every time he received mail it brought him back to the day his friend had been shot. I even tried to get Pete’s “friend” to give me the address, so I could send him cookies (there is not a single person in the army that would refuse homemade cookies). But after his “friend” wouldn’t send the address either, I started to get really suspicious.

Of course the package had the opposite effect on Jessica. It just pulled her deeper into the “World of Pete.” When I did see her, she was always smiling, and she carried her computer around like it was a person. She was the happiest I had ever seen her, which was so refreshing. My best friend was convinced she had found her person and deep down I wanted her to be right. I mean, who wouldn’t want to see their best friend deliriously happy? But in my experience… all good things come to an end and when something is too good to be true, it probably is.

And Unfortunately, I was right.

I was sitting by the pool one Saturday morning when I received a text from Jessica. Apparently my coworker had asked Jess about a picture she had posted on Facebook of Pete. My coworker said Pete’s face looked identical to someone her daughter knew. Jessica obviously told her it was a coincidence and to leave her alone. But when my coworker gave me the name of the person she was thinking of and I started doing a little research, the truth came out.

I never have and never will know how to break devastating news to anyone, especially someone close to me. So, I did what I thought would be the best way for Jessica to find out that the man she had been sharing every detail about her life and who she thought she was going to marry was a complete liar… I emailed her. I thought, if it were me, I would NOT want someone with me when I discovered this truth. So, I sent her a profile link of the man whose pictures Pete had stolen (there were 64 pictures in all). I gave her an hour to process everything, which was when I came home to Jessica in the middle of a panic attack.

I worked with her for hours trying to figure out the truth, even though I had already tried to figure everything out on my own. There just wasn’t enough evidence, we had never seen his face clearly or knew his real name. The only thing we knew for sure is that he lives either in or somewhere very close to Saginaw, MI. After Jessica confronted Fake Pete, he refused to talk to her on the Skype, but claimed everything was true except his name and pictures. He also still claimed to be in Afghanistan, which was the worst lie of all.

After about an hour of Jessica begging him for answers, he disappeared. His email was gone, his Facebook was gone and all the other emails of people he was also pretending to be were also gone. He was actually pretending to be “Pete,” his “sister,” his best friend in the army and a gay guy that he said was in the army with him. So, he was playing the role of 5 COMPLETELY different people and changing his sentence structures and grammar to make it seem like he was someone different. He made up so many elaborate stories about the military and promotions that he received, stories of how sad he was and how alone he felt… I hope that you are out there reading this, Fake Pete, and you get the help you need.

Two days after he disappeared, he emailed Jessica from a different email address and told her the “real story.” He gave her his “real” name and told her where he lived and worked. He said he was in the process of getting kicked out of the military because he was suffering from severe PTSD and was going to a psych hospital to get help. At first, Jessica believed what he was saying because to her that made sense. She desperately wanted to trust the man she had given her heart to.

However, she at least learned from the situation and decided to check his facts…

After a 30 minute conversation with the parents of the man he claimed to be, she found out everything he said the second time was ALSO an elaborate lie. Once she confronted him about it, he disappeared again, and never returned. The kicker came 2 days later… He had ordered Jessica’s “wedding dress” that they picked out together, and it must have been shipped before she found out he was a liar. The irony.

We tried finding out who he really was based on some other information we knew, but nothing ever led anywhere. I wish we could have found out who he was not only so Jessica could have closure, but also so I don’t have to continuously be afraid he’s going to come kidnap or murder us one day. Most importantly though, probably the reason I agreed to write this post for Jessica, is to create awareness. If this can happen to an intelligent, successful woman who is just simply looking for love, it can happen to you.

 I don’t know what Fake Pete’s real name is (but he knows mine).


I don’t know who he is or where he lives (but he knows what I look like and where I live).


I don’t know why anyone would think that it was acceptable behavior to Catfish someone (it’s not OK).


I don’t know if Jessica will ever be able to let “Pete” go.


I don’t know if Jessica will ever be the same.


But, here’s what I do know…


I know that a man who pretended to be someone else ruined my best friend’s life in 4 months. He made her feel safe and comfortable, while he lied to her every day.


I know that no one should have to experience this situation.


I know that my best friend isn’t the same person she was 4 months ago (and may never be the same again).


And most importantly, I know that people can’t be trusted (and I hope Jess figured that out as well).


The repercussions of what that man (or woman) did to Jessica are going to forever affect her and the choices she makes in life.


Jessica is a firm believer that everything happens for a reason. I hope she still believes that because it may be the only thing that gets her through this situation.


Amber Alert: Teach Disappears….

Since I was fifteen minutes late to the first date I decided to show up as early as possible to the second. Needless to say I was only about four minutes ahead of schedule.

I decided to just walk in and wait for him but as I looked down at my phone to check the time I realized I had missed a text letting me know he was there.

Teach looked even more adorable tonight than he had for our first meet up. His green sweater made his eyes pop, and the confidence he showed through his walk and initial smile was highly attractive.

I had taken the initiative (since he had for our first date) and decided I was going to take him ice-skating. He had never been before so I felt like this would be something fun for the both of us. Also, how can you live in the Chicago area and NOT have ever been ice-skating before? …seriously.

As I paid for our skates and time around the rink I could tell he was a little taken a back. Men always act a little weird the first time I pay for something. I’ve never understood that. He had paid for our entire first date. Do most women really expect you to pay for everything on the second too? I shrugged off his surprised response and away we went.

“No wonder it’s taking you so long…” Teach commented as I struggled to tie up my laces.

…”look at those Kielbasa fingers!” He grinned.

Oh.My.God. He had just called my fingers fat….his originality was amazing.


As I doubled over laughing from his complete disregard for caring what I thought, I realized I had just passed an important test of his. A girl who can’t laugh at herself is no fun at all.

We got onto the ice and I realized I had not been ice-skating in about five years…and hadn’t been really good at it back then. Teach took the baby step route and I went for the more daring approach of holding on to the sides of rink.

We were both on the struggle bus, and per usual I was the one driving.

After about fifteen minutes of skating I was over it. In between falling on my ass and his tiny two-inch forward movements, we were working way too hard to carry on a conversation.

He had told me some funny quips from that day about his students, and I had asked some family related questions to get a little more insight into Teach. But just like the first date, our conversation seemed forced. For some reason I was having a hard time being myself around him. …and I detest that feeling.

Nothing seemed to be flowing naturally. So when I suggested we give up the aspiration of becoming gold medalists in figure skating I was surprised to hear Teach protest telling me he wanted more time on the ice with me.

I was getting mixed signals…and I’ve never been good at following directions in the first place.

After skating ended we headed for dinner and drinks. Conversation got better over dinner and I was beginning to feel a little more relaxed, (probably due to my Jack and Diet) but similar to the first date, our second date seemed to be lasting too long. Why was I always in a hurry around him? If you’re really into someone shouldn’t you have that “can’t get enough,” feeling?

As we stood by my car that night I was hoping for a second kiss. While I was still unsure of how I felt about Teach I DEFINITELY knew that I liked kissing him. So when he came in for a hug rather than a lip-lock I was a little relieved but also a tad bit disappointed.

This was an obvious sign that Teach and I were on the same wavelengths when it came to how we felt about each other right? He knew there wasn’t much chemistry. He had felt the same awkwardness I had, and he was being the adult in the situation by not wasting anyone’s time.

Now here’s the thing…I don’t beat around the bush. If I don’t like you…you’re gonna know it. If I’m unsure…we’ll probably discuss it, and you best believe if I’m into you I’m going to say it. We’re all too old to be hiding how we feel, and playing the same “Do you like me check Yes or No” game like we did at age ten.

So when I arrived home I texted Teach to confirm that we were both on the same page with everything.

JBlondie: So with no kiss I’m gonna take that as a nice to meet you but this isn’t for me kind of a thing?

Teach: No way! I was unsure of what you wanted.

JBlondie: Well I’m pretty sure a hug is taking things backwards from the first date kiss ending soo….

 Teach: Well little miss you are wrong.

Huh. I was wrong. Maybe he had felt more for me then I had for him. HOWEVER, the next night when I hadn’t heard anything from him all day I began to get even MORE confused. We usually texted at least very briefly everyday since knowing each other so not hearing from him made me think that I WAS right.Teach just was NOT that into me. I was perfectly ok with that idea, but then why did he respond that way the night before?   …and I thought women were suppose to be the confusing ones…

After not hearing from him for two days I sent him a casual “how are you?” text while at work one night. I wanted an answer damnit. However I was super surprised by his response!

Teach: I’m a responder. If you text me I’m going to text back. And I’ll always be upfront about how I feel.

 JBlondie: Well how about getting together this week sometime? (What was I doing?…I was wasting both of our time…Teach was not my soulmate)

Teach: For sure. Name the time and place and I’ll be there.

The next day I sent Teach a quick text giving him my schedule for the week …

He never responded.

I sent a Hump-Day text a couple days later.

He never responded…

The next day as Kristyn and I were drinking on the couch I sent him a smartass text which read …

JBlondie: …your overwhelming responses are too much for me.

Teach had disappeared. And he was NOT upfront as he had claimed to be. It was all a very confusing ending…to a pointless set of questions because I knew he wasn’t it for me. All in all my dating experience with Teach was an awkward bouncy ball; entertaining for a little bit but not something you’d ever find yourself invested in.

Side Note: Teach if you’re out there just know that Kristyn and I miss your One-liners like WHOA! We need more Motivational Mondays in our lives and we’re pretty sure you could be the “Jack” to our “Janet and Chrissy” scenario. :)

P.S. Stay tuned for next week’s addition…JBlondie almost drowns from being pulled under the sea.






This Weekend Forecast: Mostly Drunk With A Chance Of Horny


A Gift written by MY favorite Blogger from YOUR favorite Blogger. Enjoy Friends…and HAPPY 4TH!

Originally posted on snarkysnatch:

crinoline blog foundingI don’t vomit from drinking. I vomit when I think about my life.  You would think that with my history of self medicating that by now a bottle of vodka would run out to my car at hearing my car horn.   So must find solace in the simple pleasures of life.  Like the fact that our Founding Fathers whacked off enough Brits so we could get an extra day off to get drunk and eat hot dogs.

Happy Independence Day America!!  A day we come together as one to proudly wave our American flags that were made in China. 

july 4th fuck yeah

As one that embraces the American spirit, I think everyone should dive into this Independence Day festivities and get stuffed and snockered.  The way I see it, if we don’t celebrate Independence Day, how will the grocery stores know when to put out the school supplies?  So keeping that theme…

View original 2,768 more words

Chemistry 101 #Teach

Monday, February 10 2014…..

Teach: How are you?

JBlondie: Pretty good-how about you?

Teach: It’s Motivational Monday! I’ve been getting after it hard since 4:30 AM. #BOOM!

JBlondie: Lol wowza…I’m impressed Teach

Teach: So what have you been up to?

JBlondie: haha ummmm…well I just woke up and it’s 11:47 am so …

Teach: man! someone is lame saucin’ it today!

JBlondie: haha yeah pretty much…I had to work this weekend though unlike SOME people. You know not EVERYONE gets summers and winter vacations for weeks on end

Teach: Obvi…because most people aren’t a bowl of awesome sauce like I am. #noexcuses

JBlondie: …you’re something alright.

I don’t ever remember my 4th grade teacher being THIS hilarious. Teach could make anything interesting. His stories were never ending and even before I met him in person he had made my stomach muscles ache from laughter. Kristyn (who was now invested in helping me to erase psychopath from my memory) and myself were excited from the very beginning. This was an entirely different “type” for me. Through phone calls and text messages Teach seemed like a ball of energy that was up for anything as long as it wasn’t boring. The first picture he sent me of himself was in a giant sombrero and a wife beater…enough said.

I pulled up to the restaurant the evening of our first meet up, and was feeling confident that this was going to be a fun date. Especially since I had just received this text message….

Teach: It’s going down. #Timber #getexcited

Teach had suggested an organic pizza place half way between each other as he lived relatively far away, which I thought was pretty diplomatic and yet not overly eager. He had told me that I was only his second date meeting someone from online and his first experience had not been so grand apparently.

“She pretty much lied. She said she was bubbly and happy which appeared true over text messages but I get to the date and she like won’t talk.” He had told me one night over the phone. “Plus she was like a Chubby Chelsea…plus 30 lbs…” (This will be a new experience, a date with a douchebag).

I figured that I was the same over texting as I was in person and I had been completely, 100% honest with how I presented myself in pictures…as I had been burned before and would never want anyone I met to experience that feeling! …so I wasn’t particularly worried.

I sent a final prayer up into the heavens as I walked through the doors in my maroon cosmopolitan heels. “Dear God, Please don’t let this man be a serial killer.”

He was shorter than I had expected, but adorable. His glasses made him look younger than 27 and his gorgeous teeth made me want to stare at his mouth inappropriately.

I could tell he was nervous upon our first hello so I gave him a hug and immediately started asking questions…per my usual.

I’m always curious as to a date’s first thoughts when they see me. It’s rare to find a man in his 20’s who tells you what they’re thinking right off the bat. Instead they’re usually fidgety and unsure of themselves at first. The insights and compliments come later after you laugh at some of their jokes. However I was particularly curious with what Teach was thinking given his openness regarding his first online misfortune…

After Teach had told me some of his infamous student stories and we finished our pizza I was ready to move on to our bowling plans, but he seemed to want to just sit and chat. I’ve never been one to spend hours in restaurants but when he made a comment about how antsy I seemed I began to feel a little insecure. I liked talking with him…I just couldn’t sit still any longer.

A little while later witty banter bounced back and forth between us, and my attempt at schooling him in the art of bowling failed miserably. After we finished our third game we were both ready to leave. Teach was sweating up a storm (which I found hilariously cute) and I was feeling “put on the spot.” Through my dating experience I had come to realize that if I can’t be myself or feel “stressed,” things just are not going to work out.

As we stood by my car I could tell he didn’t want the night to end, but I also got the feeling this seemed more of a “hang out” for him than a date.

“So what’s next?” He asked me.

“I don’t know…what do you feel like doing?” I was puzzled…

“Well I’m not you’re little monkey. I’m not just gonna sing and dance for you all night long. You tell me.” He retorted.

Wait a minute….what? Teach had confirmed what I had been feeling all night. I had felt as though I was almost on stage with him. That feeling of “performing” had been present all during dinner as well as bowling and he had just given me my first clue I was failing his test. But then why was he keeping the evening going…?

We moved on to a cute little brewery nearby and about the time Teach began replying to text messages from a coworker (my pet peeve on first dates), I realized the date was going on six hours. As Kristyn, my personal version of Dr. Phil had once said, “First dates are a hi, hello, how are you, not a chance to swap life stories.” I knew it was time to head home. I had gotten to know enough about Teach and although I loved his company, I also knew this wasn’t a right fit. I would never be able to feel relaxed with him in fear of scrutiny. I was way too much of a dork for him, and the mesh feeling just wasn’t right. He was the Energizer Bunny and I was the go-with-the-flow hippy. He thrived on storytelling whereas I liked discussions with back and forth.

As we stood by my car that night I wanted him to kiss me. I wanted to be wrong about Teach. He was cute, emotionally stable, hilarious, and was passionate about his job.

I could tell he was unsure of what I wanted so I took the first step forward and he leaned in.

I’m not exaggerating when I tell you that Teach’s kiss …while there was absolutely NOT A DROP of chemistry…was Phenomenal! Even without butterflies he still ranks in my top three kisses of all time.

…probably the only reason I agreed to a second date.




I ALWAYS Have Time for a Quickie

The Close Call

     I had never seen so much camouflage in my life. His living room chair, all of the lamp shades, his toilet seat cover, and yes even his bed spread was camo. He had topped off his small studio apartment with two large deer heads plastered to the walls and two stuffed mallard duck trophies. It was quite the spectacle. The man had obviously not attended school for interior design…but perhaps more importantly he enjoyed the hunt, and was good at it. Dan had told me over dinner that once in a while he liked to go out with his best buddy…to the woods…all-alone…and kill animals (but I had no idea he was obsessed until that moment). I’ve never been a huge fan of the sport myself because let’s face it…most of us are STILL screwed up over Bambi’s mother being shot. But who was I to hold this man’s passions or hobbies against him?



However, as we began making out…I started to ponder…

       Given that I had only known him for about three weeks, all of this was making me nervous. If he enjoyed hunting so much he clearly knew how to shoot a gun and had no repulsion for blood or guts. His burly demeanor made him blend into the crowd, and the fact that he hadn’t been that open about himself or his background was making my palms begin to sweat. Are we noticing an irrational theme here? More importantly, he had been telling me constantly “all women are the same,” “they all just want us for free meals,” “all women are users.” …So…he also HATED and highly distrusted the female gender. Hmmmmmmmm. Red lights started flashing (I know, finally right?!). I mean…this man was OBVIOUSLY on the path to being a serial killer. Did I really want to stick around for camouflage PJ’s, and a possible skinning after he gutted my corpse? Nah. I was good.

I quickly said I was late for meeting up with my friend, apologized, and ran back to my car. As I locked my compact door I sent up a quick prayer to the heavens, “Dear God, please don’t allow that man to stalk me on my way home.” It all worked out in the end. I let him down gently and he called me a ‘fucking slut ass cunt.’ I know…quite the gentleman right? It would’ve never worked though…I’m more of an herbivore.

Me Vs. The Bitch

I am a firm believer that everyone (well at least most people) deserves a second chance. So after a few months, some random text messages, and some HORRIBLE first dates, I decided to give the “Ear Licker,” another shot.


I jokingly confronted his tendency to molest my ear with his oral appendage, and he responded to my criticism with a few witty quips of his own. We had a few dinners, a movie here and there, and I was beginning to think that while there still wasn’t much chemistry, I had written Drew off too soon. You never know right? His kissing needed work, but his passion made up for it …or at least I thought.

Everything was actually going great, until I met his other Bitch.

Spoiler Alert: He chose the bitch over me…and by bitch…I mean his female dog. Yes, an actual 5lb dog.

One night before work he had asked me to stop over and say hi before I went into the office. I knew he wasn’t interested in sex because I had already attempted SEVERAL times to initiate the dirty deed, but he had refused my advances so far. So I figured this was simply a quick hi, hello, how are you situation and then I’d be off.

However Drew had different plans. He started kissing me in his bedroom and I could feel his heart beat begin to race with my palm against his chest.

We laid down on the bed….and “Ruff! Ruff! Ruff!” His teacup Chihuahua was going nuts! She did not like me on his bed, and she certainly did not like my on his lips. Now I have a dog of my own, I love those mangy mutts. …But I’ll tell you something…this dog looked me in the eye that night and I saw evil for the first time.


Before I realized what was happening Drew stopped kissing me, and picked up the growling, barring teeth pup. He started laughing and talking to her with baby speak. It was cute how he adored her…but then it got weird. He laid her back on the bed and once again started kissing me. Her barking got louder, and louder, the growling more intense…and rather than ignoring her or setting her outside of the room, he picked her up again. He repeated these steps AT LEAST five more times with baby speak on each occasion. Not only had a 5lb dog made me question my attractiveness, but now I was worried about my own kissing abilities. “Shit! Am I an awful kisser?” My brain was racing.

The turning point was the last time he picked her up and she began to lick his lips without him turning his head. He accepted her mouth kisses and began to beam with a smile that stretched ear to ear. Indeed, Drew and I weren’t supposed to happen. He had just chosen to kiss his dog instead of me. As we said goodbye that night standing at my car and talking about his sweet spawn of Satan, I wondered if I would have to push his dog slobber lips away before they reached mine. Alas, he didn’t even try. He either A. knew that would be unacceptable or B. wasn’t truly interested in the blonde standing before him.

I took that night as a sign and ended things about a week later. I also googled “how to be a better kisser.” There’s always room for improvement. It’s ok…I judge me too.