Beef Cake: Part 2

(Continued from Beef Cake: Part 1)

It was a beautiful winter day, driving towards the Berkshire Mountains.  The sun was out and the sky was crystal clear – not a cloud anywhere.  Everything looked pristine.  The sun was really warm and bright, hanging high in the sky – so much that I even cracked open Red Rocket’s sunroof.  Snow was still on the ground and blanketed the rolling hills that seemed to go on forever; it was truly a perfect day.

I was nervous – nervous and anxious.  The butterflies in my stomach that had been there for the past three days had now managed to flutter up into my throat. My emotions on over-load, with too many thoughts  running through my head.

Once again, doubt and fear of being disappointed had made its way into  my thoughts.  Have I trumped up this image of Beef Cake in my head?  Am I getting my hopes up too high?  I’ve seen his pictures.  I’ve spent hours on the phone with him – but something is bothering me.  I’ve seen this scenario before…I’m scared this won’t work.  Is he too good to be true?

Over the last few years, I had become very conscious of who I let in my life. I’m not going to go for someone who doesn’t get me and I certainly am not going to date someone simply to have someone in my life.  Being single isn’t all that bad. I’d rather be single than date someone who is not right for me.  I’m trying to go for the right guy – and certainly Beef Cake treated me the way I deserve to be treated.

I’m determined to keep my eye on the prize. I’ve done everything right.  I’m taking my time, I’m staying focused. So then why, in God’s name, am I thinking about the texts I received two weeks ago from someone else?!

I clutch the steering wheel with both hands out of frustration.  I swear, I need my head examined.  I’m a horrible person for letting my thoughts stray.  I’m about to meet Beef Cake for the first time and yet here I am thinking about texts that I deliberately ignored…

Damn you, DC Dude!  You have horrible timing. What’s wrong with me?  More importantly, what’s wrong with DC Dude?  It’s February and we are still doing this.  We are still playing this stupid cat-and-mouse game.  We are pathetic!  I’m pathetic! Nine whole months went by before DC Dude decided to show up out of nowhere and ended up spending a night together.   Where did that come from?  I’m pretty sure he was just as surprised as I was that his friend’s parents who he was helping move, lived just up the street from me.

Yes, you read that right.  DC Dude lives 250 miles away in Washington, DC and he ends up a half mile away from my house.  Literally.  Up the street.

Coincidence?

My intuition says, “No.”

He shows up in the middle of the night, and we were so happy to see each other, but then what does he do?

He disappears….again!

No call.

No text.

No nothing.

Like Becky says, that’s bad form!  Thank God I didn’t have sex with him, because it would have made me feel like I was being used for a hook-up.

*crowd boo’s*

And, so my intuition was right.  I felt bad I didn’t hear from DC Dude after that night, but I would have felt worse had I given up my “Penis Free” status for him.  Worse?  Hell, I would have been pissed.

And, to continue on with the dysfunction that DC Dude and I are so good at (yes, I do take some of the blame) three weeks before his birthday in December he was once again on my mind as I wondered if I should call him on his birthday or not.

Do I call?

Do I not call?

Do I call?

Do I not call?

Birthdays are special – show him you care.  Don’t text, just call.  You would want him to call you on your birthday.

So, I called and he answered saying, “I was just recently thinking about you.”

It was good to hear his voice again.  We spoke for ten minutes and from there the conversations continued for about a week and a half; some by text, some by phone, but in the end I got the same result:

He disappeared.

Again.

And, again…I stopped trying.

With DC Dude, he makes me feel discouraged, disgusted, disappointed, sad and tired. It shouldn’t be this difficult. So, I inquired with a few  of the chicks in the Hen House that best know me and they agreed that I was still hung up on DC Dude because …and I quote, “He’s the guy you can’t have and you always like a challenge, Carrie.”

*blink-blink*

My response to that statement was that I like a guy that intrigues me…there’s a difference you know between a “challenge” and “intrigue.”  One is a lot healthier than the other, no?  I said it a long time ago, I’ll say it again, I need someone who has a little swagger.  I don’t think there is anything wrong with that.  Besides, there are definitely a few other guys that I couldn’t have (I know, hard to believe), but I never got hung up on them like this.

Jesus, I just admitted that I’m still hung up on DC Dude.

Mother…

What’s wrong with this picture?! Here I am on my way to meet wonderful Mr. Beef Cake, and I’m thinking about Mr. “Disappearing Act” DC Dude.

We clearly have unfinished business and it just frustrates the snot out of me!!!  I know this is life, but I just want to know, could we work or not?  But, how can I work with someone who doesn’t communicate with me anymore…and furthermore, do I want someone who disappears into his shell when the doggie poop hits the fan?

*makes mental note and subtracts 25 points*

Only one person is allowed to hide in their shell when things go bad…

*pointing at herself*

…and that’s me.

So, even though I’ve done my best to move on and invest my time in someone who is willing to put in the effort into a relationship (uhmm, that would be Beef Cake) I couldn’t help but think of the last text DC Dude sent.

DC Dude:  We need a weekend together.  Miss ya.

Somebody shoot me, please!  I swear he’s trying to torture me.  Why does DC Dude do this?

Ignore!

Ignore!

Someone, please tell me, is this an innate thing that guys have or, is it in a guy’s handbook somewhere that tells you exactly when to disappear and then reappear at the EXACT right moment to drive the tall, red head nutty? I really don’t get it.  Why?  Why now?  No, DC Dude, you don’t get to chime in like that.  You want to see me and you miss me and you say this in a text?

Don’t I at least deserve a phone call? 

Beef Cake calls all the time…I’m sticking with Beef Cake!

Both hands still firmly on the steering wheel, I’m cruising along in 6th gear through the rolling snow-covered hills,  trying to swallow the butterflies, which are still insisting on fluttering up into my throat.  I remind myself that I’m about to meet Beef Cake for the first time, but my mind still flip-flops.  On one hand, I have the wonderful Mr. Beef Cake, and on the other, I have DC Dude still lingering in my head.  It’s so wrong, so I reach over to turn up the music hoping to drown out the thoughts in my head. 

We are meeting Beef Cake – you CANNOT be thinking of DC Dude right now!

The drive seems to take forever.  I just need to know.  Is it Beef Cake, or not?  My gut intuition pipes in and I hear it say, “Just enjoy the next three days with him.”

Great! It’s never a good sign when your gut isn’t even giving you encouraging words.  Fine, I’m just going to go with it.  I’m Zen, dammit.  ZEN! 

Ommmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm……

Over the last couple of weeks there had been a slow, progressive build-up of sexual tension between me and Beef Cake.  Our conversations were all kept “PG,” but it did come up eventually how long it had been since we both had nookie.  I thought I had gone a long time, but he had gone even longer.  Once we had that conversation, talking about sex was no longer off the table.  We  joked about how obvious it was that people on Plenty of Crap just used the website to hook-up, and we were  both determined not be that couple.

So then why did we book a hotel room for the next three days?!

*crowd gasps*

Yes, I had come to terms with the fact that, if it felt right with Beef Cake, I was willing to bid adieu to my Penis Free status.  Beef Cake was wonderful.  I had found someone who I was attracted to, inside and out and most importantly, he was being that guy that I deserved.  We had started a nice friendship and being the gentleman that he was, he had assured me that whatever happened over the course of the three days, there were no sexual expectations on his part and he would be happy to just spend time with me.

I finally got to our hotel and parked Red Rocket in the parking lot, took a deep breath and sent Beef Cake a text:  “I’m here.”

Beef Cake came out of the front doors and we walked towards each other with a smile on our faces – we were both laughing. He walked up to me and wrapped me in his arms and gave me a big hug.  FINALLY!

(If you have never been in this situation before, then it’s hard to explain how it feels meeting someone for the first time after corresponding with them for a long time.  I knew him, but I didn’t.  It was a little awkward.)

Hand-in-hand we walked inside together and when he opened the door to our candle-lit room, inside was a big, beautiful, pink bouquet of flowers.  “Oh my God, you got me flowers!”

 (My camera on my phone obviously doesn’t take good photos, but the flowers were beautiful!)

We sat down on the couch and he handed me a pretty white bag filled with two more boxes of tea, a few more candles, a pair of earrings, lavender body oil, and a pretty heart-shaped bar of lavender soap all from the same boutique he had bought my care package from.  I was on cloud nine – from the candles, to the flowers – he had thought of everything to make this moment special.  It was perfect.  I was happy.  He had really put in a lot of effort to make sure our meeting didn’t feel like a hook-up.  There was no doubt that he was definitely into me.

*crowd applauds*

It was so nice to finally be face-to-face with a guy that had intrigued me for the last six weeks…six weeks, which in reality felt like an eternity.

Before we met, Beef Cake made it crystal clear that he was off the market.  He even deleted his Plenty of Crap profile (which I never did) and told me that I was the only person he was interested in pursuing.  Big points for him, so being with him was really effortless.  I genuinely liked him.

Our first night together was fun.   I couldn’t remember when the last time I could just really enjoy myself without having to worry about what drove a guy’s motivation to be with me.  He was just as nervous as I was and before our meeting I remember him joking, “Sex is just like riding a bike, right?”  Yes, just like riding a bike, Beef Cake.   And, because we had built our relationship on a foundation of friendship and trust, sex was all that much better.

*DINGGGGGGGGG!*

Ah, buh-bye Penis Free status!!!

Beef Cake made himself transparent and emotionally available, on every level. He was sweet, kind, considerate, attentive and fun.  Things were going great!

Then it happened…and we were only on day two.  I was feeling loved, appreciated and totally comfortable with Beef Cake and thinking this could really work with him…until his ex-girlfriend, who is the mother of his 8-year old daughter, called and reality quickly set in.

Beef Cake had serious baby mamma drama!

*The crowd gasps with fear*

The volume on his cell phone was up, so I could hear everything the ex-girlfriend (of 10 years) was saying yelling.  And by the sound of it, man was she pissed off!

I knew the back-story on his ex-girlfriend. In my humble opinion, she was a nut job and there was no doubt in my mind that she was a jealous, self-centered, conniving, ignorant, selfish, possibly bi-polar, twit.

For example, one day she asked him to do her a favor and drop off her Vicodin prescription at the drug store.   She claimed she couldn’t manage to get to the drug store herself after going to the ER for a “toothache.”   So he went, because he’s such a sweet guy.  But, when Beef Cake got to the pharmacy and handed the prescription to the pharmacist the woman stopped him from leaving the pharmacy citing that the prescription was fraudulent.

You know this is going to be good….

Yup!  His awesome ex-girlfriend changed the dosage on the piece of paper from a “1” to a “7”.

Can you imagine?!  If someone had done that to me, that would have been the end of that relationship and I wouldn’t have cared if we shared a kid or not.  It would be OVER!

But for whatever reason, Beef Cake was tied to this crazy twit.  I sat on the bed trying to watch a movie, but instead watch Beef Cake pace the room as he tried dealing with her.  She was being a twat, because I could hear everything she was saying to him loud and clear.  He was trying to stay calm, but it was obvious that he was agitated and upset.    I had warned him that this sort of thing would happen.  I knew full she was going eventually going to catch on that he took off for three days to see me and obvious she would be calling at some point with some sort of “emergency” about his daughter.

Beef Cake was trying hard to not make a scene.  He didn’t say much because  she was yelling so much, he couldn’t even get a word in – and then like the nut job that she is, she hung up on him! Who does that?  And trust me, this was not some 30-something year old twit.  This was coming from a 45-year old twit!

Oh, and it gets better…

The following morning, his 8-year old daughter did the same thing.

Called, yelled at her father, and then hung up on him.

And, later that night, his mother – his own mother, did the same thing to him.

Called, yelled and hung up.

And much to my chagrin, he took it.

And each time I witnessed one of them hanging up on him, my heart sank.

I tried to talk to Beef Cake about his situation, trying to point out to him that all three women in his life had no boundaries and were treating him like he was their door mat.

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll just deal with it when I get home.”

*Sweeping it under the rug*

Even though his 8-year old daughter hung up on him the night before, dutifully he called the following morning to wish her a good day at school.  It was like her hanging up on him never happened.  And when he finally did get home a day later he never brought it up with her  or discussed her bad behavior about hanging up on daddy, because, naturally, I asked.

I was starting to realize that he was the parent who didn’t want to rock the boat with their own child.  Being liked was more important than being respected.  No discipline, because that might upset her – a recipe for disaster.

I adored Beef Cake, but now I had no respect for him.

Houston, we have a problem…

I’m thinking about all of this as I stood there in my kitchen a few days after I had gotten home from staying with Beef Cake for those three days.  On the radio,  John Mayer started to sing a song I was very familiar with…and then, my mind started to wander.

Again.

Not caring about the consequences and just going with my heart, I grabbed my cell phone, took a quick swig of my coffee, scrolled through my texts, until I found the message I received three weeks before and typed up my response to DC Dude.

Then, without any hesitation, I pushed the send button…

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Mortgage Guy: Part 3

(Continued from Mortgage Guy: Part 2)

Can you believe there’s a Mortgage Guy III? Well, neither can I….

He never replied to that last text and believe me, it bothered me a whole lot. I felt something wasn’t right so a week later while I was up in Catskill Mountains,  I wrote Mortgage Guy a rather nice email – short but to the point – I figured I should take the high road and just take a chance.

Part of that email read, “I haven’t heard from you, so maybe along the way you misconstrued something, or maybe I did – or maybe it’s something else altogether…… Regardless, here I am; being as open and as honest with you as possible, in hopes that we can end this on a positive note…….or start again.”

*poink*

Lobbing the ball over to his side of the court my thought process was if he didn’t respond, then I knew it wasn’t me. It was him.

Not me.

Him.

But he replied right back and we decided to see each other again.  Again, he said he would be busy during the weekend, but assured me that he would still have time to see me, “I promise, if you drive up this weekend, I will definitely show up this time.” 

It wasn’t an apology for the previous faux pas, but at least it was an acknowledgment.

We had already done the coffee thing, so I was thinking he was gong to want to see me Saturday night.  I send out an email to update the  Hen House and ask them to suggest something low-key, quiet, comfortable with good ambiance for coffee or a cocktail, (preferably the later).  Hell, so much had changed in Manchester since I lived there wasn’t familiar with anything anymore.

Julie, Brigitte and Denise all chime in via email and suggested the following: Karma (the hookah bar), Bedford Village Inn – Wine Bar, Unwine’d, Z on Elm Street, or Firefly.

10:12am

MORTGAGE GUY: Good morning, girl.  So, Starbucks tomorrow morning?

*blink-blink*

You’ve got to be kidding me!!!!  Ok……ok….ok…..I’m just going to go with it.

CARRIE:  Of course.  What time?

MORTGAGE GUY:  10am works for me.

CARRIE:  10am it is!

*smacks head*

And the saga continued that Saturday morning…

8:37am

Mortgage Guy: Can we definitely meet for coffee late this afternoon, maybe around 3:00pm?

I didn’t ask why, I just went with it….well, sort of. Whatever – I’ll just switch my schedule around for the day.

Carrie: You’re killing me. Okay…

2:29pm

Nathan:I just got a Valentine’s Day card from an awesome chick!

Carrie:You’re welcome! I’m just waiting on Mortgage Guy….our date, at Starbucks no less, was changed from 10am to this afternoon. What IS HIS DEAL?! Uhg!

Nathan: Strike!

Carrie: Technically, it’s strike #2. Remember when he flaked 2 weeks ago? I’m trying to be Zen, and non-judgmental, because Becky knows him and said he is a good guy. We’ll see…..

2:35pm

Carrie: Eh-hem. What are we doing, Goober?

Mortgage Guy: Be there in 20, Geek.

Mother……*bleep*!!!

Son of a *bleep*!!!

Carrie: Daum, you are on time…ok…because you said AROUND 3:00pm…maybe I should change your name to “Flake.” 🙂 Now I’ll be the one who is a little late…

Seriously! “Around” and “at” have two totally different meanings! God!

I switched into high gear, got ready, jumped into Red Rocket and drove into Starbucks.

I hate being late!

I walk into Starbucks, and he’s sitting at the first table in the corner.  We hug, and say hello and proceed to get in line for coffee.  While we are standing there, I turn to him and ask him if he’s a flake, and should I be concerned about his lack of attention – maybe has Attention Deficit Disorder…..jokingly of course!

C’mon, he deserved it!

“A-R-O-U-N-D…is not AT,” I explain to him. I was getting the feeling that he just didn’t appreciate who he had standing in front of him. (Not to sound too arrogant, but I didn’t notice any other 5’11” red heads knocking down his damn door!)

I can hear Kelly from Nashville say, “Oh, God. There she goes again…”

(Ok, I was a just a little irritated.)

We sit down and had a nice conversation for three hours, and during that time I decided to bring up the previous time we tried to get together, “What happened to you? I was so disappointed that I didn’t get to see you.”

“Well, I figured I’d let you cool off for a while, that’s why I didn’t reply to your text,” he says.

“What?! Let me cool off? What are you talking about? We made plans for Saturday, you didn’t call me, and then you send me a text on Sunday. What was that?”

(Don’t challenge the redhead dude, you won’t win.)

“You were obviously pissed off with me…”

I stop him and said, “Wait, I didn’t use any exclamation points, or use all caps…I just basically said, “The only thing you should be saying is, ‘I’m sorry I didn’t call you like I said I would.’ What? You didn’t think I deserved an apology? You flaked on me.”

“It’s not that, it’s just that you were so pissed off with me.”

“And, rightly so. I really wanted to see you again.”

I don’t get off on nailing people to the cross – an acknowledgement, and an apology, goes a LONG way with me. That’s all – it’s really simple. I don’t pout, I don’t hold grudges…just own it, so we can move on.

I did get my apology…and we quickly moved on.

At the beginning, things were kept light, but he’s blatant just like me – and said point-blank: “When are you moving back to New Hampshire? What’s the date?”

A date? That would probably be helpful, but I’m not going to move back until I get a job offer, or get laid off. Getting laid off is more than likely, but I’m not going to pull the trigger unless I have a job lined up. I’m taking one day at a time.

I have to say I was impressed with his conviction – he said he didn’t want to date a girl who lived out of state. He already had gone through a relationship where a girl who moved to Manchester for him.  They eventually broke up, and she blamed him for “screwing up her life” because she had moved to Manchester for him. He didn’t want to do it again.

Ok….excuse me, but really? You are going to label me into the same category as this twit you dated.  Really? Me? You get that impression that I’m moving for you? Ha!

Silly boys.  See, if he had gotten to know me, he would know that I had already moved for a boyfriend before- years ago, and I would never do it again.  No, regardless of whether or not he was in the picture, I was moving back.  It’s was not a matter of “if,” but a matter of “when.”  My Mamma needs me back in New Hampshire…..end of story.

“Basically, call me when you get settled in New Hampshire. We’ll keep in touch, but I just can’t date you, unless I know you are 100% available.”

“I get it. Being away from the person you are dating is torture. I get it. Really, but I just want to add this….that I dated someone in Los Angeles for three months. I got on a plane ever other Friday at 6:30pm, and came home at 11:45pm Sunday night. So, don’t tell me that a long distant relationship can’t work. THAT was long distance!  THIS is just a four hour drive away. I just want to explore the possibilities with you….I don’t think it’s a wise move to limit yourself – because I’m here right now, and I may not be when I move back. But…..if this is what you want, then I’m going to honor your wishes. It is what it is.”

It turned awkward after that, so I told him that we really didn’t have anything left to discuss, but that we’d stay in touch.

Yes, we’ll stay in touch…after all, I might need a mortgage loan soon!

Nathan:  How was the date with Mortgage Guy?

Carrie: Good….he apologized. *smiles* We talked for 3 hours. He’s interested, but doesn’t want to get involved until I’m settled back here, which I understand.

Nathan: Hmmmmm.

Carrie: He asked a few times during the date when I’m moving back….and seeing I can’t give him one, he “doesn’t want to date a girl who lives in out of state.” Hates long distant relationships.

Nathan: Well, when you get up here, you might be seeing someone else! Opportunity, usually only knocks once…

Carrie: That’s what I said!  I didn’t think it was a smart move on his part. I mean, people like me don’t grow on trees.

Nathan: Nope. You’re like a carrot, you come from the ground?

Carrie: Uhm…what kind of analogy is THAT? How about….I’m like a blue moon….I only come around once in a while!

Nathan: Like a groundhog?

Carrie: No, Nathan! Like a blue moon!


Beef Cake: Part 1

I know you all have been waiting for a new blog and you’ve probably been wondering what’s been going on with me lately, but you know how it is when you have something GOOD going on, and you don’t want to talk about it just in case you jinx it!  Well, I didn’t want to jinx THIS!

Today, February 15th, is a very important day for me, because today, I am finally meeting Beef Cake who, believe it or not, I met on Plenty of Crap-o-La six long weeks ago.

This is how I met Beef Cake: I was on POF helping my friend, with his profile reviewing with him his potential dating candidates.  Looking at profiles for my friend made me curious to see if there was any “new blood” out there for me. So, of course I went fishing. Reading those profiles, as painful as it can be sometimes, is still entertaining.  Funny, painful, entertaining…take your pick, but then I stumbled across this one profile that totally grabbed my attention. OK, let me clarify that…the picture of the tan and tattooed guy wading into the water in his bathing suit, caught my attention.  (Yes, I am shallow like that.  But dammit, I’m human, and might I also remind you that I’m a woman of a certain age, with certain needs that haven’t been met in a long, long, long, long time.)  So, naturally, yes, the good-looking, tan guy with  tattoos, muscles, a beautiful tan, muscles, tattoos, tattoos, sexy tattoos…..is going to grab my attention!

At least I’m honest!

This guy’s profile didn’t say too much about him, but his stats were pretty much what I was looking for.  He was age appropriate (40-years old), handsome (as far as I could tell), and tall enough….and had a hankering for ice cream!

*Thumb up!*

But then I realized he lived 1.5 hours away…..

*Thumb down!*

I couldn’t believe it.  Just my luck. The one guy who I thought had any potential and who really caught my attention would have to live 1.5 hours away. I was crushed. For a second, I  really though that The Dating Gods had answered my prayers.  

Discouraged and irritated, I did something I personally never do – and went against everything I preach:  I emailed him first!

——————————-

January 6, 2011

Oh, for Pete’s sake! Of course, the one guy who remotely catches my eye would live 1.5 hours away! (That would be you.) 

It figures…!

*smacks head*


Anyway, I have four words for you: Ben & Jerry’s Pumpkin Cheesecake.

~Carrie
——————————

Dear Carrie:

Thank you for making contact. Writer? You have my interest. Are you on retreat? Who are you reading now? I’m into Thomas Pynchon’s most recent novel Against the Day, but I read a wide variety of authors. No fluff please, however, if it doesn’t make me think or challenge me on some level, I’m all set.


The distance thing sucks, but I’m cool with starting as pen pals.


So POF is crazy. May I vent? I don’t know what you’re dealing with on your end, but I’m getting a lot of attention from sometimes leathery and often frightening women. I had one yesterday LUVYOUNGMEN or something like that, who opened right away with, “Please call me on the phone or chat,” and included her number and various IM screen names. I assume she also would have accepted a fax. Her main profile picture is literally just a shot of her cleavage. Then there’s this girl from Meriden who ends every single sentence with multiple exclamation points.
 I’ve emailed back and forth with her a couple of times and then she asked me out for tomorrow night.  No phone contact or anything. I never knew it was possible for someone to become clingy over the course of three emails. She must have this stuff forwarded to her phone, because every time I’ve written her she has written me back within three minutes.  I told her I was busy – my friend invited me over to his house for steak night.  Anyway, I email this to the girl and she writes back and I quote, “Darn!!! I missed out for Friday??? I like steak!!!  And I hang great with guys!!!  LMAO!!!!”

Deep breath. Then there’s the clearly insane forty-something year-old Asian woman who emailed me – her pictures are her in Frederick’s red lingerie and then one in a skintight mini-dress and heels holding some kind of Samurai sword. She unsurprisingly isn’t seeking a relationship or any kind of commitment. There are a couple of women I just said “Hi” back to and who have since written me two or three more times, as if their previous messages had become inexplicably lost in cyberspace on the way to me. So, I guess it is entertaining; I try and take it with a grain of salt.


Do you remember Ben N Jerry’s Makin’ Whoopie Pie? I would take it out and let it sit on the counter, get a little melty; you know the consistency, eat maybe a fourth of the pint and put it back. I’d be going about whatever I was doing and apparently the heroin or crack or whatever they fortified it with, would call that particular center of my brain and back to the freezer I’d go. I’d do that two, three times and then just give up and smash it to the bottom of the pint. All this ice cream talk aside I am in good shape, and work to stay there. I just don’t let it control my ice cream habit.  🙂


Well, that was more long-winded than I anticipated.


Catch you soon…

————————————-

He did sign his name, but I purposefully left it off, because remember…

We don’t name the puppy  or mention his name, unless we know we are going to keep the puppy.  (For obvious reasons, I nicknamed the new puppy, “Beef Cake.”)

Beef Cake and I went back and forth with several emails, and he always signed off every email with the phrase, “Catch you soon.”  I liked it.  It was a nice touch, and it made me smile every time I read it.

This is how it all started – with emailing – simple, long, honest, emails – and when I say “long” I mean LONG!  It was a good sign.  We had a lot to discuss, but we never really spoke about the obvious stuff people usually like to talk about like past relationships, etc. No, he was a little more tactful than that, which didn’t go unappreciated by me.  After all, being on the dating circuit for years, one can get a little tired of hearing about other people’s life stories and then having to participate in playing “Twenty Questions.”  Dating shouldn’t feel like a dang interview!

For the first four weeks, we would send each other an email every day. I’ll admit, it made my day, every day.  It was so nice to wake up every morning knowing that I would have a beautifully written new email from him.  

He clearly knew what he was doing.  He was taking his time and seduced me with his detailed stories and vast vocabulary skills.  (Throw a word at me that I don’t know the meaning of, and I swear it makes my heart beat a little faster.)

After a month, and a hundred or so emails later, we finally agreed to exchange phone numbers.  FINALLY! Beef Cake would call me a few times a day, and we would talk and talk.  He was easy – an open book and interesting. On one particular evening, we  actually ended up talking for five hours.  

FIVE!

HOURS! 

A few days later, after sharing with him a stressful situation I was dealing with, Beef Cake was thoughtful enough to send me care package in the mail.  In the box were all lavender-scented products. I couldn’t believe it.  When was the last time I had received a gift from a guy?!  Who does this?  Oh, that’s right, I know, someone who isn’t jaded by today’s dating world because he is fresh out of a 10-year relationship!

He wasn’t jaded like everyone else!  

He still knew a woman’s worth!

He still knew how to pursue a woman in the right way.

He was scoring big points. 

*DING!*

So, here we are, the day after Valentine’s Day and Beef Cake and I  are ready to meet for the first time.  We’ve been planning this for the past two weeks and I’m glad we waited this long, although I have to admit that it hasn’t been easy, but I was determined to go by my own advice! Take your time, don’t rush into things – that’s what I’m always preaching, isn’t it?

At the six week mark of pure talking and emailing, and the exchange of numerous (of course PG rated) photos and stories, we are now more than ready to meet.   I’m nervous and anxious, but I’m more than ready to go through with our all-day date we have planned, which is meeting at the half-way mark in the Berkshire Mountains. 

Wish me luck!

 (What? Did you really think I wouldn’t show you a picture of Beef Cake?)

*SWOON!*


Mortgage Guy: Part 2

(Continued from Mortgage Guy)

I’m so disgusted – I could spit!

Last weekend, as you all know, I met up with Mortgage Guy on Saturday afternoon at Starbucks. Everything went well – it was explained to him that I lived in the New York City area and my reasons for wanting to move back to New Hampshire. That was made crystal clear to him.

After our initial meeting at Starbucks, I went to the Hen House and he went off with his daughter for the night.  We were texting all night – excited we met each other and looking forward to the following weekend when he would have more time to spend with me.

Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday, we go back-and-forth with the emailing, but no phone call.  Again!

Thursday, I didn’t hear from him, so before I left work to drive back to New Hampshire I sent him this:

CARRIE: Did you guys get snow up there today? We got a few inches here in NJ/NY…it took me 1.5 hours to drive 12 miles to work! NJ/NY people can’t drive for sh*t! So, how are you? Today is my Friday! Totally ready to get out of here!

MORTGAGE GUY: Drive safe sexy, we only got an inch so far. When are you up here? Tomorrow? Maybe we can get together Sunday?

Sunday? Really?

CARRIE: I can’t Sunday, I am going to Laconia to watch my nephew play hockey at 3:00pm.

MORTGAGE GUY: Maybe Saturday we can meet up again at Starbucks.

Starbucks? Really? I thought we already did that. What about Friday night or Saturday night?

*takes deep breath*

Instead of replying, I called him during my drive to New Hampshire, hoping to firm up plans for the weekend.

He doesn’t answer, and I leave a message.

I don’t hear from him until the following night, Friday.

MORTGAGE GUY:  Welcome home, I’m in for the night with my daughter. I’ll call you tomorrow to see if we can maybe meet up for a coffee again. Have a good night.

CARRIE:  Thank you – Saturday afternoon should work.

Now, I’m pretty sure that you think I’m going to tell you that he called and we met up, right?

Nope!

MORTGAGE GUY: Have fun today at the hockey game.

I text Julie to vent and tell her the situation.

JULIE: Next! He isn’t doing anything to make plans with you. Don’t let him call the shots. This is your time. NEXT!

CARRIE: So flippin’ irritated. I’m ignoring him. He owes me an apology for not doing what he said he would – a little common courtesy goes a long way in my book.

JULIE: More than that! He would have made time for you!

CARRIE: Ding! Ding!

Needless to say, I was completely irritated. It’s not that I didn’t get to meet up with Mortgage Guy, it’s the fact that he didn’t call when he said he would. If he couldn’t meet up, then fine.  THEN JUST TELL ME. 

I truly loathe rude people.

So, I thought I would ignore his text, but then the fiery red head came out in me.

Screw it!

CARRIE: Really? I think the only thing you should be texting is, “I’m sorry I didn’t call you like I said I would.” A little common courtesy goes a long way in my book.

SEND!

So, for every one of you who think that being single is fun, and that dating is easy this is the crap that I have to put up with!

Dating isn’t supposed to be this difficult!  And, I would just like to know one thing…

Where is MY Justin Matisse?!

“Dancing’s just a conversation between two people. Talk to me.” ~ Justin Matisse in the movie Hope Floats