one_step_at_a_time's Datingish

True Stories...

Fri, 29 May 2009 18:55:32 GMT

I am a Woman. I am Catholic. I am Bisexual. These three things make up a part of who I am, whether I like it or not. But they are not ALL of who I am. That would take more room than a single post would allow, to be sure. I've thought a lot about what I want to do with this blog, and I've come to the conclusion that my experiences in the dating world have offered me a wealth of knowledge, and I would be selfish not to pass it on to you, my readers. But how do I go about doing that? I am first and foremost, a story teller, so that is the first thing that came to mind. In fact, that is what today's post is going to be, a story.

But then I think how practical is that? And what if I haven't directly experienced what you have, but I can offer some insight into it? That is where the How-To comes in. That will come some time next week. But for now, a cautionary tale of love on the interwebz:

For giggles, I decided to post an ad to craigslist. I know, I know. First mistake. Here is the text of that ad:

I love posting these ads. No really, I do. If for nothing else than a good laugh. I should start off about myself to eliminate a majority of you. I'm 25 and going to school full time. I am not employed for numerous reasons, including school. If you have a problem with that, please move on to the next ad. I am Catholic. I don't care if your not. All I ask is that you respect my faith and I will respect yours, even if you don't subscribe to a particular religion. Also, please don't assume that just because I'm Catholic that I automatically follow all the "rules" to the letter of the law. I never said I was a good Catholic. I am also bi-sexual. This does NOT mean I am looking for a threesome or some other business like that, so please don't ask, at least not right now. Its not what I'm looking for at the moment. I have a myriad of interests and hobbies, far too many to list here. We can talk about those later. Physically, I am on the shorter side (5'3 to be exact), a little on the heavy side (not morbidly obese either), with red hair, and green eyes. If your still reading, congrats.

I am looking to date someone with the intent of an LTR. If your looking for FWB or NSA, please do me a favor and move on to the next ad. Better yet, go look in the "casual encounters" section of CL. You'll have more luck there.

As far as the specific individual is concerned, here is what I'm looking for:

SINGLE MALE. No married men looking for something on the side, no sugar daddies with kids my age. I don't have daddy issues, and I sure as hell don't want to deal with your kids thinking I'm out for your money. I'm not.
21-35 years old. I want to go out and have a good time LEGALLY. While 35 is not set in stone, it is a definite preference. As I said before, I don't have daddy issues. Anyone over 45 need not apply, sorry if that's bitchy.
5'10 or taller. Again, a preference, not set in stone. Just be taller than me in 3 inch heels. so at least 5'7.
Race is not important, though I tend to prefer white or Hispanic. Don't let that stop you from replying though.
Not stick thin, but not morbidly obese either.
Employed, going to school, or both. This is not a money thing. Its a I want you to have a life outside of our relationship thing.
A sense of humor is an absolute MUST. If you can't take a joke, please don't waste my time.
Be a gentleman. Open doors, pick me up, that sort of thing.
Don't expect sex on the first date. If it happens, it happens. If not, please don't get all butt hurt.
Cleanliness is a must. Brush your teeth, take a shower, spray on some cologne if necessary. I want to see you BEFORE I smell you.

And finally:

Don't be a spam bot. Don't send me to your website. I can report you to CL if need be. Your pic will get mine =) Have a great day.

I did this more as a social experiment and to see what kind of responses I would get. All in the name of good blogging material. Apparently, men on CL aren't all that picky, or they don't know how to read. I got something like 30 responses within an hour of the ad going live. I eliminated 10 of them in the first 2 minutes based on age alone. 10 more were eliminated within the hour because our personalities didn't click. 5 were spam bots. So that left 5 good men who responded to my ad within the hour. I went out with one of them this past Sunday, and I'm set to go out with another one tomorrow. What follows is Sunday's date:

It was kind of spur of the moment. We seemed to have this really great mental connection, and he wasn't bad looking either. We agreed to meet at the Market Broiler in Ontario at 8:45pm. He was late, but not too badly. I was wearing jeans, a nice shirt, and a pair of heels. I looked HOT. He was wearing a ratty t-shirt, shorts, and flip flops. Second mistake. He was a gentleman though, and knew how to maintain a conversation. I don't think we stopped talking the entire time we were there, but something just didn't seem right. I brushed it off and continued the conversation. The waitress brought the bill. He wouldn't even think of going dutch, so I dropped the protest rather quickly. Kudos point 1. I hadn't noticed before, but he lied about his height. I'm 5'6 in heels and he told me he was 6'0. I was taller than he was when I was in heels. Strike three. We walk out of the restaurant and head towards my car. He seems REALLY awkward as we get closer. I go to give him a hug goodbye and he acts like I have a contagious disease. Strike four. He (barely) hugs me goodbye and sprints off towards his car. This was Sunday night. Its now Friday afternoon and I have yet to hear from him. Strike five.

Overall, I thought the date portion went well. I would have rather had him tell me he was shorter than what he originally said he was before we met. I felt awkward wearing heels, and I would have dressed more appropriately had I known. His uber casual dress style indicated to me that he wasn't all that interested to begin with and his behavior at the car didn't help. Methinks I won't be hearing from him again, but there is always tomorrow. Hopefully tomorrow's date will be better than Sunday's. I'll be sure to post about it sometime next week, so be sure to check it out!

Its been entirely too long

Sun, 19 Apr 2009 09:41:52 GMT

Since I posted. I keep getting the emails of my subs, but I hardly ever click over here anymore. I'm so absorbed in everything else. I'm not sure what I'll do with this blog. I'm not a big fan of the "ish sites" as they're so lovingly called. They're kind of like the red headed step child of xanga. I'm sitting here writing this at 3:45 in the morning because I can't sleep. Maybe some sleep and the natural light of day will give me a new perspective, so I'll decide what to do then. Until such a time as this, I bid you all farewell

A Woman's Soul

Mon, 20 Oct 2008 21:25:32 GMT

A Woman's Soul -- Author Unknown

The soul of a woman is a marvelous thing.

It can make the poorest of poor into a Queen.

Because a woman's soul is not judged by what man's eye can see,

But what shines from within. That's pure beauty.

She's a light that shines brighter than any candle man can make.

She's a soldier who keeps on fighting no matter what it takes.

A woman is always a lady in the way that she moves.

She is confident because she knows the true meaning of her divahood.

She will be one of the best friends you have ever had.

She'll wipe the tears from your face, even the ones unshed.

She'll look into your eyes & tell you the truth.

She won't push or shove, but show you what to do.

She is friend, sister, doctor, & lover.

She is caregiver, provider, protector, & lawyer.

She believes in God because she knows that He's real.

She looks to Him for her joy, not man's cheap thrills.

She has victory at home, at church, & at work.

She knows that no man is greater because we all came from dirt.

She knows that the best she is rests deep down inside

In the home that she built for God to reside.

She doesn't need a man to validate how she feels;

Because if it comes down to it, she can pay her own bills.

She shares all she has with those who have less.

She accepts no half-made steps, because she gives her best.

She understands that many times things won't go as she wills,

But it is then that she knows to look to the hills.

Because it is through God alone that her strength is renewed,

Her loads made easier, her burdens removed.

So when her feet are tired & her mind screams to quit,

When she's sore from running & she just wants to sit,

When those loads get too heavy & those burdens too hard,

She doesn't give up, but puts her trust in the Lord.

Because she knows that through God all things are settled.

For she will win the war, even if she loses a battle.

She is a miracle of life, this woman God has made,

More precious than jewels that will one day fade.

If only you can see what a wondrous thing it is to behold

The beauty to be found in a woman's soul

Zombie...

Mon, 20 Oct 2008 20:50:26 GMT

I couldn’t stand the way he looked at her, like he OWNED her or something. The way she looked at him scared me even more. It was like she accepted his ownership of her, like a cute puppy who doesn’t know any better looks at the owner who beats her for no reason. The bruises were the worst. Her hands were the size of cantaloupes and her wrists were black and blue from where he had grabbed her and shook her. How could a human being do that to another human being? It didn’t make sense.
Then it dawned on me. He wasn’t a human being and neither was she. He was a monster and she was a shell of her old self. All I can think about now was the promise of her life. She was smart, talented, beautiful, and funny. And when I say smart I mean a perfect score on her SAT’s and full ride scholarships to ivy-league schools all over the country smart. She could have been anything she wanted to be.
But then that bastard came along and ruined her life. He capitalized on her non-existent relationship with her parents and ran with it. I should have said something. I was supposed to be her best friend, right? The first time she came to me crying should have been the last. I should have stuck with her, even if it meant getting hurt myself. But I was too selfish, too caught up in my own mess to even really see what was going on in her life.
If the tears weren’t enough then the hospital trip should have done it. I’ll admit I acted rashly. I probably shouldn’t have knocked Ian out, even if it was what he deserved. I should have known she would have defended him. By that point he had ripped the very soul from her and turned her into a mindless zombie. I couldn’t recognize her the first time I saw her out of the hospital. She weighed maybe 95 pounds, which is small, even for her. He was starving her, trying to control every aspect of her life. When she went home that night from seeing me he beat her for leaving the house.
Six months later she became pregnant with their first child. When I found out I went directly to her parents, trying to get them to help her, but they said she had made her choices and she had to live with them. They actually had the nerve to say I should back off and let her live her own life. Before I left I asked them if they could even call what she had a life. I left before I could hear their response.
I had some hope that maybe a baby would straighten things out between them, maybe make Ian less of a monster. I was wrong. He wouldn’t even let her have a baby shower, saying they were only for good mothers who didn’t cheat on their husbands. By this point the only thing stopping me from killing him was the fact that Sarah begged me not to. The only way she was even able to communicate with the outside world was through a prepaid cell phone. He monitored all her phone calls on the house phone and her other cell phone, to the point where he would call the number, see who picked up, hang up, and go beat her if he didn’t like who she was talking to. He swore she was cheating on him with anybody and everybody, her friends included.
I don’t know that I would do anything differently. I just know that I don’t want things to end the way they did for Sarah. I remember getting the phone call like it was yesterday, even though its been three years since he killed her. All I can remember about that day was I downed an entire bottle of jack like it was water.
The day started out normal enough. I got in my car to go to school, dredged through my classes for the day, went home, and began to prep dinner. Then the phone rang. I had chicken guts all over my hands, so I asked my mom to pick up the phone. She answered it and Sarah’s mom was on the line. My mom said it sounded urgent, so I quickly washed my hands, dried off and took the phone. All Barbara said was she’s dead, and hung up the phone. No details, no blame, no explanation. I got a card in the mail a few days later with the funeral details, but still no explanation.
The funeral was the worst. Ian was there, holding the baby like nothing had happened. The only thing that was out of place was the armed guard standing next to Ian and the shackles around his feet. I wanted to slap him, wanted to strangle the life out of his body, but I knew he would get what he deserved in the end. Barbara came up to me and apologized for hanging up, but I could barely say anything to her, I was so full of rage.
Rage at her for not doing something sooner, rage at myself for not defending her, hell even rage toward Sarah for not getting out when she had the chance. But I was vengeful towards Ian. The only question I dared to ask was what the hell was he doing there. He had put her in that coffin years before he ever killed her, and he had no right to even think he was welcome there that day.
I couldn’t bear the thought of that jerk, that bastard, that wife beater getting to live on while Sarah’s life was wasted. In my mind, he didn’t deserve to live. I just kept comforting myself with the thought that he would never be able to hurt another woman again, never be able to destroy another life. That is the only thing that allows me to sleep at night…

I'm...

Thu, 09 Oct 2008 00:03:15 GMT

at a crossroads. I love blogging, I really do, even though my lack of posting says otherwise. I just never have the time anymore. By the time I get in front of a computer screen to engage in something other than work my mind is so numb that I can't get a coherent thought across, let alone an entire blog entry. Not to mention the fact that the love life of a broke christian college student is less than thrilling and I am absolutely no good at making stuff up on the fly. Go figure...

So what do I do? Continue to blog about the mediocrity that is my life or let this blog waste away into oblivion?

I have a question...

Mon, 15 Sep 2008 12:48:37 GMT

For those of the male gender, at least. Why is it that no matter how smart, funny, or caring a woman is most guys only care about looks? And on the flipside, when a girl tries to look good for her guy he says she is fine just the way she is? I seriously don't get it...

All I Know...

Thu, 21 Aug 2008 22:32:21 GMT

All I know is I wanted to strangle her. Pure hatred flowed through my veins like blood, and there was nothing I could do to stop. I tried to remind myself that it wasn’t Christian to hate someone, but all I could think of was how she had betrayed me, how she had hurt me. If it were me, I would have chosen the friendship over the guy, but that was just me.

And there she was in the car, sitting next to me like nothing mattered. It rolled off her tongue like it didn’t matter, as if she were telling me she had a dentist appointment later that day she needed me to take her to. She had become so nonchalant lately about everything. Almost like nothing she said or did mattered. I truly wanted to strangle her until the life left her body, but I knew I couldn’t because I knew how much it would hurt him…

Elena had been my best friend since 8th grade, but lately we had been fighting a lot and weren’t as close as we once were. It felt as though we were getting to the end, but neither one of us wanted to admit it. We had gone through so much to get here, why give up now? But that day ended it all. I lost any respect I had for her when I found out she was sleeping with Robert, the love of my life.

We had broken up a few months prior, but it still felt like we were together. Sometimes we would hang out and… Well it was complicated to say the least. But we never really got back together after the fight. It was a cold February morning, three days before Valentines day when it all came to a screeching halt. We were planning what to do for our first Valentines day together, and me being the hopeless romantic wanted to do the traditional dinner and dancing, but Robert was thinking something slightly more, well personal, is the best way to put it.

Little did I know how personal. He wanted to drive up the coast and visit this little inn where we could stay the night and drive back down the next morning. Well I gave in and said yes to his plans, only to regret it a few days later. We were driving in his beat up old mustang with the top down when his phone rang. He answered it only to hang up seconds later. Then my phone rang. He told me to not answer it, but me being the pain I am decided to answer it. I wish I never had. On the other line was Elena, and that conversation turned out to be the most painful experience in my life…

“Hey Elena, what’s up?” I said. “I have something to tell you,” Elena said. “Spill it,” I replied. “I’m in love with Robert,” she said.

I hung up the phone, told Robert to pull over, got out of the car, and started to walk. How could she, I thought? How dare she actually have feelings for the one person who accepted me as is? Robert ran after me, and I started to cry when he wrapped his arms around me. He asked what was wrong, so I told him. He said he knew, that’s why he told me not to answer the phone. That’s when it all started…

I asked him how long he had known and he said a few days. She had come over and told him after I left three days earlier from planning our getaway. I asked him if he had done anything with her or had led her on in any way. He said she kissed him, but he didn’t return. I knew then I needed to break up with him. I couldn’t choose between my best friend and a guy. It just couldn’t be. Not knowing now what I know.

So I told Robert I was breaking up with him, and we began to fight. He thought we could still be together, just not be so open about it around Elena, but I knew it would never work. He didn’t know her like I knew her, at least I thought so. I asked him to drive me home, so we got back in the car and drove home in silence. He dropped me by the curb and said not to call him, ever. I tried to apologize, but he said he couldn’t be just friends with someone he was so in love with.

I called Elena and told her we needed to talk. I went over to her house and began to yell and scream and cry. I was so hurt that she made me break up with him. You see we had made a pact that a guy would never come between us, but I never thought it would get to this point. She KNEW how in love with Robert I was, and knew all that I had been through to be with him. And she wanted me to throw it all away for a friendship that went down the drain only a few months later.

Soon after we broke up, Robert called to find out how I was. I told him I was seeing someone and that I really didn’t want to talk to him because of the new guy. From what everyone has told me, he went to Elena that night and started sleeping with her. Elena and I began to drift apart, spending less and less time together. I know now why that is, but then I didn’t understand. I blamed it on we were both working really hard and going to school, so we just didn’t have the time.

Out of the blue, Elena called me about six months after Robert and I broke up, asking me to give her a ride home from work. She said her car was in the shop and she needed to get home, so I agreed to give her a lift. I showed up at her work and picked her up. I knew something was up when she said that she had something to tell me.

“Robert and I have been sleeping together for a couple months, and I thought you should know.” Elena said.

I put the car in park, told her to get out, and drove off. I just didn’t care anymore. I had tried so hard to salvage our friendship and she went behind my back and slept with the very guy I thought I would spend the rest of my life with! I drove back in time to see her get in the passenger side of Robert’s mustang…

I don't know yet...

Thu, 21 Aug 2008 16:26:51 GMT

Ups and Downs

Wed, 20 Aug 2008 19:41:41 GMT

We all have them. Mine just tend to be more extreme. Is that really a bad thing?

Maybe (In its entirety)

Fri, 15 Aug 2008 18:19:10 GMT

Maybe it was the way he laughed. Maybe it was that hat. All I know is I was smitten. You don’t hear smitten all that often. Its been replaced by so many other adjectives that smitten has become a word of the past. But that’s what I was. His laugh, smile, eyes, and hat made the perfect package.

I knew right away that he would never be mine. Too many girls prettier than I were jonesing after him, and I just wasn’t that well, forward, about my crush. It wasn’t my style. I’d always been taught to wait for the guy to pursue me, which I knew to be right, but was finding it to be more and more difficult with each passing single day.

I hadn’t been in a relationship since Kenny, at least not a real one. I’d had flings, affairs, and good times, but no relationship. I really wanted to be in a relationship, desired to be, thought I needed to be. But God said no. He had something so much better planned for me. “What is it?” I asked. “Just wait and see My beautiful daughter,” He told me. So I’m waiting, still…

And I’ll continue to wait until…

I can clear Kenny from my head completely. I know that may take a while, but I owe it to the one who loves me to be completely in love with him, whoever that may be. My mom brought him up the other day in a side conversation. We were waiting to buy groceries and she asked what had happened with his family. All of a sudden I got this flutter in my heart that maybe he was back again, but I knew it wasn’t true. People don’t come back from the dead.

I told her they were doing fine, still trying to cope almost two years later. She said it was hard to lose a child, especially the way Kenny’s life ended. No parent should have to go through that, even parents as horrible as Kenny’s.

His mom was good enough. Sometimes I thought Kenny would be fine if his mom were a single mom. She was nice, polite, and most of all liked me more than his previous girlfriends. His dad was a nightmare. Boorish, outdated, and incredibly rude. He expected more from Kenny than any parent should expect from a child, and he made sure Kenny knew he was disappointed. He could have brought home Mother Teresa as his girlfriend and Kenny’s dad still would have been unhappy.

Maybe that’s why Kenny…

Decided it was time to end his life, and shatter mine in the process. People try to say its not my fault. Rationally I know it’s not my fault. My heart still believes he pulled the trigger of that God forsaken .9mm because of me though. I don’t want to believe it, I’m not supposed to, but I do all the same. And only God knows how long I’ll feel this way.

Maybe that is why I can’t find a new boyfriend. Its been 2 years now and I have yet to stay in a relationship longer than a few months, and that’s being optimistic…

I’ll remember that night for the rest of my life though. He said we needed to talk, and since I was still in love with him, I left the current flings house to go talk to Kenny. I was hoping we would work it all out and get back together, but Kenny had other plans. I knocked on the door of his apartment, and he told me to come in. Before I could stop him he shouted “it’s all your fault!” and pulled the trigger…

Two years later, and I can still hear that shot in my head. Two years later, and I can still see the blood spattered all over the wall...

All I remember is dialing 911 and telling the operator what had happened. The people who came after said I was curled up next to Kenny's lifeless body, barely breathing. It took everything I had to not grab that gun and end it right then and there. The only thing that kept me hanging on was the hope that maybe he had missed, maybe it was only a superficial wound and he had passed out from the blood loss. I knew it then it was futile. I couldn't feel him breathing.

I screamed at the cops who came through the door because I didn't want them to take him away. I saw the morgue van outside and knew it was over. All over. The officer said I passed out then, and the next thing I remember was showing up at...

Andrew's house. The officer parked behind me and got out of his car, gun drawn. They weren't sure what I was going to do, if anything. I walked up to the door, knocked and he came out, saw the tears streaming down my face and rushed me inside. He sent his mom out to tell the officer I would be staying here, then took me back to his room and closed the door.

I don't even know why I went to him. We weren't dating, hell we were barely even friends. All we did was play drinking games and have sex. But Andrew was the only person I could think of. I don't even remember how I got there, or how I didn't hit anything or anyone on the way there. God must have been protecting me that night, though I would swear then that it was just dumb luck.

I climbed onto Andrew's bed, curled up in a ball and proceeded to cry for the next four hours, interspersed with trips to the bathroom to puke my guts out. That night was the last time I heard from Andrew. We didn't have sex that night, at least not that I remember. All I know is I was numb. My brain and body refused to function.

Andrew called my mom the next morning and asked her to come pick me up. He said I would have to tell her why. She came as soon as he called and rushed in to get me, anxious to know where her daughter had been all night. I told her what happened and she immediately called my dad to let him know what had happened.

The last two years have been an emotional roller coaster. I've gone from glad Kenny is gone to curled up in the fetal position wishing I would die so that I could be with him. Each day is different, but in a good way. I'm stronger now than I was two years ago, and I'm not afraid to tell people how I feel. If there is one thing I've learned, its you have to communicate your feelings in order to be heard. I can't bottle it up inside and pray to God it goes away, because I know that doesn't work.

The End.