Month: February 2014

I want a best friend not a boyfriend!

Can someone please tell me why finding a good friend is harder than finding a good man?!  I am not talking about facebook friends and twitter followers; I am talking about living breathing people who you interact with.

In your 30s people enter your life, through work, other friends, and relationships, but actual close friends those are in shorter supply.  As people approach “adult life,” priorities change and people often become pickier in what they want in their friends.  It gets increasingly harder to meet the three required Cs of friendship—closeness, convenience, and comfort.  This is why so many people meet their lifelong friends in college, and I’m left still searching.

Let’s face it, most people my age are “set in their friend ways,” so why would they be willing take on new friends they have to get to know? People become more wary about making themselves emotionally available to new people, friend or otherwise.  I thought back to the advice I constantly hear while trying to find a man: get involved, do things you love, don’t sit around, go out and meet people. So I did in hopes of finding a good friend, but none of this is working!  Like my failed attempts at trying to find a good man, I am failing at trying to find a good friend.

For example…I was shopping and a potential friend-worthy fellow shopper asked me about my handbag (love connection!).  We chatted for a moment about the bag when I noticed her handbag.  It was quilted.  It was expensive.  It was a-mazing.  Naturally, I told her I loved it, from one handbag lover to another.  If the friendship thing did not work out, I could steal her bag, right… That is when my fantasies took over.  I started to place her in my life like I do with potential love interests.   I imagined us meeting up for coffee, going out to dinner, her fixing me up with her cute older brother, sharing clothes, and becoming besties.  Before you sound the psycho alarm, I snapped out of it and started to panic.  I didn’t want her to think I was a lesbian trying to hit on her, nor did I want to appear like a loser with no friends (am I?!).  I ended it before it began, without an email exchange or hope for future meetings.  I couldn’t help but think it would be so much easier if she was a romantic interest.   At least with a romantic interest there’s flirting, chemistry and sex.  And, maybe even the added benefit of making friends with or through them.

People will say that at my age finding a mate is more important than another friend, but boyfriends come and go and friends are forever, right?!

Revenge of Mr. Panda

I thought I had heard the last of Mr. Panda Bear, but a random Thursday rolled around and I got a very odd text from him.  Mr. Panda Bear:  Do you have you tube on your iphone or ipad?  Look up-College Humor How Texting Mind Games Will Ruin Your Life.

I watched the video and rage set in!  I texted my best friend immediately.

Me: watch this video

BF: Wow! That’s pretty funny.  Where did you get that?

Me: Mr. Panda Bear sent to me.

BF: Are kidding me?!  Who does he think he is?! What is he trying to say?!  He is telling you off with a video?!

BF: Let’s send him a video of you dumping him and telling him never to contact you again!

I have included the infamous video for your viewing pleasure:

Mr. Panda Bear Part 2

So I have a rule, everyone should have a two date minimum.  Give them the benefit of the doubt, maybe they were nervous, and go out for a second time.  That being said, I had to relive the Mr. Panda nightmare all over again.  Damn it!

I avoided Mr. Panda’s Thursday only texts for two weeks.  Yes, you read that correctly, he would only text on a Thursday.  Lucky for me it was the holidays, so I this awkward hiatus was acceptable.  I finally gave into his request for a second date; he wanted to take me to a fancy restaurant for dinner.  The thought of reliving a meal with this man made me panic.  I suggested we go to the movies instead and even allowed him to pick.  We, I should say I, settled on a place and time….

Before I ventured into this experience, I decided to play it differently.  I would be assertive and speak my mind about the things that bothered me while we were together.  I was tired of being nice and not getting what I needed.   Maybe it was me and not him… fat chance.

Dooms day arrived.   He showed up before me once again, this time I told him he needed to meet me outside.  He was not a happy panda…. When we met, the line had grown long for the movie and was blocking the entrance.  He said we could go in ahead of the line since we had tickets.  When I tried to walk in, there was a large man blocking my path, I turned to Panda giving him the look …. “be a strong, brave man and get this dude out of the way..”  He was not getting it… I said, “Panda there is a big man blocking our way.”  Charming response from the panda: “Aren’t you going to do something about it?”  “Get him to move.”  Me?!  I’m sorry, who has the penis here?

As I counted down from 10 and got us seats, he loudly (what happened to his dainty whisper voice) declares that he likes when I tell him what to do.  He likes bossy women and really enjoys when they control him…. Wow!  I casually, for fear of killing one of us, let it go and try to keep the conversation light—bamboo, the climate in China, his black and white markings…  I think I am in the clear with this conversation when he blurts out, “By the way, I spoke to friend you have had since the fifth grade, and he told me all about you.  He told me everything since you were like 10.”  Hmmmm… who should I be more mad at, old friend or Mr. Panda?!  Why is he telling everyone in a 10 mile radius about us?  Why is he actually sharing with me that he is a gossip queen? Grrr….

Ah but my cosmic revenge would come… Mr. Panda was so uncomfortable with all the sex and drugs in the movie we were watching, I thought he might melt into a puddle.  This gave me slight satisfaction, as he picked the movie and laughed at my suggested choice.  The date ended with my body language screaming: if you even try to touch me, kiss me, or breathe near me, I will kill you.”  After another horrible experience, I wrote off Mr. Panda.  We were definitely not going to have a little Bao Bao anytime soon.

He got the hint, or so I thought.  Consistently on Thursdays for the next two weeks I received texts from Mr. Panda asking me out, even though all signs pointed to hell no.   I, being a puss, ignored the texts instead of being straight forward.  I think I did this because I did not want any repercussions for my mom. At least that’s what I told myself; so much for being assertive.

The lesson in all this… screw the rules if you can’t stand the guy.  Stop making others happy when it makes you unhappy.

Mr. Panda Bear

What do you think of when you picture a panda bear–short in size, furry, slow moving, gentle, stubby arms maybe?  My next date had all of those qualities and some personality flaws to boot.

My mom, bless her heart, tried to fix me up with Mr. Panda Bear.  She had great intentions as he was marvelous sounding on paper.  He was the perfect age, mid 30s.  He had a great job and lived by himself (roommates after a certain age don’t thrill me).  He was single with no kids.  He had nice siblings (I definitely did not have that last time).  All excellent starting points in my opinion, and to be honest after the mess I had just left, anyone was a prize.  She did warn me that he had some faults, he was short, no biggie so am I;  he didn’t like to text, I figured I could break that habit, and he was painfully shy, hmmm that’s a tough one.  I decided to go for it, told her to give him my number and shoot me text (trying to break the no texting thing right off the bat).

And so it began…. Mr. Panda sent one text: Hello, Drama Queen this is Mr. Panda.  I got your number from your mom.  I would like to meet.   I will text at a later time to make plans.  Bye.

My response:  Great Mr. Panda!  Tick tock a week passes…. Me again: Happy Thanksgiving Mr. Panda, talk to you soon….

Nothing in response for another week…?….  Hmm… ok I will give him a free pass with the holidays and him being “painfully shy” and all.  Another brief text followed shortly after the week passed; I will spare you the details.  We made plans to meet at a local restaurant for day drinks/lunch combo…

Mr. Panda had arrived before me.  He was already inside and texted (!) to let me know that.  I told him I was not sure who he was and would feel more comfortable if he met me outside.  He did not answer (ugh, bad sign), so I bit the bullet and went in.  He was the only guy sitting at the bar; to say I was disappointed is being kind.  He looked nothing like his photo and his lack luster personality hit me like the scent of Axe spray wafting off a middle school boy.  Besides the overall look, I could tell our personalities might not be a match.  I am very attracted to assertive men, manly men, and he was the polar opposite.  He whispered when he talked, couldn’t make decisions, and did not make eye contact—at all.  I chalked it up to him being nervous and gave him the benefit of the doubt.

I do not want to relive this awkward experience, so I will give you the highlights of the date…

-Told me he was fat, did not eat his lunch and watched me eat mine making me so uncomfortable

-Did not ask any questions, so I had to control the conversation.  It is so hard to have a one sided conversation, even for a big mouth like me.

-Brought up any and every person we may know if common, so he could them questions about me later (Hello!? You have me here, just ask me and make this date less strenuous for me!)

-Told me that I would meet his stepmother, whom everyone hated, and that the family would vote me to talk to her at family functions…. (Not even going to touch that one)

-Told me his family had a game… they like to see who can get the most wasted at events.  Maybe he should do that now and we would have a little fun.

-Paid the bill, had my unfinished food taken away, and his coat on all while I went to pee.  I was gone roughly six and a half minutes.  This made me this most mad—I was really enjoying my salad and wanted to keep eating.

So did I run for the hills? Did I stop talking to him and change my number? Did I kill my mother?

To be continued…

A Picture is Worth….NOTHING

Everyone knows that a good picture is important to online dating. As shallow as I may sound, I look first read later. Come on, you do it too!  That being said, you would assume that I have a great photo-not so much.  I have a few photos my dad took from a wedding when I had a professional do my hair.  Although I look decent, what blows me out of the water are some of the photos by GUYS not the other girls…

The glamour shot. How do some of these guys afford these professional, borderline headshots, when I can’t afford regular blow outs at a blow dry bar?  There is the black & white shot, the sun setting shot, the sexy eyes shot…. These guys are styled and posed to perfection.  Do they look like this in real life? If so, can you imagine the competition for outfit compliments?! No, no, no there is only one fashion queen and it’s me.  Moving right along.

Then there are the half naked shots.  Shirt off, shirt half off, shirt lifted up for the sneak peak. Some are flexing, or looking in the bathroom mirror taking a selfie… Those I find a tad creepy, especially when they don’t show anything from the neck up….You look way better than I do, so beach dates are out, dinner dates are out, all dates are out.

I only peruse the “clean sites,” so I will not touch up on naked pics or penis pics…

Then there are those guys that just like to be shady… they have something to hide… For example, there was the guy that used his high school picture. What a cute guy! Turns out it he had aged 17 years and 30 pounds.  Or the guy that says 6’1, more like 5’6.  They guy that only puts up group shots, but doesn’t tell you which one he is…

My favorite was “creepy eyes.” Sent me a few photos…. only of the right side…. I grew a pair and asked about it. Go me! His response, the right side is my good side. My glass eye reflects poorly with the flash of the camera. That’s a keeper ladies and gents 🙂

Mr. Flat Tire

Jumped back into dating and went out with “Mr. Flat Tire” (you’ll understand the name shortly) against my better judgement.  Why do I continue to ignore my gut feelings?! Because I am the girl of a million chances. So here is the story….

I’m scheduled to go on a second date with this guy. I call him an hour before the date and say, “Hey, Mr. Flat Tire! I was really looking forward to our date. I have some bad news, I have a flat tire (this was actually true.  I was looking forward to the date and I did have a flat tire). What would be an appropriate response from Mr. Flat Tire….you can choose more than one answer……
1. I’m on the treadmill, I’ll call you back in 5 minutes.
2. Can you find a car somewhere to borrow?
3. How about a donut? Do you have one of those to use? It’s safe to cross a bridge with those (no it’s not Evil Kenevil)
4. I know it’s Sunday, but I’m sure you can run to a mechanic and get it fixed and then get here in time.
5. I’ll get someone else to go and call you later.

If you circled all of those, you are a winner! Yes, I had the pleasure of getting all those responses within a span of 10 minutes. Mr. Flat Tire never asked if I was ok, if I was stuck on the side of the road, or if he could help. He didn’t even ask the obvious, can I pick you up?! All he had to do was offer, I doubt I would have accepted.

Perhaps I should have seen the warning signs with Mr. Flat Tire…. when we first me he was an aggressive, drunk jerk. Almost pushed me onto train tracks! First date he told me hew as vindictive and if someone messes with him, he will get back at them if it kills him. Danger!!!  He was a let down, just like the tire.

So I continue to ask… why do I keep giving people so many chances when they show warning signs right from the start?

The end is just the beginning…

Today is the first day of the rest of my life, well my blogging life. It is the birth of Dating, Dresses, and Drama; a dream that I have had for a few years now.  A chance to expresses myself, tell my stories, and break free of what I am “supposed to be at this age.”   It is time to tell the truth about life in your 30s, about friendships that hurt more than they help, and engagements that are meant to be broken.

How did this all get started? I am glad you asked that serious question because it has a very long and complicated history.

I haven’t discussed my relationship much to other people because I was trying to maintain my perfect image of what I was supposed to be at this age, the path I was supposed to follow, even if it was riddled with thorns and wild beasts in the form of a cruel future husband’s side of the family. I am walking away from my perfectly planned out life; from my relationship of four years, with an engagement of two.  Have you been in this relationship before? The one that you know you don’t belong in, the one you’re your family and friends tell you is toxic, where your own mother tells you to make a choice because she cannot watch her only child be emotionally abused by a guy?  For your sake I hope not.  Why did I stay you ask?  Fear.  Habit.  Security.   Expectancy.  Loneliness.  I can go on forever.  I was trapped in a hell of my own creation… I had lost myself completely in this person…in his lies and emotional unavailability and inability to love me like I wanted to be loved.  How could I leave him, he was my best friend, my partner in crime, he knew everything about me, he was my fiancé?!

Here’s what I decided:  I needed to stop worrying about what other people thought, what I was “supposed” to.  I need to start caring about myself and work towards my dreams instead of depending on others to make me happy.  I knew what my future would hold if I stayed in this relationship–bruised, broken, beat down, fight after fight, and conversations that went in circles with no result.  I know in my heart that this is not the person intended for me …I am little psychic and should trust my gut more.

Now that you know where I have come from, come with me as I figure out where I am going.  Enjoy my stories as I try to find new love, make friends, and reinvent myself.   Share your input, your ideas, your stories, so we can learn from each other.  I just freed up the passenger seat in my car and you’re more than welcome to hop in for the ride.