My best friend, my life partner. I breathe your breath, I cry your tears, I smile your smiles. I never would have known this 9 years ago. I didn't have the knowledge, the depth of love, the understanding, the respect. Unless it's your blood, it only comes over time. You have nothing to offer me but your intelligence, your heart, your humor, your unconditional love for me. And that means more than anything. I know this now. I'm still learning. I'm still endeavoring to open my eyes to see what you are able to see, to know what you know, to have the strength that you do. You are my comfort in the storm, my confidant, my trusted friend...who I entrust with my secrets, my fears, my heart, my tears, the rawest part of me. The parts that I want to hide from other people, even those closest to me, I show to you. I trust you with it. You are the person closest to me whose blood does not run through my veins. It's important. I don't know what I'd do without you, without being able to pick up the phone and hear your strong, fighting, stalwart voice...the same voice I always heard but never understood.
You're just like me, that's why I had to reject you. Smart, intelligent, brilliant, scared, dependent. I couldn't be with you because I needed someone to counterbalance my weaknesses. I didn't want to see them reflected at me day by day. Your words, your heart, your mind, your intelligence...are all on par with mine. You are my other half, my male counterpart. I admire your strength and don't think I have the same. Maybe I do, but I don't know. I hope I never have to find out. I respect you. I'm proud of you. I love you. I'm amazed by you. I'm in awe of you. I'm thankful for you. Please don't ever leave me. It will be a loss too great to bear. How can I be me without you? Without you to understand me, hear me, love me, anyway. How will I ever find someone else to love besides you? Someone who I love only because I love them? Not because of what they have, who they are, what they can give me?
How do I know I love you? Because if you found a girl...again...I'd release you again....and be happy for you...again...and always take you back and be there for you...again...and again. Because you never diresepected me, never hurt me, never did me wrong. You always said what you meant and did what you said you were going to do. The simple things are priceless. I know this now. You were always just you...being who you are, without apologies. And now I see that, and respect it.
Friday, October 30, 2009
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
O Town, Toe Town
I was in Orlando visiting my sister and brother in law, looking into a potential business venture, and contemplating acquiescing to my sister's desire for me to relocate. It would be a potentially very exciting change for me...a fresh start, a new life, a new job and a brand new dating pool! Being the diligent researcher that I am, I dug in and set up a date with an eligible O Town bachelor. I figured I may as well jump right in and see what Central Florida has to offer me in the way of men, since I'm just about finished dating everyone in South Florida.
I set up a lunch date with J, who owns a commercial landscaping company. We met for sushi, slinked into a booth in midday, devoured our Bento boxes and got to know each other. He was handsome... olive skin, hazel eyes, dark hair with just a hint of salt. He was pretty well spoken, for someone who grew up in Central Florida anyway, and sufficiently entertaining. Our conversation eventually led to talking about our dogs...at which time he pulled out his IPhone, swung himself over to my side of the booth, sidled up just a little too close to me and showed me pictures of his two Chow mixes and his shangrli-la like backyard in his downtown home, complete with jacuzzi, hammock and outdoor firepit.
We made our way out of the restaurant and into the stifling Orlando heat, and he asked me if I wanted to go to a movie. I didn't have anything on my schedule for the rest of the afternoon, so a movie it was! Surprisingly, we made a pit stop at Whole Foods so he could replenish some of his vitamin supply. He toured me through the store, extolling its virtues as if he owned the place and as if I'd never been in a Whole Foods before, which, by the way, is a complete sensory overload for me. The store absolutely overwhelms me with its multitude of culinary delights. On more than one occassion I've filled my basket with a few overpriced items, realized I could get more cost effective fare at Publix, and left empty handed. Never fails. Except for the one time that I paid $5 for a tiny container of the most delicious tuna fish ever made...mayo, onions, cranberries...heaven.
After hitting the candy counter for the requesite Peanut M&Ms and Reese's Pieces, we settled into our seats. As the movie began, I noticed he was quite touchy feeley...as if we were boyfriend and girlfriend. "Maybe he's just very affectionate", I tried to rationalize. "You're touching me too much", I told him. This didn't deter him for long. The next thing I knew he was massaging my foot. As over the top as it was for a first date in the middle of the afternoon, I have to admit if felt good. But I must also admit that I was in no way prepared for what was about to happen next. Before I realized what was going on, he was bent down and licking my toes! Licking, only because sucking wasn't really an option since my shoe was still on. Again, I have to admit, it felt good. But, the fact that I'd just met this guy about two hours earlier, made the whole thing seem just kinda weird. I managed to make my way through the remainder of the movie with being further accosted. I couldn't really concentrate at that point...I just kinda sat there in the dark, wondering...if I were in the twilight zone.
I mean, when did it become okay for men to behave this way? When did men start conducting themselves like this? What gives them these ideas...and the audacity to execute them? I can only conclude that it's the women's fault. Men are going to go as far as they can, push the envelope, take what they can get. And so many women are just giving it up...giving it all away...right up front...1st date, second date...when these men don't even know anything about them, let alone care anyting about them. So, the men think they can move go from toe sucking 2 hours in to full fledged fucking before the night ends. It's insane. It's disgusting. And it's anticipated. Sure has made dating harder for me even in just the last year. In a world of first date fucking it's not easy being a super sexy, kissing bandit, hardcore tease who is, ultimately, Prudie McPrudence.
I set up a lunch date with J, who owns a commercial landscaping company. We met for sushi, slinked into a booth in midday, devoured our Bento boxes and got to know each other. He was handsome... olive skin, hazel eyes, dark hair with just a hint of salt. He was pretty well spoken, for someone who grew up in Central Florida anyway, and sufficiently entertaining. Our conversation eventually led to talking about our dogs...at which time he pulled out his IPhone, swung himself over to my side of the booth, sidled up just a little too close to me and showed me pictures of his two Chow mixes and his shangrli-la like backyard in his downtown home, complete with jacuzzi, hammock and outdoor firepit.
We made our way out of the restaurant and into the stifling Orlando heat, and he asked me if I wanted to go to a movie. I didn't have anything on my schedule for the rest of the afternoon, so a movie it was! Surprisingly, we made a pit stop at Whole Foods so he could replenish some of his vitamin supply. He toured me through the store, extolling its virtues as if he owned the place and as if I'd never been in a Whole Foods before, which, by the way, is a complete sensory overload for me. The store absolutely overwhelms me with its multitude of culinary delights. On more than one occassion I've filled my basket with a few overpriced items, realized I could get more cost effective fare at Publix, and left empty handed. Never fails. Except for the one time that I paid $5 for a tiny container of the most delicious tuna fish ever made...mayo, onions, cranberries...heaven.
After hitting the candy counter for the requesite Peanut M&Ms and Reese's Pieces, we settled into our seats. As the movie began, I noticed he was quite touchy feeley...as if we were boyfriend and girlfriend. "Maybe he's just very affectionate", I tried to rationalize. "You're touching me too much", I told him. This didn't deter him for long. The next thing I knew he was massaging my foot. As over the top as it was for a first date in the middle of the afternoon, I have to admit if felt good. But I must also admit that I was in no way prepared for what was about to happen next. Before I realized what was going on, he was bent down and licking my toes! Licking, only because sucking wasn't really an option since my shoe was still on. Again, I have to admit, it felt good. But, the fact that I'd just met this guy about two hours earlier, made the whole thing seem just kinda weird. I managed to make my way through the remainder of the movie with being further accosted. I couldn't really concentrate at that point...I just kinda sat there in the dark, wondering...if I were in the twilight zone.
I mean, when did it become okay for men to behave this way? When did men start conducting themselves like this? What gives them these ideas...and the audacity to execute them? I can only conclude that it's the women's fault. Men are going to go as far as they can, push the envelope, take what they can get. And so many women are just giving it up...giving it all away...right up front...1st date, second date...when these men don't even know anything about them, let alone care anyting about them. So, the men think they can move go from toe sucking 2 hours in to full fledged fucking before the night ends. It's insane. It's disgusting. And it's anticipated. Sure has made dating harder for me even in just the last year. In a world of first date fucking it's not easy being a super sexy, kissing bandit, hardcore tease who is, ultimately, Prudie McPrudence.
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
Cupcakes
I couldn't make this stuff up if I tried. I've been out of circulation for about a month....seems like forever...a bad cold had me down for two weeks and then I was in Orlando for almost a week. Oh, almost forgot, I did go on a date in Orlando...which makes for yet another great story. But I'll get back to that. Two nights ago I went out with what seemed to be a "nice Jewish boy". It's been a while since I've been out with one of those...and after all my dates over the last year I still think back to The Pothead fondly. He was the best of the worst. Scary.
The NJB and I met at my favorite restaurant by the beach...if nothing else, I knew the view would be unbeatable...and for him assuredly a double blessing: the ocean and me. He showed up 15 minutes late, after texting me with apologies of his impending tardiness. But, I was at the beach, live music was playing, the weather couldn't have been better, I ordered a drink, and he was just tall and handsome enough for me to let his lateness go. We drank and talked and ate for 5 hours...by my standards, it was a great date. He texted me on the way home, "You rock!", and invited me to dinner and a movie at his place the following night. I, of course, was stupid enough to go. After consulting my life partner, he assured me that going to NJB's house for a movie was normal and fine. So, although I kinda thought the second date was a bit soon to be doing the at home date, I went with cupcakes in hand (he mentioned he has a thing for Publix cupcakes, and being the sweet person that I am...I brought him some). Benefit of the doubt = a stupid thing to give.
He met me at the gate of his huge community and led the way to his house. Upon entering the home, and even before, it was quite apparent that it was not, in fact, his house. He had quite an impressive spread laid out on the kitchen table...ahi tuna, Italian wedding soup, prime rib, mashed potatoes, green beens and au jus. Nice. We ate and talked...well, I ate...everything...he just had the soup. When I asked him why he wasn't eating, as I dug into my dinner with gusto, he said he was so hungry when he got home, he ended up eating before I got there. Okay....
After dinner, I asked him who's house we were in. Apparently, he must have known this question was coming, since it was a large home clearly decorated in a model-like fashion from the '90s. He said he was going to tell me the story because he knew my type and that I had a lot of questions. Of course, I found it odd that on our second date he knew what "my type" was and all the thoughts that that entailed. Not to mention that the verbalization of that verbage, "my type", was quite offputting and made me feel defensive. I asked him repeatedly, out of sheer and utter curiosity, to explain exactly what "type" he perceived me to be. But he declined explanation. Any woman that was not a complete and total schmuck would have known that this wasn't his house...so, as far as I was concerned, that fact begged the question, "So, who's house is this?" He went on to explain that this is a "family house" that he moved into 3 weeks ago, and that he and his brother, who is apparently a successful Manhattan attorney, own 4 investment properties that are rented out, all but one with negative cash flow. Okay, I can buy that. He said he and his girlfriend broke up 5 months ago, he lived in one of the investment properties over the summer, which now has a tenant, so he moved himself into the "family house". Okay, I get it. For themost part, it was already obvious. He proceeded to show me pictures of his family, and gave me the grand tour, which culminated in his room, where the TV was on and I, as sharp as I am, quickly put two and two together, as he asked me if I was ready to watch the movie. "In here?", I inquired. "Yeah, if you don't mind. I hate watching movies on the couch". Of course! Who watches movies on a couch on a second date? Of course let's watch in the bed!
If for no other reason (although there are other reasons)than to acquire material that I couldn't make up if I tried, I agreed. So, he turns down the bed, I lay all the way over on my side and then he tells me he's going to take a quick shower. He disappears into the bathroom, and I'm laying there wondering if this is really happening or if I am, in fact, in the twilight zone. He comes out of the bathroom in shorts and a t-shirt and I look at him perplexedly and ask if he often takes showers in the middle of a second date after suggesting watchng a movie in his bed. He then goes on to explain to me that he's a bit OCD and he likes to be clean. My brow furrows. I ask him how many showers he takes in a day. He says at least two. He tells me that he took one when he got home, but when he drove to the front gate to lead me to the house, he felt that he smelled like "outside" and wanted to take a shower. Granted, at that point I should have run screaming for the hills. But,I was in too deep and this material is pricesless, so I persevered. I asked him what other complusions he has (he mentioned oral hygiene on the first date, but I didn't really think anything of it). He said he doesn't have any others, and then mentioned his therapist. I didn't say a word. But he mimicked what he thought were all the questions running through my mind, "You have a therapist? How often do you see him? What else is wrong with you?" and on and on he went. It was insulting. So, I told him he shouldn't judge me or presume to know what my thoughts are since he doesn't know my background or really anything about me. In his extremely soft-spoken manner, which I've deduced is very disarming, he apologized.
We start watching the movie. A little while later he asked me if I wanted to scratch his back. So I asked him if he had an itch, knowing full well that he didn't. Twilight zone? I excuse myself to go to the bathroom. When I return to the room he said he would be nice first and motioned for me to lay next to him, to cuddle with him. Mental patient that I am, I cuddled with him. He was warm and very cuddly. He stroked my hair, tickeld my arm and didn't touch me inappropriately in any way. I mean, other than the fact that the whole scenario was inappropriate to begin with. Other than that, everything was fine. His hands were big and strong and warm, and quite frankly, if we'd been dating for, oh, I don't know...more than a minute, I certainly would have liked to have felt them all over me. But, this whole scene on the second date just screamed...psycho?
The movie ended and I told him I had to go...he walked me to the door, gave me a hug and kiss on the cheek and asked me if I knew how to get back out of the community. I told him I'd figure it out (I didn't want him to step outside and then have to take another shower). I told him I'd call him if I got lost, but he insisted on leading the way for me. As he put on his sneakers and walked to his car he said he'd just have to take another shower. I laughed, but I don't think he was joking. He led me to the front gate and I made my way home. He texted me this afternoon saying "just thinking about you...and cupcakes". Will I ever find anyone worthy of my cupcakes?
The NJB and I met at my favorite restaurant by the beach...if nothing else, I knew the view would be unbeatable...and for him assuredly a double blessing: the ocean and me. He showed up 15 minutes late, after texting me with apologies of his impending tardiness. But, I was at the beach, live music was playing, the weather couldn't have been better, I ordered a drink, and he was just tall and handsome enough for me to let his lateness go. We drank and talked and ate for 5 hours...by my standards, it was a great date. He texted me on the way home, "You rock!", and invited me to dinner and a movie at his place the following night. I, of course, was stupid enough to go. After consulting my life partner, he assured me that going to NJB's house for a movie was normal and fine. So, although I kinda thought the second date was a bit soon to be doing the at home date, I went with cupcakes in hand (he mentioned he has a thing for Publix cupcakes, and being the sweet person that I am...I brought him some). Benefit of the doubt = a stupid thing to give.
He met me at the gate of his huge community and led the way to his house. Upon entering the home, and even before, it was quite apparent that it was not, in fact, his house. He had quite an impressive spread laid out on the kitchen table...ahi tuna, Italian wedding soup, prime rib, mashed potatoes, green beens and au jus. Nice. We ate and talked...well, I ate...everything...he just had the soup. When I asked him why he wasn't eating, as I dug into my dinner with gusto, he said he was so hungry when he got home, he ended up eating before I got there. Okay....
After dinner, I asked him who's house we were in. Apparently, he must have known this question was coming, since it was a large home clearly decorated in a model-like fashion from the '90s. He said he was going to tell me the story because he knew my type and that I had a lot of questions. Of course, I found it odd that on our second date he knew what "my type" was and all the thoughts that that entailed. Not to mention that the verbalization of that verbage, "my type", was quite offputting and made me feel defensive. I asked him repeatedly, out of sheer and utter curiosity, to explain exactly what "type" he perceived me to be. But he declined explanation. Any woman that was not a complete and total schmuck would have known that this wasn't his house...so, as far as I was concerned, that fact begged the question, "So, who's house is this?" He went on to explain that this is a "family house" that he moved into 3 weeks ago, and that he and his brother, who is apparently a successful Manhattan attorney, own 4 investment properties that are rented out, all but one with negative cash flow. Okay, I can buy that. He said he and his girlfriend broke up 5 months ago, he lived in one of the investment properties over the summer, which now has a tenant, so he moved himself into the "family house". Okay, I get it. For themost part, it was already obvious. He proceeded to show me pictures of his family, and gave me the grand tour, which culminated in his room, where the TV was on and I, as sharp as I am, quickly put two and two together, as he asked me if I was ready to watch the movie. "In here?", I inquired. "Yeah, if you don't mind. I hate watching movies on the couch". Of course! Who watches movies on a couch on a second date? Of course let's watch in the bed!
If for no other reason (although there are other reasons)than to acquire material that I couldn't make up if I tried, I agreed. So, he turns down the bed, I lay all the way over on my side and then he tells me he's going to take a quick shower. He disappears into the bathroom, and I'm laying there wondering if this is really happening or if I am, in fact, in the twilight zone. He comes out of the bathroom in shorts and a t-shirt and I look at him perplexedly and ask if he often takes showers in the middle of a second date after suggesting watchng a movie in his bed. He then goes on to explain to me that he's a bit OCD and he likes to be clean. My brow furrows. I ask him how many showers he takes in a day. He says at least two. He tells me that he took one when he got home, but when he drove to the front gate to lead me to the house, he felt that he smelled like "outside" and wanted to take a shower. Granted, at that point I should have run screaming for the hills. But,I was in too deep and this material is pricesless, so I persevered. I asked him what other complusions he has (he mentioned oral hygiene on the first date, but I didn't really think anything of it). He said he doesn't have any others, and then mentioned his therapist. I didn't say a word. But he mimicked what he thought were all the questions running through my mind, "You have a therapist? How often do you see him? What else is wrong with you?" and on and on he went. It was insulting. So, I told him he shouldn't judge me or presume to know what my thoughts are since he doesn't know my background or really anything about me. In his extremely soft-spoken manner, which I've deduced is very disarming, he apologized.
We start watching the movie. A little while later he asked me if I wanted to scratch his back. So I asked him if he had an itch, knowing full well that he didn't. Twilight zone? I excuse myself to go to the bathroom. When I return to the room he said he would be nice first and motioned for me to lay next to him, to cuddle with him. Mental patient that I am, I cuddled with him. He was warm and very cuddly. He stroked my hair, tickeld my arm and didn't touch me inappropriately in any way. I mean, other than the fact that the whole scenario was inappropriate to begin with. Other than that, everything was fine. His hands were big and strong and warm, and quite frankly, if we'd been dating for, oh, I don't know...more than a minute, I certainly would have liked to have felt them all over me. But, this whole scene on the second date just screamed...psycho?
The movie ended and I told him I had to go...he walked me to the door, gave me a hug and kiss on the cheek and asked me if I knew how to get back out of the community. I told him I'd figure it out (I didn't want him to step outside and then have to take another shower). I told him I'd call him if I got lost, but he insisted on leading the way for me. As he put on his sneakers and walked to his car he said he'd just have to take another shower. I laughed, but I don't think he was joking. He led me to the front gate and I made my way home. He texted me this afternoon saying "just thinking about you...and cupcakes". Will I ever find anyone worthy of my cupcakes?
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