Trixie and the Long Distance Dude

Have you ever met someone, and just instantly clicked?  That’s exactly how I felt about Trixie when I met her.  Just like that, we clicked.   Okay, there might have been some alcohol involved, as we did meet one night at a trendy bar.  We were introduced by a mutual friend, who had wanted the both of us to meet for months.

I knew a little background on Trixie before we met.  First and foremost, she was single, and had been for a long time.  Of course, that piqued my interest and I knew that somewhere during our evening our evening together, I was going to find out why.

It just happened to be within five minutes of meeting.

“Why do you think you are still single?”

The suspense was killing me, because after spending five minutes with Trixie, I couldn’t understand why she didn’t have a boyfriend.  What was there not to love?

Trixie had a beautiful sparkle in her eyes (it might have been the alcohol), a gift of gab (also could have been the alcohol), and she was a very talented floral designer and had a good job (nothing to do with alcohol).  Plus, she was attractive and very easy-going.   Why she was single?  What guy didn’t want a fun woman with a good career?

I watched her gaze out into space, as she struggled to come up with an answer.  I knew it was a hard question and one that a lot of single women couldn’t answer, so I lobbed her an easier question.

“I realize that’s a difficult question.  So, let’s start with the last guy you dated.  What happened to him?”

Of course there was a guy.  There always is, and, in fact, he had been a friend of the family.

Sounded like a good start to me!

He grew up in the same area as she did.

They share the same roots.  Good-good!

 He was a little older.

Never a bad thing…

 They hadn’t seen each other in over 20 years.

It could be a good thing.  It could be a bad thing.

 “Go on,” I told her, feeling extremely curious as to where she was going with her story.

She had a crush on him as a teenager.  He was friends with her older brother, so she admired him for years, from far away.  Then eventually got reunited on Facebook.

Ah, good ol’ Facebook!

But he lived in Florida and she lived in Connecticut.

Uh, oh.  He was geographically undesirable, which meant the odds were going to be stacked against them from the get-go.

But, despite the distance, they spoke every day for several weeks, until he finally announced that he wanted to come to Connecticut…

EXCELLENT!

…so he could “take her out for coffee.”

Wait…

What????

Take her out for coffee???

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“Stop right there, Trixie.  That was your first clue.  Why was he willing to travel all that way from Florida, but only to take you out for coffee?  What the hell, chick?  Is that a new code-word or something?”

“I know, I know….”

“Listen Trixie, what he should have been saying is that he wanted to spend some quality time with you, or something to that effect.  Coffee?  Are you kidding me?!  I’m sorry, I interrupted you.  Go on.”

Hadn’t we all been there before?  The newness of a relationship sweeps in, and woosh!  There goes all of our common sense and sensibility, just like that.  So, who could blame her?  She was just like me, and you, and everyone else out there, single and struggling to find love.   Trixie obviously was getting caught up in the attention she was getting from this guy and wasn’t thinking with a clear head because she let him come to Connecticut.

She goes on to tell me that it had been years since a guy had struck her fancy, and even longer since she had sex.  In fact, she was so starved for affection that any tender touch would send her reeling.  Poor, poor Trixie.  She was just like the rest of us:  Overly sensitive and starved for affection.  It was so bad in her case, that she even put her hot yoga instructor on notice when she could no longer even handle having him adjust her yoga poses.  Even that was sending her hormones into overdrive.

Speaking of hot, our bartender came over with our second round of drinks and placed them on the bar.  With his velvety, Costa Rican voice, he asked if he could get us anything else.  For a split second I wondered if it would be worth pulling him into the conversation, and get his male perspective on our conversation, but it was a short-lived as Trixie continued along with her story right after she took a sip of her Martini.

“You’re not going to believe this, Carrie,” she said, gently putting her drink back on the bar.  “He said to me, ‘I thought we are both adults…’”

“He said what?!” I was clearly irritated with this guy already.

blinking

That line had really made its rounds in the dating world, because I distinctly remember, a few guys saying the same thing to me.  Was this the latest and greatest way to get laid these days?  “Hey man, use this line if a woman starts pulling away when you are making the moves on her.  Women can’t say no!”

So, here it is, the big red flag that should have stopped Trixie in her tracks and should have felt like a big slap upside her pretty, little head.  Instead of coffee/dinner/getting-to-know-one-another/let-me-invest-some-time-into-this-relationship, they had sex.   And you know what happens when you have sex without solidifying the relationship first?

GAME OVER!

And wouldn’t you know that dude flew back home to Florida and Trixie didn’t hear much from him after that.  Shocker, right?

From an outsider, I realize that it’s wicked easy to see all the warning signs.  But when your hormones are ruling, not only your head, but also your heart, nothing is going to stop you, unless you have super-human self-control.  Which, most of us don’t have.  At least, when it comes to sex.

“So, how did you guys leave it?  Did you hear from him again?”

“Oh, yes.”

“Yes?”

“Yes.  We finally spoke and he told me he needed some time to think, and needed some space.”

And there it was, the “I need some space” because I’m full of shit line.

“So, I gave him space.  And, you know what else?  About two weeks later he changed his Facebook status from “Single” to “In a relationship.”

“Interesting.  I wonder if his new girlfriend knew that he had his dick in you just two weeks earlier.”

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“Dammit girl, I was just about to tell you that guys who say, ‘I need some space,’ usually have someone else already in the picture.   What a douche bag.”

I didn’t want her to feel like she was alone, so I quickly gave her the cliff notes on DC Dude.  “We had reconnected after a year or so.  Things were going well.  Plans were made that I would fly down to see him for a long weekend.  Only a few weeks before my scheduled visit, he went on a 10-day trip to Florida and didn’t even tell me about it.  The only reason I found out, is that he answered his phone while he was in Florida.  Not quite sure if there was another girl on his radar or not, but for those 10 days, I sure as hell wasn’t.  Shitty, right?”

MORAL OF THE STORY:  If there is one thing I know, it’s that when a guy anyone says they need their space, it’s never good.  You should consider the relationship over.  Finito. No explanation needed, because there are only two reasons why a guy would say they need space  and let me point out that only cowards use that line.  The cowards who do use that chicken-shit line, say it because they don’t have the balls to say, “I’m just not that into you and I don’t have the balls to tell you,” or “I’ve been seeing someone else and I still don’t have the balls to tell you.”

Again, keep your dignity intact.  Always take the high road and just gracefully bow out of the relationship.  Shut the door.  Delete their number.  Block them.  Whatever it is, save face and, for the love of God, don’t do anything you’ll regret later!  Just gracefully wish the other woman luck, because she is the one left in the dark…

 

choir

….and you, my dear, have seen the light!

~Carrie

 

Next Time I’ll Pass on the Percocets

The summer of 2012 was an interesting time for me.  There were two contestants on board, the Painter and the the Smoker.

The Painter was hot, but he wasn’t asking me out. That was a problem, because I didn’t want a hook-up, I wanted a boyfriend.

Considering that the Smoker had asked me to be his date to a wedding, the Painter got put on the back burner, and put on simmer.

Despite the wedding date with The Smoker was as long as it was, I still enjoyed myself immensely.   It even made me feel what it was like to have a significant other again.

~ We mingled.

~ We canoodled.

~ We held hands.

~ We laughed.

And even though we enjoyed our date together, whatever we had quickly went down the drain as soon as he read the blog post about our awesome date.

I couldn’t understand why he would be mad.  I kept him anonymous, as I always do with anyone I write about, and I thought that the blog post was fun, positive, and kinda flattering to him.   Wasn’t it?

But besides that when his brother first introduced me to him as “the girl who blogs about all her dates,” wasn’t that a giveaway that I’d most likely be blowing about our date?

When me and the Smoker discussed the fact that I blogged about him and why, was the very moment I realized he didn’t get me.

He wouldn’t get me, either.

And if he didn’t get me, then it would never work.

That’s when the Painter got put back on the front burner, where my lust for him once again started to come to a boil.

But I knew that having lustful thoughts, would only mean trouble.  On top of that, the Painter told me I couldn’t write about him at all.   I couldn’t win!

Painter was a bad boy and as Oprah Winfrey always said, “Bad boys are bad for a reason.”

Instead of going with my intuition, I kept reverting back to that first time me and the Painter took an afternoon walk in the woods, where he opened up to me and I thought it was the beginning of a friendship.  He even praised me for being so easy to talk to.

I kept hoping for that day to repeat itself, but it never happened.  He only wanted to hook-up and nothing more.  How do I know this?  Because he told me so.

I should have been done with him right then and there.  Instead, I justified a hook-up by listing in my head all the reasons why it wouldn’t be such a bad idea and why I shouldn’t feel guilty:

  • It would be a good way to pass the time while waiting for Mr. Right, as it was turning into a long, drawn-out daunting experience.
  • I missed having sex.
  • I am a grown woman who can make her own decisions.
  • Sex is fun.
  • SEX!

Why couldn’t I just go and have sex?  I always practiced safe sex, so why not?

I needed help with this question so who better to ask than my friend PPD, who had given me the nickname “Sex and the City.”   Her advice was exactly this:

“Girl, I’m going to change your name in my phone, because you can’t be ‘Sex and the City,’ if you ain’t getting none.”

Little did she know, I hadn’t been getting any in a while.  I wanted to change that, but first I had to stop the constant battle with myself in my head.

And just like that, my decision was made for me:  I needed knee surgery–and I needed it like yesterday.

Was I starting to see a pattern here?

Was there a common theme to all of my dating madness and frustrations?

Oh, you want to have a summer fling with Mr. Hot Painter Guy? 

How about a tall order of knee surgery instead?  

For two years, my knee had been giving me problems and causing me a lot of pain.

Fortunately, after seeing a few specialists, they there was a simple solution to making my knee pain go away.

All I needed was surgery.

The moment I booked my surgery, my priorities on dating and hooking up changed.  All of a sudden, the excitement of having a summer fling quickly faded and meaningless sex was, just meaningless, and pointless.

What I really wanted was my boyfriend (who, clearly, didn’t exist) drive me the day of my surgery and take care of me.  That’s what mattered.  Not some hot guy, who I knew would never in a million years be there for me.

I kept thinking to myself, didn’t I deserve better?

Wasn’t a hook-up just setting myself up for more disappointments and frustration?

The idea of having surgery made me feel a little panicky.  Anyone who had been single as long as I have, will understand that facing something like this alone, completely and utterly sucks.

Who would drive me?

Who would take care of me?

Who make sure I am okay when I’m all hopped up on drugs and uttering nonsense?

Who would take off work for 24 hours and watch over me?

Who could I trust?

Who?

The day of my surgery, I quickly found out that it would be my brother Nathan.

The day was pretty easy–at least for me it was.  I checked in, kicked Nathan out of my hospital room, changed, and I passed out as soon as the nurse administered my drugs.  I don’t remember anything after that.

When I woke up in my recovery room, Nathan was there waiting for me.

“Nathan, how long have you been waiting here?”

“A while,” he said looking at me like he saw something he didn’t like. “Umm….you’re starting to look a little green, Carrie.”

I felt green and very nauseous.  I looked over at my nurse, who was also in the room with us, and before I could barf all over the place, she administered something into my IV which made me instantly go back to sleep.  Unfortunately, for Nathan, it also made me go back to sleep for another hour and a half.

It was a long day for Nathan.

Once I was awake and talking again, the nurse showed me and Nathan how the inflatable ice-pack contraption, Velcro’d around my knee, worked.  The ice-pack wrapped around my knee connected to a long tube that ran from the blue cooler sitting on the floor to the Velcro ice-pack.  The instructions were easy.  If I felt my knee starting to heat up, all I had to do was raise the cooler above my knee.  It was a brilliant invention.

When I got home, I quickly found out that the hassle of walking around with a water cooler was actually well worth it.  The feeling of the ice-cold water settling in and around my hot knee was incredibly pleasant, but in a weird way.  I remember telling Nathan that it felt like a peeing-your-pants sensation every time I raised the cooler.

It was the only analogy I could come up with.

The first few days following my surgery weren’t all that bad.  I was taking my pain killers as directed; every 4-6 hours to avoid feeling any kind of pain, not that I was actually having pain.

My doctor encouraged me to walk as much as possible and, as long as I had my trusty ice-cooler attached to my knee, I didn’t have any problems.

Until day four.

vicodin-addiction

Day four, my knee was feeling pretty good, but the rest of me was not.  I felt horrible and sluggish. In fact, I didn’t even want to be in my own skin.  I felt like crap.

Literally.

Four days of pain killers apparently will do that to you.

How was I to know?

I decided to tell Nathan.

“Nathan, I haven’t pooped in four days.”

“Oh, God…..”

“And I had Chinese food two days ago.  I feel like crap, Nathan, but I can’t take one.”

Big lip

“Okay, I can bring something over for you.  I have some supplements that will definitely make you go.  Or, better yet, I can steal some of my roommate’s tea, which is called ‘Ballerina Tea’.” ballerina-tea

“I’ve never heard of it.  Whatever you’ve got, just bring it over,” I pleaded.

“Well, I don’t know if they call it Ballerina Tea because you’ll be thin as a ballerina or because you’ll be tip-toeing to the bathroom like one.”


MORAL OF THE STORY:
   Sometimes life hands you an unfortunate event to bring us clarity.  In my case, it was having to go through something scary, like having my knee surgically Roto-Rootered.  The recovery time would take weeks, therefore, any hopes of having a summer fling got ruined.

I thought I was having bad luck again in the Dating Department.

But I wasn’t having bad luck.  Actually, the surgery was a God-send. In the nick of time, I received some much needed clarity on what was truly more important in my life.  It  wasn’t having a temporary fix on my love life.  What I wanted, and have always wanted, was to find someone who, like my brother, I could really count on and who really loved me, for me.  I also realized that counting on something unnatural just to make myself feel better, like pain killers and hooking-up, would only cause unpleasant side effects that in the end, would only make me feel like crap.

NEXT!

~Carrie

Nobody Likes a Bitter Betty

Remember our bitter friend who wrote that atrocious Plenty of Fish dating profile, “The Best Bitter Plenty of Fish Profile“?  Apparently, she didn’t have much luck with the original, so she came up with a new profile–same message, just different wording:

Looking for an honest, clean man who doesn’t look like Mr. Clean. Sorry, but bald does NOT do it for me. No hair, no response. Not looking for a friend with benefits, looking for a friend with class, integrity, ethics, loyalty, humor, and once again, hair. A guy who likes to stay fit and active, lives a healthy lifestyle, and likes do fun things. A guy not hung up on himself or obsessed with his career and worldly possessions. A guy who works to live, not lives to work. I am finally free as a butterfly and I am not looking for a stifling commitment by any means, but I certainly will not share a man with another woman or women. I have too much dignity and self-respect for that and I’m looking for a guy with integrity who’s looking for the same. Not interested in mama’s boys, drunks, or sports fanatics. Mutual chemistry is an absolute must and I will not settle for less.

No picture then I will rightfully assume your are an adulterer or scuz and I want no part of either.

NO PICTURE, NO BALLS, NO HAIR, NO RESPONSE! NO RESPONSE, NO INTEREST!

Please do not waste my precious time or yours writing me to give me your unsolicited advice and/or opinion of my profile. I don’t need or want your two cents. I want to attract a real man with a backbone and a sense of humor, not a boring wus, so my profile is as I want it.

First Date Something fun and spontaneous, not too fussy. I wish I lived during the good old days when romancing a woman meant something and dating wasn’t just a means to an end. Remember, it’s not how much you spend on the date, it’s how well you spend it.

Dating a real woman is a lot different from a fake whore. It may be harder with a decent women in the beginning, but it will get easier once you prove yourself to her. In contrast, it’s very easy with a dirty whore in the beginning, but as you guys all know too well, it only gets harder and harder.

That was a few months ago.  I guess she had the same outcome, because it has been revised again.  And, again, it’s an epic fail.  If she doesn’t shape up soon, this will be her:

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If I was her dating coach, this is what I would have recommended for edits:

Trying to start a new year off on a positive note, so please read my profile to see what I am looking for before you waste your time and mine. I am looking for the right man who clicks with me. If he’s right, I’ll know it when I see him. Not looking for someone to control me, nor do I desire to control anyone. I like my space and value my freedom. I am very active and would like to find someone with a similar energy level. Someone fit, who loves the beach and outdoors, loud concerts, campfires, and just being content doing nothing with me. I’ve been a longdistance runner all of my life.  I’m not necessarily looking for a running partner, as that is my solace, but I wouldn’t mind a challenge here and there.  I love trail running, especially in the fall.  You never ever have to twist my arm to go to the beach or jump in the ocean. I absolutely love boogie boarding.  I like my music full blast! Got to be able to handle that and my singing!   Sarcasm is my specialty and you must have a thick skin and great sense of humor to click with this Gemini free spirit.  Music, food, and photography are my passions.  I like to keep up on current events and need a man who can not only keep up with me physically, but mentally as well. I like engaging conversation with substance. not style.I want someone who will listen to me and not just hear me. Mama’s boys turn me right off and I’ve found that many men have their sisters as surrogate mothers these days. I am 100% Italian and family is paramount to me.but I know too well about mama’s boys and Peter Pans.At some point in your life you have to grow up and cut the apron strings and put a good woman first in your life. That is no disrespect to your mother or sister, it’s being real man. I admire hard workers, but abhor workaholics. There needs to be a balance in life. A man can have all the riches his career can afford him, but if he has no family of his own who love him to surround him on his deathbed, he will die a complete and total failure in life. I know what I’m looking for and won’t settle for less. Drunks need not apply!

To add insult to injury, she changed her profile name and uses a not-so-nice reference about her ex-husband.  She just can’t get out of her own way.  Seriously, I don’t know if I want to slap this woman or hug her.

cher

MORAL OF THE STORY:  If you are that bitter about your divorce, then go get therapy.  It’s that simple.  Go fix yourself.   Do not pass “Go,” do not collect two-hundred dollars, and certainly, do not even bother with dating until you deal with your anger issues.  It’s women like Bitter Betty who need to be taken down a few notches, by having a therapist help them take a long hard look at themselves, so that they can join the rest of us here who live in reality.

~Carrie

Dumping Someone Can Be, Well, Like Taking a Dump

Over the years I have learned that when it comes to giving advice women and men can be very different.  Women tend to need more emotional support, than men.  Women need to slice it, dice it, chop it, and sometimes mince it down to every tiny detail. Their problems come from an emotional standpoint and their sentences usually start with “I feel…” or “Can you believe…”

I consider myself to be highly sensitive. Empathizing comes very natural to me. Having that ability to feel other people’s emotions can be a blessing and a curse sometimes, because it’s not fun to feel someone grief or sadness, when it’s not your own.  However, when it comes to helping people get through their issues, it can come in real handy.   It’s exhausting at times, but on the upside, it makes me a great friend.  In my circle of friends, I’m known as the go-to person for advice.

Got dumped?

Call Carrie.

Got cheated on?

Call Carrie.

You want to break up with someone?

Call Carrie.

I’m also great with relating to men and their issues dealing with the opposite sex.  I’ve learned that men handle their issues much more different than women when it comes to problem solving.  Men like the straight-up solutions – no fluff.   They don’t need their feelings acknowledged.  They really don’t want to talk or have long drawn out discussions–they just want the answer to their whatever they are dealing with.

Having watched my brother and my cousin use their quick wit and sophomoric analogies to make their point over the years, I caught on how men typically communicated.  It came down to a simple formula:  Take some humor, add some wit, mix it in with a good analogy and voila!  Instant guy talk.

I’ll give you an example.  Last week, John sent me a text saying that he wanted to break-up with his year-long relationship with his girlfriend, but was putting it off because he didn’t know how she would react.  Who could blame him for being apprehensive about it?

Not me.

Break-ups suck. I’ve been through a few myself and to me they are probably one of the worst things most adults have to go through in our life time.

Think about it:  Which would you rather have to go through?

A)  Root canal.

B) Stand up in front of class/work and give an oral presentation that you’re not prepared.

C) Break up with someone you’ve been seeing for a year.

D) Firing someone at work.

At, least when you fire someone you can pass it off as being “just business,” whereas having to break-up is all personal.  And most likely the other person isn’t going to take it very well.  That alone is difficult to deal with.

Will they yell?

Will they cry?

Will they beg?

Will they argue?

Will they find a stick of dynamite and hook it up to your car engine?

It doesn’t matter what you think might happen.  Breakups are just like everything else in life, you just have to face it–head on.

I decided to call John in regards to his dilemma, because I knew there was no way I could help explain to John what he needed to do in regards to his breakup over text.

In the middle of my little “you just have to do it” lecture, I realized that he wasn’t buying it.  He needed me to explain to him using an analogy that he could relate to and what guy can’t relate to poop?

Taking a poop

Okay, not really poop itself, but the act of taking a poop.

“John, you are obviously not happy and avoiding the confrontation. I get that. It’s normal. But you have to do it. Think of it this way:  Breaking up with someone is like taking a big poop….”

“What?!” he said as he started to laugh.

“You heard me, breaking up is like taking a big poop!”

“I can’t believe you just said that.”

“I can’t believe I just said that.”

“Don’t laugh, I’m being serious here,” I said making myself laugh.  “Dumping someone is like taking a dump. Think about it. You know you have do it–maybe you’re scared because it might hurt.  Maybe you just don’t know what might come out of you.  Or like that poop when you’re stuck at the office, you’re feeling anxious and apprehensive because you don’t want someone to walk in while you’re in the stall.

But, John, here is the thing; just like a break-up, you know you have to go do it, and, eventually, you’re going to have to face that fact.  But once it’s done, you’re going to feel soooooo much better.  Am I wrong?”

stall

“Oh, my God…”

“Stop laughing at me, you know I’m right. Take that big dump! Walk into the men’s room, John, and feel confident, because you know soon it will be all over!

He sounded much more confident about breaking up with his girlfriend when we hung up, and agreed that I was right.  He just needed to get it over with.

The next day I heard from John again via text:

JOHN: She took it pretty well…of course she asked if booty calls were an option…

CARRIE:  And, you said…

JOHN: Sure, why not?

CARRIE:  WHAT! Oh, my God, what am I going to do with you…!!!!

Well, I guess that’s going to be my next topic:  “The Danger and Pitfalls of the Post-Break-Up Booty Call.”

~Carrie

The Best Bitter Plenty of Fish Dating Profile

If there is one lesson I have learned when it comes to online dating, it’s that you should never write anything negative in your profile.  A good profile is written honestly and should be written while you are in a happy state of mind.  The rule of thumb is that if you are a happy place, you will attract happy people.  It’s as simple as that.

I’ve had many people ask me to help with their dating profiles and most of them just need a little tweaking.

The first things I recommend:  Less is more.  If I see 22 pictures posted on your profile, I will suggest taking most of them down, because all you really need is a close-up, a full body shot and one of your favorites for good measure.   That’s all you need, just three pictures.   The problem with too many pictures is that people get caught up in putting themselves display, thinking that more is more.  I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but it’s not.  Less is more.  A profile is an introduction, not your life story.  Leave them wanting more.

My friend John sent me the link to a profile that is a complete nightmare.  She breaks all the rules of attracting a good man.  Clearly, she is bitter and angry about something and has only embarrassed herself by posting such blatant disrespect and disdain towards the opposite sex.

I couldn’t red-line her profile, so I decided to just dissect her jaw-dropping comments with my own comments:

Is there just ONE cute and humble man out there?

About Me

Is there ONE handsome, sexy, clean looking guy out there with hair, a sense of humor, and some integrity who is not a materialistic workaholic braggart, mama’s boy, drunk, whoremoneger, Godless heathen, bald goateed tattooed freak, or insane sports fanatic? In a nutshell, a real man who is NOT an ***hole? Crickets…

I assume you got the part where she doesn’t like bald men?  Because clearly they are just so ugly and nasty looking.  Take Dwayne Johnson for instance:

Dwayne Johnson

Yuck!  He just looks so dirty with all those tattoos.  Wimpy even and certainly uninviting….

*FANNING MYSELF* 

And what about Ed Harris?????  He defines sexy baldness–at any age.

Who wouldn’t want to get naked with Jason Statham?

*PURRING*

jason-statham

You’re going to tell me that she would kick Boris out of bed?

Boris-Kodjoe-a

Well in my fantasy dream world I am looking for an honest, attractive, clean man who doesn’t look like Mr. Clean. Sorry, but bald does NOT do it for me. Why do we get inundated with what we are least attracted to? I honestly think bald men can’t read. No hair, no response. Not looking for a friend with benefits, looking for a friend with class, integrity, ethics, loyalty, humor, and once again, hair. A guy who likes to stay fit and active, lives a healthy lifestyle, and likes do fun things. A guy not hung up on himself or obsessed with his career and worldly possessions.

Translation:  She hates her job and has nothing to show for her miserable existence here on Earth, and people who have worked hard and have nice things intimidate her, which makes her feel uncomfortable.

A guy who works to live, not lives to work. I am finally free as a butterfly and I am not looking for a stifling commitment by any means, but I certainly will not share a man with another woman or women. I have too much dignity and self-respect for that and I’m looking for a guy with integrity who’s looking for the same. Mutual chemistry is an absolute must and I will not settle for less.

Did she just say “stifling commitment”?  Yet, she’s not willing to share a man with another woman.   Are you confused yet, because I am!

No picture then I will rightfully assume your are an adulterer or scuz and I want no part of either.

Can someone please define “scuz” for me, because I thought that was a short hair style for men.  No?

NO PICTURE, NO BALLS, NO HAIR, NO RESPONSE! NO RESPONSE, NO INTEREST!

ALSO, WHEN CREATING A DATING PROFILE, THERE IS NO NEED TO YELL, AND WHEN YOU USE ALL CAPS, IT MEANS YOU ARE YELLING.  It’s also rude and not very lady-like, and, especially, not very POSITIVE POLLYANNA.

Please do not waste my precious time or yours writing me to give me your unsolicited advice and/or opinion of my profile. I don’t need or want your two cents. I want to attract a real man with a backbone and a sense of humor, not a boring wus, so my profile is as I want it.

“Unsolicited advice and/or opinion of my profile”…but she feels free to tell you exactly what she thinks about certain types of men.  Got it.  Well, at least she has changed her political tune, because John told me her profile used to have “no traitorous liberals” inserted everywhere on her profile.

Maybe this is progress? 

I doubt it.  This woman doesn’t need to be dating, she needs a psychiatrist.  She is beyond angry–she’s bitter.  And once again, I will quote my brother, in case all of you have forgotten:  “Dating is supposed to be fun.”

Hopefully, this will be a good reminder to everyone how you do not want to come across in your dating profile.  For those who do want some help, feel free to send me an email at TheRedHeadedWriter@gmail.com.

~Carrie

How to Spot a Crazy Person – Crazy is, As Crazy Does

So much to say about this Facebook thread…

…yet, so little time…

*SHAKES HEAD IN DISGUST*

Tattoo of Boyfriend's Face - Facebook Feed

Tattoo girl needs to get a hobby, or a job, or….how about some new girlfriends, who don’t enable her obsessive/delusional behavior???  I think that would be a good start.

Poor Austin…

Next!

PS: Chick, clean up your room!

Happy Birthday, No I’m Not Having an Affair with Your Boyfriend!

Lit candles

I have a very close friend of mine, who I have known for over 20 years.  The other day I realized that her birthday was fast approaching and that she hadn’t announced any plans yet.  Like most women, I knew she would probably enjoy some sort of surprise birthday party and if I could collaborate with her new boyfriend, all the better.  But first, I had to make sure her boyfriend didn’t already make plans for her yet.

“What are you plans for your birthday, Lisa?”

“Nothing as of yet.  It depends on what my boyfriend has planned.”

I knew Lisa’s relationship was fairly new, so in order to take some of the pressure off of her boyfriend, of only a few months, I thought it might be a good idea to plan something with him.  A few days later, while Lisa was away with him, I texted her to give her boyfriend my phone number, which she did without any hesitation.  She didn’t even ask why, she just gave it to him and then she gave me his.

You know, in this day and age where we have cell phones that automatically lock and need a password, it is a good idea to have the new boyfriend’s phone number just in case.  Think about it.  What if they got into an accident and your friend ended up in the hospital and her parents didn’t live close by?  Who do you think she would want to be notified?

This is not what this post is about, but still I think it’s a good point.

Getting back to my story, the following day, Lisa’s boyfriend and I were exchanging text messages until I decided I couldn’t text anymore.  If we were going to plan a surprise party, we needed to talk, not text.   We came up with a plan and with the help of some of her other  friends, we all got the word out about the surprise party.  Four days later we surprised Lisa with a gathering of her friends for drinks and dancing at a local bar. People had fun and Lisa was over joyed that she had such good friends who would collaborate together without her knowing.

Points for us.

So, why am I bringing this up?   Because arranging a party with your friend’s boyfriend should never be a problem, right?   We are all adults and shouldn’t it be effortless and painless as it was the other day with Lisa’s boyfriend?  I think it should.

Like easy-peasy.

But, as I have recently found out, not all friendships are built on trust and, unfortunately, sometimes innocent intentions can be misconstrued…twisted…discombobulated even when those intentions come from someone like me.

For instance, a few months ago, I also tried collaborating with my friend Lulu’s boyfriend, but unlike Lisa’s party, this one didn’t go so well.   Granted, I didn’t ask Lulu directly for Matt’s number, because I was already friends with Matt on Facebook. To keep her little surprise under the radar, I sent him an email asking for his number.   Lulu didn’t mind that Matt and I were Facebook friends, so why would she mind that I was contacting him, right?

Wrong.

Now, please keep in mind that Lulu and I had not known each other as long as Lisa and I did.  Lulu and I had only been friends a year and a half – possibly two years.  I realize it was nothing compared to the 25 years I have known Lisa, but when you click with someone, you just click.   I am one to trust someone until they give me a reason not to, just like I do in my dating life.  I can’t help it, that’s just how I am.  Trusting…because I am trustable.

Lulu and I had been spending a lot of time together for a year and I already knew all about Matt.  I was even her go-to person whenever the shit hit the fan in her life, which seemed to be quite a lot, but that’s what makes me such a good friend, and, frankly, I like being that supportive friend that you can count on.

I thought me and Lulu we were tight, but I quickly found out that it that wasn’t the case, especially when she found out that I had contacted her boyfriend, Matt without her knowing it.  Unlike Lisa, who had pure joy in her eyes when she found out about planning a party for her with her new boyfriend, Lulu flipped out on me.  I mean, she flipppppped out.

I’ll never forget it.  It was during her birthday and I was sitting on her couch next to Lulu feeling happy and a little glazed over from the wine and birthday cake we were both enjoying.  Everything was going great until  in the middle of one of our many conversations, I leaned over to show her a text I received from the guy we were discussing.

Now, I’m a trusting soul, and out of respect for other people, I don’t do a quick glance-over on someone’s phone, when they show me their phone. I am an honest person, so I stay focused on what they are pointing at.  But not Lulu, because she quickly pointed out Matt’s name in my received text messages.  Immediately, she pulled back and in a very accusatory tone of voice, “What are you doing texting my boyfriend, Carrie?!  How did you get his number!”

Calmly, I explained that it was innocent and that I just wanted to include Matt in her birthday festivities, but she didn’t want to hear it.  She was adamant that I had no business texting her boyfriend without her permission.

I’m sure you can imagine my reaction, because as an adult, I love being reprimanded and treated like a child.

Personally, I like to give people the benefit-of-the-doubt, especially when it’s a close friend, because that’s how I want to be treated.  But when someone starts flying off the handle at me and starts questioning my intention, yes, of course it’s going to piss me off and end up insulting me.

To clear the air and to stop her from doing any more harm to our friendship, I showed Lulu the texts in my phone.  They went as follows:

MATT:  Hi Carrie. Matt here.

CARRIE:  Hello!  Are you going to Lulu’s tonight?

MATT:  Hello…I can’t go tonight, I have the kids.

CARRIE:  Well, that stinks…sorry we won’t see you.

And there you have it folks, four whole lines of texting. Big friggin’ whoop.

The following day I had Lulu explain to me why she all of a sudden went off on me like she did and without really thinking things through.  (It was her birthday after all.)  Her answer was that she had been cheated on before and that she was worried that I was up to no good with her boyfriend.

…up to no good with her boyfriend…

I remember thinking that her remark wasn’t saying a lot about me – or her boyfriend – and she had been dating him for a year!  Clearly, Lulu didn’t trust me or her boyfriend, and you know what they say about relationships with no trust.  They die.

A few months later, Lulu decided come clean about two major lies she had concocted and had me believing for the past year.  Shame on me for being so gullible, but shame on her for taking me for a ride.  Everyone knows I don’t like roller-coaster rides, so I got off of it and gracefully bowed out of the friendship.

LESSON:  If you have been put through the ringer by a past relationship, don’t drag your insecurities and fears around with you.  Deal with them.  Get rid of them.  Move on.  Leave the past in the past.  And most importantly, realize that everyone is different and that nobody should have to pay for what someone else did to you.  And, if ever you want the recipe for ruining a friendship – or any relationship for that matter – just add (2) Cups of doubt and sprinkle it with (1) Tablespoon of contention.

At least Lisa was happy with my effort.

NEXT!