Attacking Life with Comedic Jaws of Sarcasm. Recovering Dating & Relationship Blogger - Made it to Step 12 When I Got Married.

Author: Velvet (Page 9 of 12)

* Gender: female
* Astrological Sign: Pisces
* Industry: Real Estate
* Location: Washington : D.C. : United States

About Me

"She has a lot of pretty pretty boys, she calls friends." "Velvet is so hetero. Being around her makes me more hetero."
Interests

* Rollerskating
* motorcycle riding
* reading
* working out like a maniac
* all things British
* my dogs.

Favorite Movies

* Arthur
* Almost Famous
* Loverboy
* The Gift
* Sliding Doors

Favorite Music

* 80's Hair Bands - Guns N' Roses
* Van Halen
* Great White
* Cinderella
* Poison Foo Fighters
* Greenday.

Favorite Books

* I just like reading and I can't say there's a favorite.

I Know I Could Have Loved You But You Would Not Let Me

Ugh. I am feeling not myself today. Actually, I haven’t been myself in almost a week. Last week I promised myself and you all that I would be raring to go on Monday, and Monday is here. Sigh, I’m oh so not in the mood to rejoin the regularly scheduled programming.

I had to decompress and try to figure out the source of my hellaciously bad mood. And here it comes: The list.

  1. I have gained weight. Damn. I hate this. It makes me miserable enough to not leave the house. So, I’m back to eating right and have to drop my extra fluff. Don’t blame it on the holidays because I didn’t go home and didn’t do any extraneous eating. Blame it on me eating out every damn day.
  2. Where in the hell did CL#4NewJersey go? Where? What the hell is wrong with him? I’m so angry about this flaky disappearance that I feel like emailing him and saying, “Damn, I didn’t know you were dead. I hope I didn’t miss the funeral.” I’ve collected some varying opinions on doing this, but, it led me to having this other train of thought. Exiting list mode now.

Am I just too passive in relationships? I know of a handful of women who literally hold the reins in their relationships. I don’t want to be this woman, but I think that so many men have proven themselves to be wishy washy, that women have learned to take the lead on relationship items. It’s not my style to call CL#4NewJersey and hound him because I’m of the “He’s Just That Not Into Me” school. But would another woman allow this to go on? Would another woman allow him to flake out like this without an appropriate excuse?

Some could argue that it was only three dates and that I have no right to contact him, fishing to find out what went wrong. But, it was three intense dates. While there was no sex, I detailed the conversation and things that happened on said dates. The man acted like he was into more with me than just someone to hang out with. Non-stop laughing people. Non-stop laughing. I’m not even sure what contacting him will yield. Even if he said, “Let’s go out tonight,” right now I feel like all these games and the lack of contact has made me lose interest – interest in him, but I haven’t lost interest in finding out what his deal is.

Damn am I in a bad mood.

Oprah Can Kiss My Ass

People Please. I am sick to death of hearing these ridiculous complaints about James Frey and his “A Million Little Pieces” book.

  1. Who cares if he embellished facts and changed details? The message is still the same: Your life will be a pile of shit if you sink into becoming an alcoholic and drug addict like he describes.
  2. The book wasn’t that good anyway. The first 200 pages were of him vomiting everywhere. Please. I could shit a better story than that. In fact, I have.
  3. Stop letting Oprah do all your thinking for you. Don’t let her tell you what books to read. Don’t let her tell you who to worship. Don’t let her tell you who you used to worship and now must despise.
  4. If you’re still pissed that he lied, consider something. Drug Addicts and Alcoholics haven’t been given any awards for their integrity and honesty. What the hell did you expect?
  5. If you couldn’t tell by reading the book that he was making some of the shit up, then I have a bridge to sell you. Who the hell has a dual root canal, cavity filled, two crowns, a broken nose smashed back into place and 40 stitches in their face within 48 hours and without the aid of painkillers?

Huh. I feel like I just channeled AUA for a minute. Ok. That is all.

The Best of El Guapo: Think of the Deli Meats!

All right, you all wanted to see it. Here’s his pic.

El Guapo:

Gracias for all your hard work yesterday. You have proven yourself to be the Numero Uno funny man of the D.C. Blog scene. I have an incredible urge to stick my tongue in your boca. But since you will not present yourself, I shall continue cruising Craigslist for dorks.

In an effort to thank you, I hereby present to you, this shrine. An Ode to El Guapo. Here are your best lines, used on AngryMan.

  1. I love to curl up with a man while he watches sports. It makes me feel perfect.
  2. Yes, I get manicures and penicures regularly. (Freudian slip?)
  3. I don’t have very strong hands, but I can do other things to make my lover happy
  4. Other treatments for my body? Well, yes, but I have to find that special someone to help me with that.
  5. You sound so big and strong I’m sure you could just flip me over so easily. What would you do then? Would you pour some candle wax on me? Would you mind if I turned you over and poured candle wax on you?
  6. My favorite thing to do in the bedroom is to tie up my partner. I have velvet rope that I use. I like to control him
  7. I’ve always wanted to use food during lovemaking. This sounds weird, but I like spicy food, so I would like to pour Tabasco sauce on my lover’s chest and lick it off. It would be spicy on my tounge and hot on his chest. Then I would kiss him for him to feel the heat.
  8. Yes. I have been with a woman. Is this ok with you? It was a very strange relationship that my brothers found out about. It was a very messy situation, but this was in Brazil, so they cannot do anything to my lovers here. It was wonderful. I met her while I was volunteering at a school for the blind. I still think about her on rainy nights.
  9. I touched myself last night while thinking about you. I didn’t have my vibrator, so I used one of the whiskey bottles in the mini-bar. I know it’s kinky, but I needed something. The label was peeling a little bit and it felt good.
  10. Have you ever stuck anything in you? I like doing that sometimes. I think it’s hot when a man is masculine enough to admit that feels good. Would you be ok with my doing that?
  11. I was with my female lover about 5 years ago. She was blind, but beautiful. She could not speak very well because of surgeries, but she could touch. We spent most of the time in bed because she couldn’t walk without the use of canes
  12. I would sit on her face for hours while she made me orgasm over and over. It took some getting used to her hands being always in a fist, but I eventually used that to my advantage.
  13. Paul, I need to know about your size. Please tell me.
  14. His response: “my name is not paul.”
  15. It is true, I had made love to my business partner Paul, but that was one time in a drunken night in Singapore. There were others as well. He doesn’t mean anything to me John! He was just there and it slipped.
  16. Please Paul. Have your friend come and meet us. I can watch you two make love while I touch myself like you wanted.
  17. Please Paul. You must be aware of what the Patriot actually covers. Unfortunately, lustful e-mails is not one of them.
  18. Paul, please, think of all of the deli meats we can eat off of each other. Please, do not be vindictive with your imaginary uses of law. I beg of you

El Guapo, I might be in love with you. You made personas en todo el mundo laugh yesterday.

Much Amor y besitos,

Velvet

El Guapo Fucks Up

Oh no. We’ve gone too far. His responses are italicized. I’ll guide you in parenthesis.

*****************************************
(From AngryMan)
Yes, I wear underwear. I think most guys do. I wear boxers or the boxer/brief combination. Hey, speaking of pictures, do you have any pictures you can send me? Diane sent me two, but I wanted to see more of you. I have never done the wax thing, but would be willing to try. I am pretty open minded in the bedroom. Are you? What are your favorite things to do in bed? Please tell. I like a woman to wear lingerie for me. To model it and show off your body to me. Seduce me with your body and get me so hot for you. When is your flight home?
*****************************************
(From Mercedes)
I’m on my company laptop. I don’t have any more pictures. I’m sorry. 🙁 I loooooooooove boxer briefs. You make me so excited that you are into new things in the bedroom. I’m very adventurous and will try anything if I trust my lover. My favorite thing to do in the bedroom is to tie up my partner. I have velvet rope that I use. I like to control him, but I promise in a good way. I’ve always wanted to use food during lovemaking. This sounds weird, but I like spicy food, so I would like to pour Tabasco sauce on my lover’s chest and lick it off. It would be spicy on my tounge and hot on his chest. Then I would kiss him for him to feel the heat. Would you like this?

Brazil is known for it’s lingerie. I will stop by and pick up a couple of things this weekend. My flight leaves Manaus in the morning, but it goes to SP, Houston, then DC. I will be arriving late on Sunday. Will you be up?

Tell me what you would do to me. Have you ever had a threesome? I’ve always been curious about that.

M
*****************************************
(Obv, from AngryMan)
Mercedes:

Your flight leaves Sunday morning? How long of a flight is it?

I love lingerie. Buy some or just wear what you have at home. I am sure it is as sexy as can be.

I am open minded in the bedroom so we can discuss doing whatever you want to do. Yes, I would love to have a threesome. That would be fun. Although, I would want to be with just you and get some trust between us. That would make the threesome much better. Have you ever been with a woman?

Do you touch yourself alot when you are on the road? I want to watch you do that. I assume you wax or shave?
*****************************************
(From Mercedes)
The flight is long. I will be leaving very early. Around 7AM in Brazil and only getting to DC near 11 PM.

Yes. I have been with a woman. Is this ok with you? It was a very strange relationship that my brothers found out about. It was a very messy situation, but this was in Brazil, so they cannot do anything to my lovers here. It was wonderful. I met her while I was volunteering at a school for the blind. I still think about her on rainy nights.

But yes, a threesome is only to be done when trust is formed.

I will touch myself in front of you if you do the same. I am completely waxed. Very Brazilian. 😉

Will you touch yourself too? Are you big or small or medium? Tell me specifics. I am very tiny, so I need to be careful with that regard.

What is your fantasy?
**************************************
(AngryMan ain’t so angry anymore)
Yes, the fact that you have been with a woman is fine with me. I would love for you to tell me all about it. How long ago was it? Please give me details. I would love to hear every detail about it.

How often do you touch yourself? Have you done so thinking about me?

Every guys fantasy is to be with two or three beautiful women at the same time. I would love to do that.

I also love to have a woman wear lingerie when I get to her house. She has it on and leads me to the bedroom where candles are lit and she wants to be romantic and make love all night. I love the body rubs as I mentioned and the touch of a beautiful confident and sexy woman.

When was the last time you were with a man?
****************************************
(Mercedes again!)
I touched myself last night while thinking about you. I didn’t have my vibrator, so I used one of the whiskey bottles in the mini-bar. I know it’s kinky, but I needed something. The label was peeling a little bit and it felt good. Have you ever stuck anything in you? I like doing that sometimes. I think it’s hot when a man is masculine enough to admit that feels good. Would you be ok with my doing that?

I was with my female lover about 5 years ago. She was blind, but beautiful. She could not speak very well because of surgeries, but she could touch. We spent most of the time in bed because she couldn’t walk without the use of canes. She had red hair and was beautiful. I would sit on her face for hours while she made me orgasm over and over. It took some getting used to her hands being always in a fist, but I eventually used that to my advantage. She was the only woman I ever really loved.

I have been with other women with my lovers, but I don’t count those. I do it for them. I do anything to keep them happy.

Paul, I need to know about your size. Please tell me.
****************************************
(Uh oh. AngryMan is BAACK.)
my name is not Paul.
****************************************
Oh no! John, please I am sorry. Paul is a business partner who was talking to me when I was writing. I feel so embarrassed! Please, I am so sorry.
****************************************
Well, Mercedes.

I need you to call me or for me to call you. I understand you are out of the Country, but provide me with a phone number and I will call you.
****************************************
I am afraid that I am too embarrassed to continue with you. I did not want to make you feel small by calling you a different name. I am so sorry. I have tears in my eyes.

And to think that I had all these plans and you were making me so excited to meet someone special and then this happened.

I deserve this. You are too sweet of a man to have to have someone call you by another name.

It is true, I had made love to my business partner Paul, but that was one time in a drunken night in Singapore. There were others as well. He doesn’t mean anything to me John! He was just there and it slipped. I’m sorry.

Please, if you want, I will give you my flight information and you can meet me at Dulles on Sunday.

M
**********************************
Give me your phone number.
**********************************
I am in Brazil using the comp’s cell for business.

Have you lost all faith in me? Be honest.
**********************************
(To Both of Us)
Well you two, whoever you are.

I hope you had your fun for the day.

I am not quite sure you are looking to get out of stringing guys along like this. Have you ever heard of Karma? What goes around comes around?

I would like to be there when it gets back to you two.
**********************************
John please. This is my sister in law. Please do not bring her into this. Please. I beg you. This is just between you and me.
**********************************
(Another from AngryMan.)
Why are you two playing games.

Being so dishonest and lying about everything is not very cool.

I have a couple of buddies who work down the hall if you know what I mean. They have access to email accounts – especially g-mail. This will be very fun for me.
***********************************
(A third from AngryMan.)
I am going to have so much fun with you. Ahhhhhh……………..sweet revenge.

I just hung up with a buddy of mine who consults for DHS. He is going to help me with this.
**********************************
(El Guapo tries once more…)
Please Paul. Have your friend come and meet us. I can watch you two make love while I touch myself like you wanted. Please, do not e-mail my sister in law Diane.
**********************************
(Using his first line of introduction with me from my Craigslist ad. – Hello, didn’t I say men always tell us who they are in the first five minutes?)
you are a fucking idiot.
**********************************
(El Guapo, blatantly calling him by wrong name.)
Paul, please, this could be special. Do not be angry.
**********************************
(AngryMan is ANGRY.)

Whatever.

BTW – g-mail is apparently very open to providing information using the Patriot Act.

Thought you should know.
**********************************
(El Guapo, in his funniest of all comebacks:)
Please Paul. You must be aware of what the Patriot actually covers. Unfortunately, lustful e-mails is not one of them.

Paul, please, think of all of the deli meats we can eat off of each other. Please, do not be vindictive with your imaginary uses of law. I beg of you
**********************************
(Diane tries to write back.)
Damn you two. What happened? I just got back from a meeting and saw all these emails. Goodness.

Oh well, Mercedes – I tried. Sounds like he’s a pecker anyway.

And you, John – you’re ready to tell all your friends at work what you wrote to Mercedes? Ha. I doubt it.
**********************************
Diane receives this:
Message Undeliverable. USER IS NOT ACCEPTING MAIL FROM THIS SENDER.

I probably shouldn’t post his picture, but I’m more than happy to email it to anyone who asks.

El Guapo Strikes Again

There are more emails. This one is John’s response to the last email you read. Then it continues, in the same fashion of reply etc.*************************************************
Ok, so I guess much of what she told me is true of you and not her. I feel kinda strange that she lied to me, but I understand why she did it. I can try and see it from your/her point of view and I guess it makes sense. I am not into meeting women on the Internet. I have met only one person this way. It went well and she is a very nice woman, just not the right one for me.So, can you tell me more about yourself? Age? Likes and dislikes?I guess you have seen my picture. So, you know I am a white male. I am 5-9 and weigh about 170 lbs. I have an athletic build and try to keep in pretty good shape. I played a ton of sports in my life to include hockey, rugby, golf, soccer, tennis, baseball. Now, I mainly play softball and golf. I try to run and keep active. It is not easy sometimes, but I work at it.

I own a small property management company in Fairfax. I also have an interest in a real estate company in Vienna.

I am Italian. I come from a large extremely close family with 5 kids. My parents are still married and have been for over 42 years. Family is very important to me.

Let’s see……..I like a woman who is attractive, smart, funny, and secure in herself.

What else would you like to know? I want to know everything about you.

John
**********************************************
John,

Sorry for the delay. A couple of my cousins dragged me out to the hotel lobby and we were dancing.

I am SO excited that you are Italian. My mother is of Italian descent! Her maiden name is Pacoli. That is my middle name.

You are the first person I have actually contacted from the Internet. Diane has sent me many photos, but I don’t know, there was something about you. You looked cocky and I like that. I like a man who is cocky and in charge. I could tell by the way you were pointing at the camera. I loved that. It’s on my desktop. Sorry, I just thought that was the cutest thing in the world. Confident men are hard to come by.

Wow, you have played a lot of sports. I just knew you liked sports because I noticed you had a couple of remote controls on your table. I love to curl up with a man while he watches sports. It makes me feel perfect. I don’t know a lot about softball, but I have seen it on TV. It looks very difficult. I’m not much of an athlete. I go to the gym several times a week, but I know I could never play softball. When you hit the ball, does it hurt your hands? Probably not yours, but I think it would hurt mine. I’m more of a yoga person. It relaxes me and makes me very flexible. This is very important because I travel a lot.

I’m so excited you like soccer! Do you think Brazil will win the World Cup next year? My brothers are going to Germany to see a couple of games. I may go, but I get bored sometimes with my entire family. I’m the only girl and they are just too protective.

It is good that you take care of yourself. I could see that from the picture. I’m not very big. I’m 5’3 104 pounds. You could lift me over your head!

A family with 5 kids? My family has 6 kids! 5 boys and me. Are you Catholic? Religion isn’t at the top of my list, but I do try to go to church when I can.

My likes? That is so broad John! Can you maybe narrow this down? Are you asking what I look for in men? I will assume so.

In men, I look for someone who is intelligent and strong. Physically and in their mind. A man who takes control, but still gives me my space. I am very independent and want someone who is the same way. I have my own world and want someone who has theirs as well. You have to be funny and spontaneous. I like to be surprised. I also like eyes. I want a man to look at me and make me know that I am safe.

Dislikes are boring John. I don’t like guys that say I have a sexy accent. It’s so overdone. That is it.

I’m so excited that you like soccer and are Italian. I think my brothers would like you.
***********************************************
Hey Mercedes:

Glad you went out dancing. I am sure it was fun. I would assume you like to dance and do often? I confess, I am not much of a dancer at all. I am a white male – we are not very good at it. So, I hope that would not be an issue for you and we can find other ways to do things together. Although, I am sure I would like to watch you dance. I am sure it is sexy.

Five brothers??? Wow, that is a large family. I am the youngest in the family. How about you? Are all of your brothers older than you? They must be so protective of you. I mean that in a good way. Older brothers should be protective of their little sister.

Yes, I am Catholic. I assumed you were as well. I don’t practice like I should, but I was raised Catholic and went to Catholic school as a kid.

It sounds as if family is very important to you. That is great. It is tough to find these days. It seems as if every marriage ends in divorce and family members don’t like each other. I just don’t get it. I love my family and they are extremely important to me.

Do you like to cook? I love to cook. I love cooking for a woman after she has had a long day. On the flip side, I love a woman to cook for me when I have had a long day.

So, you go to the gym a lot aye? Do you also get manicures, pedicures, facials, and massages? You seem like a woman who takes care of herself mentally and physically. I like woman like that. I like a woman who cares about how she looks and takes pride in her appearance. Although, a massage between lovers is so much better, don’t you think?

When will you be home? I think you said Sunday. How often are you out of town?

I guess I have to wait until Sunday or Monday to hear your voice? Don’t worry I won’t use some lame line and tell you that you have a sexy accent. LOL

Hope you are doing well and would love to hear from you soon.

John
************************************************
John,

I can’t explain how I’ve been so excited to get your replies. I got your e-mail earlier, but only had the opportunity to reply now.

Don’t worry about not dancing. I can teach you. Actually, I would love to do so. Just as long as you hold me tight and move the right way. Can you do that? 😉

I am the second youngest in my family. They are very protective. Sometimes they go too far, but that’s another story for another day.
You cook? Thatis so hard to find in a man! Do you cook Italian food? I love Italian food. I find the food so sensual. I always get in a good mood (if you know what I mean) after i have a nice, big Italian dinner.

Yes, I get manicures and penicures regularly. I like to take care of myself and look my best. When I am with someone, I do what I can to make him proud to be with me. Do you really know how to give massages? I’d like to see that. I love receiving massages. I don’t have very strong hands, but I can do other things to make my lover happy.

I will be home on Sunday. I want to talk to you then. I’m out of town about 2 weeks a month. Sometimes more, sometimes less.

I have a break between meetings, so we could have a bit of a conversation if you reply quickly. I know that may be hard since it is lunchtime, but try for me. Your e-mails make me so happy. Especially when you talk about massages and cooking. 😉
*************************************************
Mercedes:

Your last email turned me on. I have to be honest with you.

Several points –

The fact that you get excited to hear from me is a big turn on. I like a woman who takes care of herself physically for her man. That is huge to me. So, you get manicures and pedicures. Are there other treatments you get on a regular basis for your body?

I love to give massages to a beautiful woman. I like to touch every inch of your body and make you feel good and relaxed. I like to do with oil, soft music in the back ground, a candle and some wine. Start you on your back and then flip you over to your stomach and rub every inch of your body. Would you like that?

Yes, I cook all kinds of food to include Italian. I can cook for you sometime soon.

So, what else do you like to do to make your lover happy? Do you like to wear lingerie?
*************************************************
John!

I know that we are going to be getting along just fine.

Other treatments for my body? Well, yes, but I have to find that special someone to help me with that.

You sound so big and strong I’m sure you could just flip me over so easily. What would you do then? Would you pour some candle wax on me? Would you mind if I turned you over and poured candle wax on you? It hurts a little bit, but it is a good hurt. I’ll take care of you. I promise.

I can’t believe I’m writing this, but I wonder how you are. You know. Remember that I’m very small and I’m afraid to be with someone that is too big.

I have lingerie, but I like to sleep naked. I don’t wear underwear and I don’t think I ever will. It’s too constricting. Do you wear underwear? I guess many guys do.

I wish I were back in the states now. I can’t stop looking at your picture.
*************************************************

Uh. I’m speechless. El Guapo, you have outdone yourself. I’m laughing so hard I’m crying.

With The Touch of a Velvet Glove, Abra Abra Cadabra

There is officially someone who has as much time on their hands as I do, and who also enjoys a good practical joke/revenge at some bastards expense. El Guapo is handling things with the AngryMan from here. We should call him CLAngryMan I suppose.

El Guapo created a fake email and sent this, which resulted in the exchange that follows.

Hello. You may find this strange, but today Diane sent you two pictures of me. You see, Diane is my sister-in-law who has it in her head that I am going to be forever single. So, she posts ads for me on Craigs List and Match in her treasure hunt to find me a man.

She told me that you two had a fun back and forth today and actually sent me your picture. I’m actually traveling in South America for work right now, but would love to chat with you over e-mail until I get back. Be forwarned that my response times will either be very quick or very slow depending on my meeting schedule.

Diane is a good judge of character and she told me that you had great wit. Besides, you are too cute!

Sorry for the novel. I can’t wait to hear from you!

Mercedes
************************************************
I am not quite sure I understand what is going on here.

You are out of the country? Who sent me the pics and who is the woman in the pics?
************************************************
Wow! That was quick! That’s me in the pics.

It’s kind of embarrassing that she does this, but she tries to find me guys to date on the Internet. She complains that I work and travel too much etc etc.

She told me that I would like your sarcasm. And she knows my type, so she forwarded me your picture in the hopes that I would actually take initiative.

Well, tonight I’m in my hotel room and the martinis gave me the initiative to write you.

How are you? Tell me a bit about yourself. What do you do? Where are you from? etc.
************************************************
So, that is you in the pics? I asked for her to call me to prove it was/is her, but she did not. Is this the reason? Becuase it is you?

I guess I feel lied to, but I see why she did it.

Where are you right now? I know you are in a hotel, but where?

I live in Fairfax, VA. I own a town house and live alone. I love living alone……………wait, everything she told me was a lie? You don’t do real estate? You don’t live alone in DC?

This would be much easier if we could talk on the phone………….can we?
*************************************************
Yup, that’s me! She’s married to my brother, and she couldn’t pull off my accent (although she tries!). I’m sorry that she lied to you. She’s a super amazing person. I didn’t like her at first (she took away my little brother!), but she grew on me very quickly.

No, I’m not in Real Estate. My family is in the make-up business and several of our manufacturing facilities are in Venezuela & Brazil. Right now I’m in a city called Manaus in Northern Brazil.

You already want to talk on the phone? Well, luckily I’m in Brazil, so I can’t. However, I’m a little new with this meeting people over the Internet, so I’d feel a lot better about it if we kept it to e-mail. Do you mind? I’m sorry, but my family is very protective over me and I don’t want to put myself “out there”. They’re very nice once you meet them and they know you.

I do live alone in DC. I live just off Pennsylvania Avenue in Capitol Hill. I love it there, but I wish I were home more… 🙁

I own a townhome and share it with my Fox Terrier. Do you like dogs? I love dogs. They are loyal and are always in a good mood. I like living alone too, except when it’s cold in the winter.

I went to college in the North East, but my family is originally from Brazil. I pretty much grew up here, but I still have that accent. I like it though. It’s very me.
I’m sorry that she teased you like that, but it was for a good cause. We got to speak over e-mail didn’t we? And, I get back on Sunday, so we can talk then.

What about you? Tell me about yourself? I can’t even sleep now. See what you did to me?
***********************************************

What is this dude’s hangup about living alone? It’s like he dated someone in a group house and he’s scarred for life. El Guapo – you must get on that! Invent a permanent houseguest.

Why am I doing this? Because, this guy was cruising the ads sending out obnoxious replies under the anonymous email address feature. I know he’s a dick and he deserves a little slapping around for it. So, all you Anonymous posters who want to cry about it, tell me I’m wrong, that I should stop – get off my blog. Go read about sunshine and lollypops, cause Velvet and El Guapo are muy busy.

HA!

Choose Your Own Adventure

Perhaps my commute is making me angry. Maybe it’s because I spent a delightful night with the devilish CrazyGirl and she got me fired up. Or maybe it’s because my last Craigslister is a flake – see post below this one. But, today’s emails have yielded this batch of fun.

AngryMan: you’re a fucking idiot {Who sends crap like this on the first try?}
Velvet: And you have a tiny penis.
AngryMan: And you are a ditch licker.
Velvet: Why so angry? Why are you cruising Craigslist firing insults at people? I bet you’re a short, fatty, with blubber hanging everywhere and you just can’t find yourself a girl. So you insult them.
AngryMan: LOL………….actually, I am a really nice guy. I am just messing around. If I offended you I am sorry. I was just having fun. I am sure you are a wonderful woman with much to offer a guy. I am about your age by the way – if that matters. Have you received a ton of responses to your ad?
Velvet: Let’s see..a ton of responses, yes. But once you net out all the people who hurl insults at me (only you) and who are dorks, there’s not a lot left.
AngryMan: Seriously, I am a nice guy, just messing with you. Have you sent your picture out to many guys?
Velvet: I’ve sent my picture to no one. I haven’t wanted to.
AngryMan: So, I assume you won’t send your pic to me. Can you at least give me a physical description to go with your sarcastic temperament? I can respond in kind if you like.
Velvet: I’m 5’5. I go to the gym every morning…although I suspect I have collected 5 extra pounds in the last few weeks. They’ll be gone by next week though, in time for our wedding. Dark hair, brown eyes. What else?
AngryMan: Sounds very nice. To which gym do you belong (poor sentence, but did not what to end it in a prep – phrase, you know?) You work out every morning. You must have decent stamina. mmmmmmm Where do you live and are you sure you can wear white down the isle?
Velvet: I live in D.C.I can wear white. I’m a virgin. If I told you what gym, you might stalk me. I can’t have you across the street, yelling out “you’re a fucking idiot” when I’m trying to start my day.
AngryMan: ahhh………..good point. I don’t live in DC. I live in NOVA. So tell me………….. Biggest turn ons and turn offs
Velvet: Biggest turn offs: men who swear at me on Craigslist. Turn ons: Someone who is insanely intelligent, tall, nice teeth. You?
AngryMan: Offs – Women who tell me I have a small penis on CL. LOL Ons – body rubs. Any more? So, any chance I can get a pic of you?
Velvet: As soon as I get one of you.
AngryMan: ahhhh………..I see. Do you think you deserve one? Please list more turn ons and offs.
Velvet: You called me a fucking idiot. I deserve way more than a picture. I deserve an apology and probably dinner. See how I worked that in there? List more…Hmm. Must think about that.
AngryMan: Ahhh…………I see the angle there. Good way to work that in on that one. So, if I send you a picture – will you send one right back? I do apologize. I assume you apologize for saying I had a small dick and was really fat?
Velvet: Ok. I’m sorry. Although it’s a funny combination. I’ll send one right back. Unless you send me a pic of George Bush.
AngryMan: Ok, here is a pic. Please send yours.
Velvet: ok
AngryMan: Yea, right,,,,,,,,,,,,please send one of you.
Velvet: I did. You didn’t get it? Should I send it again?
AngryMan: You sent me a pic of a very pretty woman sitting down wearing a bra. Is that honestly you?
Velvet: It’s my bathing suit top.I didn’t realize you could see that. Sorry. It was taken at the beach this past summer.
AngryMan: do you have any other pics you can send? Yours was very nice by the way. Did you like mine?
Velvet: Why do you want more pics? You didn’t send more pics of you. Just like a guy. You all always want 10 pics so you can decide if she’s worthy enough for you. No. I don’t like your pic. You look like a dork and I bet you have a tiny pee pee.
AngryMan: LOL…………..pee pee. I like that. Are we in high school. No, I don’t want 10 more pics…………..just one. This time, you send one and I will send one in return.
Velvet: That sounds like a stupid deal. I’m clearly hotter than you are. So why would I do that?
AngryMan didn’t write back. I am not letting this one get away. So I wrote again. In case you can’t tell, I’m going to make him pay dearly for sending me that initial “fucking idiot” email.

Velvet: Honey, was I a little too harsh? Did you leave me and go to lunch? Oh my. I hope I haven’t scared you away with my delightful personality.
AngryMan: I actually thought it was pretty funny. You are pretty, but I am a hottie.
Velvet: I doubt that you are a hottie. Big Geek are the words that come to mind. So where do you work, Big Geek? Cause I know you’re not an ER doc.
AngryMan: I work in Fairfax. I own a small company and have an interest in a real estate firm. How are we coming with the list of turn ons and offs? Where do you work? What do you do for a living?
Velvet: I work in D.C., also in real estate. I probably know you. “How are we coming with the list” – funny. Ok. Turn on: Picking up men on Craigslist; Turn off: having them swear at me. Turn on: When they apologize and can keep up with my sarcasm; Turn off: When they are a stick in the mud.(not you, of course, but mostly all these other schlubs.) Turn ons: Music, my thong undies, men who are smart. Turn offs: Traffic, you in thong undies, liars.
AngryMan: Now wait just one minute —– you put that a turn off would be me in a thong. Are you sure about that? See, I put on thongs backwards – it so looks hot! You need to see it to believe it my friend. So, you have not had a whole lot of luck with CL? Can I ask you a question and get an honest answer? Well, I will do it anyway – Why am I so privilege to get your pic? You said you have not sent your pic to anyone. So, why do I deserve such special treatment?How are we coming with the second pic there my friend?
Velvet: You can stick that second pic up your ass. You were lucky enough (as you said) to get one, don’t push your luck. The other pic I have is lame. But ok. I’ll send it. I’m good like that. I’m getting a lot of responses of men who barely speak English. I don’t even write back. You seem different. I can just tell.
AngryMan: Wait. Hold on, wait just one-second – was that almost a compliment? I mean, we may have been in the same ball park of a compliment???? I may get sick here if you are nice to me. We can’t have that. Another pic would be much appreciated. Would it make you feel more comfortable if I started to write you in poor English? I can if you like. See cuz I done be good like tht and all. J/K. So, you do real estate? Commercial or residential? BTW – my name is John
Velvet: I already know your name. Your pic wish has been granted.
AngryMan: I assume your name is Diane? Thank you for the second picture. You are a very pretty woman…………..gross, no more compliments for you today 🙂 You did not answer the real estate question. Also, why is a beautiful woman like you posting and ad on CL anyway?
Velvet: Yes. Diane. I don’t know. Why is a cute boy like yourself answering ads? Real Estate – residential.
AngryMan: I don’t know. Curious I guess. Do you live alone in DC or with room mates? Do you even know how old I am?
Velvet: As long as you aren’t answering men seeking men ads. Or, are you? I live in D.C., alone. How old are you? 24?
AngryMan: I live alone in Fairfax. I love living alone. How about you? 24?????????? Do I look 24?
Velvet: No. You look 54. But I was trying to be nice. How old are you motherfucker?
AngryMan: Motherfucker???? Now is that nice or what? I am a two years older than you. So, when are you going to call me?
Velvet: I’m not. I was hoping you would say we would just meet for a drink. Talking is overrated.
AngryMan: We can meet for a drink. However, I think we should talk first.
Velvet: Why? Be spontaneous.
AngryMan: Oh I can be spontaneous. That is not an issue. However, I want to talk to you first.
Velvet: Fine. What’s your number?

He sent me his number. Let’s turn this post into a choose your own adventure. Either I’ll call him and use *67 to block my number, or, one of you lovely readers will get the number emailed to you and you’ll be able to call. Who wants to play? Come on! Don’t make me take him down alone. This could be an interactive blog. Think of the possibilities.

UPDATE:
It seems someone is hot in the pants. He sent his number. Then more emails.
AngryMan: Are you going to call or what?
Velvet: I’m at work dear. I can’t say the things I want to say to you when people are nearby
AngryMan: we won’t talk about anything bad or sexy. Just call so I can hear your voice. Chicken???
AngryMan: ummmmmm……was today just a game?
Velvet: I can’t call you. I have a dozen people around me. Honey, you are going to have to hold your horses. I’m worth the wait. Trust me.
AngryMan: I have an idea. Give me your cell phone number and I can call you. Let it go to voice mail – don’t answer it. I just want to make sure to hear your voice before we go any further.
Velvet: What’s your hurry hon? I don’t have a recording on my voicemail. I have Verizon ringback, so all you hear is music, then a beep. I have it on Jukebox, so it’s a crapshoot what song you will hear.
AngryMan: you are in real estate and you don’t have a very specific announcement? I find that hard to believe. Is this just for your amusement?
Velvet: I wouldn’t call from my work cell, nor would I give that number out. You are very tightly wound.

Come on people! I’m dying on the vine over here! Someone step up. And look how eager beaver he is right now. Guarandamnteed that if we went out tonight, he wouldn’t be emailing as much tomorrow, and it would screech to a halt.

A Wound Gets Worse When It’s Treated With Neglect

It’s back. My “I don’t give a shit” attitude is back. I don’t know who invited it, but here it is.

I was in Michigan last weekend visiting the cutest baby in the world. Prior to jetting off for the airport, I answered that email from CL#4NewJersey. Last. Thursday. And. I. Haven’t. Heard. Back. I don’t even care anymore. The thought of him doesn’t make my heart pitter patter anymore. I know, I know, we all had hope. I sure did. What can I do?

I posted another ad on Craigslist yesterday afternoon and collected a few dozen replies. But I’m not in the mood to write anything witty or be charming.

It is a little sad to have this thing with CL#4NewJersey die out like this, after three intense and wonderful dates, but, my sister-in-law asked me an important question when I was in Michigan: “How did his last relationship end?” I dropped my jaw and said, “He told me they just drifted apart.” So, there it is.

My sister-in-law’s sister (my inspiration for getting a motorcycle) suggested I contact him again. I can’t. I cannot possibly force myself to call or write again. I cannot text under the pretense that “perhaps he didn’t get my last email.” I have to be aggressive in so many other areas of my life, that it drains me. Dating and relationships is the one place I can’t be aggressive. First, it violates my principle that if a man likes you, he will make the effort. And second, it’s just not my style. I want to be chased. I want to be pursued. I want to feel the rush of someone blowing off everything else in their life for me.

So, I guess I’ll take a little break from dating, then jump back in – probably by Monday I’ll be better.

When I Said “I Do…”

I’ve been working on this post for a while, both in my head and here in my drafts. It’s about Marriage.

All of a sudden, I’m hearing about all these unhappy marriages. It’s crazy, but every time I get that feeling that everyone is coupled up or married, along come a dozen stories of miserable matrimony to validate my choice to be single.

I recently heard from someone who I thought was very happily married that he and his wife don’t even talk anymore, and sometimes he’s so aggravated and sick of her that he invents errands and finds himself wandering around the grocery store talking to people who work there, just so he can have non-frustrating human contact.

I also have a distant family member who was just married a year ago, already filing for divorce.

Then I heard from a friend that her sister and brother-in-law are fighting and there’s talk of divorce and who gets the baby – talk that has never occured in any of their fights before.

So, this begs the all important question ~ Are people getting married without really knowing each other or are they marrying the right person and just not trying hard enough? As the divorce rate climbs, I have to wonder what the real reason is behind the divorces.

My own feelings on marriage are this: I have never fantasized about a dream wedding. I think that fantasy clouds the underlying event – the marriage. I lived with someone for the better part of 6 years. In that time, we wavered on whether we should get married or not. I loved him dearly, more than anyone ever in my life, but his casual attitude toward money presented a problem for me. Eventually we parted ways, after deciding that we were no longer better together than apart. Our relationship lasted longer than a lot of marriages, and for us it was a clean break. No lawyers, no custody battles, no support payments. But, I know people who have those money differences, or religious or family differences, and they try to defy the odds and get married. Stupid.

Now, a pop quiz, but it only has one question:

How long does it take to really get to know someone?
a) You “just know” right away if they are the right person for you.
b) About 3 months
c) One Year
d) After your first major fight
e) Never

Ladies and gents, if you answered anything other than “E,” thank yourself for jacking up the divorce rate statistic. You never really know someone. Why? Because people are always changing. You could meet me today and have me all figured out, but time can change and warp me in some ways. If you don’t believe me, watch the true crime dramas on A&E at night. Someone always kills their spouse for one reason or another, and the friends always testify that they never knew that the problems in the marriage were any more severe than anyone else’s issues, and that they “knew Bob since he was in kindergarden and he could never kill Lucinda.”

I’m not saying that everyone’s spouse is eligible to become a murderer. But give it some thought. Haven’t you ever done something out of character that you shared with almost no one, and most people wouldn’t believe you even if you told them to their face? I’m the host of about one scandalous event a year, that no one “who knows me well” would ever believe.

I don’t know the answer to this question of marriage. I do know that the right person for me at 25 wasn’t the right person for me at 30. So if that’s true, how do I know that a (hypothetical) person I marry today will be the person I want to be with in 30 years? They say “You just know.” Do you? I don’t even know which bra I want to wear tomorrow. How can I pick out a permanent mate? And who’s to say that marriage has to be permanent? Who made all these damn rules?

What about the issue of “other people’s marriages” – what’s the answer? Are people jumping ship too soon? Or are they walking down the aisle with people they barely know? Why is everyone getting divorced? Why is everyone in such a rush to get married in the first place? Is living with someone for the rest of your life really the way to go?

I Know It’s Late, I Know You’re Weary

A few tidbits and a funny story.

Tidbits:

  • The painter called me and left me a message. So I guess my theory of paying him for services rendered didn’t stop him from calling again. Since my transaction with him was complete, I can now ignore his calls. And I did.
  • Fifteen years ago from tomorrow (Friday Jan 20th) is the anniversary of my first date with my high school boyfriend and first love. Last I heard, he was still pumping gas at the same gas station, but he did manage to get married. What do I have? Years of failed relationships and…aww, forget it. Next tidbit.
  • Like the worst of all reality shows, CL#3TextTormenter is baaack. He called last night, I called him today. We talked for 5 minutes and then he said he had to go but he would call me back. I said I was going out of town for the weekend, but he could try. Then he said, “Ok, so you call me.” Yeah. Sure. I’ll be doing that sometime soon.
  • CL#4NewJersey and I have exchanged one email this week, initiated by yours truly. It simply mentioned the Warhol exhibit that he said he wanted to see. I sent him the link. Then he wrote back and said, “is that your way of asking me to go see it with you.” Good lord. That man used my own line on me. And it isn’t even my line! I stole it from my neighbors.

In all seriousness, I’ve lost a little of the twinge of excitement about CL#4NJ. I think it’s this painfully slow communication. I’m losing interest. In fact, I was checking a guy out today at the airport. (I’m in Michigan this weekend visiting the cutest baby in the world, who is suspiciously starting to look like me now.) Anyway, if I really liked CL#4NJ, I don’t think I would be checking someone else out. Come on CL#4!! Step up to the plate already!!! Can someone call him for me? Thanks.

******************************************************************

Funny Story:

Speed Dating is hilarious.

I signed up for a speed dating event over a month ago. The event was last week. After I signed up, I convinced three other people, one of whom convinced a fourth, to sign up. In total, there were five of us who would speed date. One by one, the other girls received confirmations, and I remained on the waiting list. Since I believe things happen for a reason, I decided to not tempt fate by emailing the organizer or switching places with one of my friends – all of whom were having buyer’s dreaded remorse.

When I wasn’t confirmed, the girls and I swirled around a bunch of conspiracy theories in emails. The first theory was that CL#4NewJersey was important enough that perhaps there was no reason to speed date. I’m a big believer in signs – not coincidences, but signs. This to me seemed a plausible explanation. Even more plausible was the fact that Sammy, little dog, love of my life, was about to endure some extensive medical tests and my mind wasn’t in the dating game. So, there.

In the spirit of support, I attended the event and sat at the bar with a few friends. Shortly after the event started, the organizer delivered to me, a man who had signed up but was also not confirmed. She said if I agreed, we could both speed date, because she needed both of us to keep the numbers even.

I probably sat with this man for an hour and a half – the entire duration of the event going on upstairs. In that time, we had several arguments brew.

He asked me where I was from. I told him Connecticut. He said, “Oh, so your parents are rich.” What the fuck does that mean? We’re not in junior high school anymore. I’m almost 33 years old. It’s entirely possible that I AM the one who is rich, and supporting my parents. Ok, it’s not true due to money being allocated to sick dogs and high heels, but still. His comment was rude, and he directed it at three other people in the group.

At another point in the conversation he was describing something about his job. I said, “Interesting,” mostly in place of saying, “uh-huh.” To that he said obnoxiously, and with a straight face, “NO IT’S NOT.” Rude. Eye rolling and head shaking accompanied the asshole things that came out of his puckering asshole mouth.

Then he asked me what kind of food I ate. I told him I’m mainly a vegetarian who eats seafood. He responded by saying, “Don’t you feel bad that fish are caught in nets and suffocated so that you can eat them? I mean, they struggle for their last breath just so they can end up on your plate.” I said, “It doesn’t really come up until someone jerk I meet in a bar forces it to come up.”

At one point near the end of this hellacious time, he said it takes a really long time to get to know people. You know what I said?

“Nope. People tell you who they are within five minutes of meeting them.”

And I think we’re done here.

Oh My God Look What The Cat Dragged In

I must have a little spring in my step because all of a sudden, everyone is on my ass. Hey! You in the back! Stop giggling! These things have happened to me in the last three days.

Inappropriate Ask-Out Situation #1: The Painter
A painter working in my building asked me if I needed any painting done in my house. I said that my bathroom door fell off the hinge and I just need that fixed. He offered to do it and came to my house Saturday and fixed the door while I was in pre-date warmup for my evening with CL#4NewJersey.

Velvet: Thanks so much for fixing this. What do I owe you?
Painter: Why don’t you cook me dinner?
Velvet: Uh, I don’t cook. Why don’t I just give you some money?
Painter: Don’t worry about it.
Velvet: Come on, you bought the stuff to fix this, you have to let me give you something.
Painter: Ok. Ten bucks.

Velvet thinks: Sold! To the Handyman in my apartment with the giant belly!

By the way, tonight I made a delicious Minestrone soup, and I ate it alone. It was good. Last week I made seafood pasta in sherry cream sauce. But uh, yeah. I don’t cook.

Snark aside, why did I force the money on him? This is very important, pay attention foolish women who mooch favors from men by batting eyelashes: Once I paid for services rendered with the American Dollar, he could no longer feel as if I “owed” him something, i.e. a dinner that I didn’t want to have. Never accept a free favor from a person who you don’t want anything to do with. It was tacky of him to ask me out since I basically hired him to work for me. But it would be more tacky of me to not give him anything for the work, then avoid his advances.

Inappropriate Ask-Out Situation #2: Phil Hartman Reincarnated
Walking the dogs Sunday night. A man is standing on the sidewalk about 100 feet ahead of me. He turned around, spied me coming toward him and waited. He had that “I’m lost” look on his face. And here we go.

Phil Hartman’s Ghost: Can you tell me where the Dupont Market is?
Velvet: It’s on 18th Street, make a left up here. and a right on 18th.
PHG: What about a library? A real quiet one?
Velvet: I have no idea. Are you looking for a place with internet access or a true library?
PHG (acting if I just offered him Anthrax:) Oh NOO!!! I don’t want a place with internet.(Believe me, at this point, I knew I was in trouble and was happy I had left my wallet at home.)
Velvet: I’m sorry, I don’t know. There might be one down 17th Street.
PHG: Is it quiet?
Velvet: I really couldn’t tell you. I’m not even positive it exists.
PHG: So, dinner at your place or mine?
Velvet: (uncomfortably laughing and happy we are approaching dog park. Also happy that someone in the park has already called out to me “Hey Velvet! I had a dream about you last night.” I mean, really, could that have gone ANY better for me?)
PHG: Ok, where’s the market again?

There’s a lesson to be learned here as well. I think it might be “Don’t talk to strangers,” but I’m willing to hear everyone else’s opinons.

Inappropriate Non-Ask-Out Situation #3
Enter The Bartender, stage left. I got a message from him saying that he needed to talk to someone. I called him back and he told me that he really liked this girl and he was screwing up all over the place. He couldn’t manage to give her space, and he kept calling her or something. Ok. Two things. First, clearly, I’m no better off because I really like CL#4NewJersey and I have no idea what I’m doing. Second, why the FUCK are you calling a girl you used to date for advice? I know we’re cool and all, but not that cool. That’s just a little weird. But, it gets weirder. I have to temporarily violate my rule of not talking about sex, because this is just too good.

I get a text message from the bartender asking me the following: “What date did we have sex?” Huh? I wrote back and said, “Is this a trick question?” He called me and said he thinks it was the 14th of October or whatever. Since I don’t have diary to consult, I can’t exactly confirm this.

Velvet: I’m sorry, why are you asking me this? I have no freaking idea. I don’t keep it written down anywhere.
The Bartender: Well I’m getting serious with that girl and I want to get all my ducks in a row, so I’m getting tested.
Velvet: Do you find any of your recent calls to me mildly insulting to me?
The Bartender: What? I just asked you a question.
Velvet: Yeah, and it’s ridiculous for you to be asking me for advice on another girl and even more ridiculous that you are asking me when we had sex. Christ.
The Bartender: I don’t get it.
Velvet: You know, anything you say to me is subject to end up on the blog.

Look, you just can’t make this stuff up.

Oh Here it Comes, That Funny Feeling Again, Winding Me Up Inside Everytime We Touch

The Date Update.

CL#4NewJersey called me yesterday afternoon as I was in the middle of refinancing my condo so I could pay for my purchases at Target. (“I just need to pick up one thing.”) So I told him I would call him back when I got back into D.C. He said he wanted to go to the gym, and asked if he had time. I said “Of course – go right ahead. Let’s aim for 8?” We agreed, but I called him anyway when I got back to D.C. at 6:15. I left him a message, knowing he was at the gym and said he wouldn’t pick up, and then realized by 7:30 I had not heard from him. So I walked the dogs, but I was unsure about getting ready or not. By 8:00, I was half dressed and laying on my bed doing a crossword puzzle. Then he called.

Him: “I’m downstairs.”
Me: “Holy shit! What??”

I buzzed him in, he came up, walked in without knocking (I like that, but only because I feel comfortable with him) and then he bent down to play with the dogs. Any anger I had about not getting a heads up “I’m on my way” phone call disappeared as he bent down and asked Sammy how his back was feeling. I could so fall in love with this man. Jinx. Damn!

I finished getting ready as he watched T.V. and then he said, “It’s good to know that you’re late because I’m always late.” I said, “I wouldn’t have been late if you called and told me you were on your way.” He said with a big smile on his face and in his usual wiseass manner, “Oh, so it’s my fault you’re late?” Ok ok, so we have gotten into the method of his madness a little. Communication: not his forte.

Off in search of food, we decided on this massively popular sushi place near my place. The wait was 30 minutes, so we ran out to get a drink at another bar. We then returned to the restaurant for dinner. We got a nice table, tucked away in the corner with only a few other tables nearby. Once we ordered, this hilarious conversation commenced. We talked about work, but not boring operational things. These were stories about funny things that happened to him, to me – his boss egged him on to act like a fratboy and it caused someone to file a frivolous lawsuit, I’m a witness in a sexual harassment lawsuit.

CL#4NJ: All of a sudden I just realized that everyone is listening to us.
Velvet: That’s because we’re both laughing our asses off, and very loudly.
CL#4NJ (raising his voice): I’m not loud!!!
Velvet: HA! But if they are listening to us, why isn’t anyone else laughing? These stories are gold!
CL#4NJ: I don’t care if any of them are laughing. You are, and that’s all that matters.

Even though everyone was potentially listening to us, it didn’t matter. It seemed like we were the only people in there.

At some point during this conversation, I found the courage to ask what had been bothering me all week. We were talking about how our weeks were and I said, without thinking at all about it, “Were you busy? Was that why you were slow in answering emails?” He said, “Well, two things. One, yes I was busy, two I didn’t realize I was slow in answering emails.”

Ok, so I have two things here. He doesn’t return phone calls and he doesn’t always answer emails – for the reason seeming to be that he doesn’t call back when he doesn’t think there’s anything to say. I don’t know. So he’s bad at communication. Okay.

Before we left I dared him to flick the light switch behind where he was sitting. He did it, and the lights for the restaurant went off. I’m still laughing. All right, you could say I took advantage – I knew from stories he told that he could easily be egged on to do this. I’m ruthless and conniving when it comes to my own entertainment.

After dinner we went outside into the wind, dodged a witch on a bicycle, and walked back toward my place. But then we popped into another bar for another drink. We sat at one table at the edge of the restaurant. There was an empty table next to us, so he said, “You can sit over here with me if you want.” I squeezed into the booth next to him. Then some people came in and said to the table next to us, “You didn’t save our seats!” Then all of them looked at us. CL#4NewJersey said, “Ok, we’ll slide down, but just so you know, I won’t be able to properly grope her now.” They fired back with, “You can still grope her, no problem.”

Anyway, we literally sat there with our hands all over each other, finished our drinks, then left. We went back to my place, and after about 5 minutes of talking about watching TV, we started messing around. I decided it was best to keep him overnight, you know, for observation. We are still holding back somewhat, on all the good stuff. But other than that, it was an awesome night. I don’t like to touch or be touched when I’m sleeping. I’m no cuddler. But I like it with him. It’s nice to wake up in the middle of the night and feel that he’s holding my hand.

This morning when we woke up, he was rubbing Thora’s head because she crawled up and put it on his leg. The dogs and I walked him to his car. All of this is good so far, right? If we could stop right here, everything would be wonderful. But, no. We have strange goodbye #2. He said he had a good time and all that, but then he said, “If you want to get sushi again, let me know.” Huh?

Barbara already gave me some advice, which I love. She slapped me around mom-style. Well, not my mom’s style. My mom would spout out an unfounded insult about him, based on lies, to mask her disappointment that he’s not Greek. Barbara said: “Don’t start doubting a relationship that is still alive and seemingly well.”

I’ll try.

Tagged!

But first, two tidbits for you all.

1) Picture it. Tonight. Velvet walking dogs through the zone of bars, hopping with people drinking on patios. Velvet in sweatpants. Hair in ponytail. Rain making hair frizzy. Velvet sees the Bartender. Bartender looks very hot. Nice. Could I have looked any worse?

2) Velvet got a text from CL#4NewJersey. What. The. Fuck. Anyway, I called him back because I’ve grown tired of the waiting game. He seemed normal, exceptionally tired, so who the hell knows. Maybe he’s just not into emailing when he’s at work. I have no idea. I hope one day I can make him feel bad for making me feel sick to my stomach this week. I’mportant parts of convo:

CL#4NJ: How was your week?
Velvet: Good, other than the Sammy thing.
CL#4NJ: Have any dates with any cute guys?
Velvet: Not since last weekend.
CL#4NJ: What are your plans for tomorrow?
Velvet: Just running some errands, unless that’s your way of asking me if I’m free. (This was a line courtesy of my wonderful neighbors.)
CL#4NJ: Yes, I’m asking you that.
Velvet: Dueling crosswords?
CL#4NJ: One crossword would probably be more romantic. So, would you like to do something tomorrow?
Velvet: I would love to.

And with that, we have our plans. We’ll see.

_____________________________________________________

Now, I’ve been tagged.

Four jobs you have had:
1) Assistant Buyer
2) Restaurant Manager
3) Victoria’s Secret Salesgirl
4) Pizza Hut Waitress

Four movies you could watch over and over:
1) Almost Famous
2) Sliding Doors
3) Arthur
4) Loverboy

Four places you’ve lived:
1) Miami
2) Atlanta
3) Scottsdale
4) Connecticut

Four TV shows you love to watch:
1) Will & Grace
2) Seinfeld
3) Simpsons
4)

Four places you’ve been on vacation:
1) Martinique (“Get me off this island!!”)
2) Rome (Sitting in the Vatican, with Pope John Paul, thinking about getting back to D.C. to have sex with what’s-his-name. Oh, shut up. If I was going to hell, believe me, it was long before this.)
3) London (Mind the gap.)
4) Paris (“That married guy with the rotting teeth is hitting on you, isn’t he?”)

Four of your favorite foods:
1) Pizza
2) Cheese
3) Apple Crostada at Maggiano’s
4) Hot Peppers (They really make everything better.)
5) Peanut Butter (I know, I had to add an extra line. Sue me. Take it away from the TV Shows category, okay??)

Four places you’d rather be right now:
1) At CL#4NewJersey’s place
2) see above
3) see above
4) see above

Four sites I visit daily:
1) Yahoo real email account
2) Yahoo fake email account
3) Yahoo Velvet email account
4) This website that I hope I never end up on. Careful if you are at work, and try not to get addicted. Uh, Thanks Jo.

Four Bloggers you are tagging:
Barbara
AUA
Rhinestone Cowgirl
Sharkbait

There’s No Wrong or Right But Until You Try, You’re Never Gonna Know

All right. I appreciate every comment about the CL#4NewJersey thing. I’ve said it before: When feelings are potentially brewing for me, I start screwing up. I can manage with most of the men I go out with because I end up not caring one way or the other how it turns out. Obviously, this is different. My neighbor and friend Abby asked me last night what I was going to do about answering the email to CL#4NJ and I said, “Easy. I’m going to post it on the blog and see what everyone thinks.” So thank you to all of you.

What I decided to do was a quickie email back that simply said, “Cards? I will kick your ass at cards.” That was at 3:00 Thursday afternoon. All I can do is wait and see. But I assure you that I won’t be contacting him again, via text or email. The ball has ceremoniously been lobbed into his court.

I Wonder If The Way We Were Was Only In My Head

All right folks. Since Sammy appears to be on the mend, I can get back to dating for a moment.

You probably want updates on dates. Let’s start with the easy one, CL#5PornName. He emailed me the day after our date (last Wednesday) and said that he had a good time, and said I owed him a picture of my motorcycle. I obliged, and I haven’t heard anything back from him. As cute and fun as he was, he was missing a major ingredient of my wish list. A college degree. He even said something about “not needing school.” Uh, Velvet is a school loving, Valedictorian of her MBA class, woman. I love me some school. I don’t think there is a person alive who couldn’t benefit from learning some new things.

Now, we all know that CL#4NewJersey and I had a fab date on Friday that lasted until Saturday morning. What I didn’t mention after the date was that when we said goodbye, he hugged me and said, “Take care.” Not so much a fan of “take care.” I would have thought after the date we had that I would at least get, “I’ll talk to you later,” or “I’ll email you this week.” But nope. Take Care.

I didn’t think a lot of it, and I didn’t hear from him until Tuesday. He sent an email that simply said he had a great time with me, and he’s never had a “better movie night, in fact.” But then he said it ruined the rest of his weekend. Not sure how – I assume lack of sleep. So, I replied by saying that he’s old now, and perhaps he shouldn’t be partying like that anymore. I told him briefly about Sammy and the possible MRI. Then, because I’m known to sign off abruptly, I made sure to say, “I had a good time too – blush.” I left it at that. That was Tuesday afternoon that I sent it back. I heard nothing back all day.

By Wednesday around noon, I was seriously wondering if Yahoo was having issues, not because I feel like making excuses for him – believe me, I don’t. But, because I’ve had several emails go unanswered from normally responsive people. So I decided to step away from the computer entirely and try another method. Don’t laugh. I sent him a text message telling him that I did reply and am not sure what’s up with Yahoo. Then I get an email back within an hour that said he received my text, the email below his was the last he received from me (which was the right email) and sent wishes for Sammy. He ended it by saying that he is getting old and perhaps on our next date we could play cards. I haven’t written back.

All right people. What the hell is going on here? It smells of the usual tricks of the men I end up liking. I’m sure some of you will say he’s playing games, I’m sure some of you will say he’s just busy at work. I do know this: Something isn’t passing the sniff test.

I’m not a beginner in the world of dating. I don’t look for chemistry where there isn’t any. I don’t think every man is my soulmate – obviously. But despite my sometimes insecure nature, I sure as shit know when a man is into me. Our conversations were nothing short of amazing, in sync, completely screaming of two people who were totally into each other. To listen to him talk was like listening to the thoughts that run through my own head. It was weird, and surreal. I didn’t think I had him pegged wrong – but then again, I pegged BoyFace completely wrong.

Damn. I hate it when I really like someone. I hate when I could potentially see us together. This is when I start making all sorts of mistakes. Emailing and then texting the next day is bad for business. I know better than this. I must find my copy of “He’s Just Not That Into You” and read my little head off.

Thinking about going back on Craigslist to keep more in the pipeline, since CL#5PornName seems to have disappeared and CL#4NewJersey might be on his way to another woman’s house.

MRI on Hold

Apparently I was wrong. There IS going back. I went out last night and came home around midnight to find a happy, peppy little Sammy. At first he didn’t come right to the door, so I thought he was dead, but then he came out to say hi and his tail was up for the first time in days. Is it possible that all that pain medicine he was on was confusing the issue?

Anyway, the MRI was put on hold and the little guy is sleeping soundly in his bed. Thank you to everyone who has been giving words of encouragement. I need to watch him, see how he does, and decide what to do from there. The bottom line is that this spine problem, even if it is going away now, will probably manifest itself again in the future. So I’m not opposed to getting this MRI done.

Thomas – you’ve left a lot of comments that I have tried to reply to by email and you don’t seem to be getting them. I sent one last night again, let me know if you didn’t receive it and I’ll send from another email address.

Sammy Update

I just spent $2300 at the Neurologist. Let me say that again, because I’m not sure those in the back heard. I just spent $2300 at the Neurologist.

Sammy is having an MRI tomorrow morning. I’m really into it now. There’s no going back. For the skeptics who suggested putting him down, (don’t worry, it’s not any of you supportive readers, it’s people who I share blood with,) do you get it? Does the fact that Citibank Visa is moving me to their “best customers” list as we speak, tell you that I have no intention of giving up? Good lord, if I can get my ass out there and date loser after loser, I most certainly can max out a few credit cards in the name of love for my dog.

You can tell by looking at him, he just doesn’t feel good. Well, he is still managing to check out his good looks in the mirror.

Something More I’mportant Than Dating

I’ve refrained from mentioning any of this, because I really can’t talk about it without sobbing uncontrollably. But, Sammy, little dog, love of my life, is very ill.

The facts:

Thursday morning he woke up and wouldn’t get out of bed. He sat up on his front paws but was staring down, as if he was still asleep. When I got him outside for a walk, he was barely moving.Half way through the walk, his back legs started to tremble. His head and tail were down the whole time. I figured he was not feeling well with the extra rawhide he got a hold of on Wednesday. But we went to the vet. They took blood and did an exam. Said nothing was abnormal. They put him on anti-inflammatory medicine and also gave me painkillers.

Friday morning, he woke up and the same thing happened. Except he really couldn’t make it through his walk. Now all 4 legs are shaking. I went back to the vet again, and they took x-rays. They said they can’t figure it out, but to keep him on the painkillers.


Saturday morning he couldn’t walk without being in pain. He tried to get me to pick him up by standing on his back legs, and he started to shreik. This is very unlike him. He doesn’t cry out in pain unless it’s bad. When I even touched his front paw, he cried. My neighbor drove us to the vet. In the car when we went over a bump he cried in pain. The x-rays don’t seem to show anything they can figure out. The vet gave us more medicine but said there was nothing more they could do. My next stop is a Neurologist. They recommended South Paws in Fairfax.

Sunday he was limping.

Today, Monday, he was on his walk and half way through his tail went down, his head went down and he started heading toward home. When I took him off the leash, he ran to the front door of my building.


Sammy is 6. He’s a corgi mix, and they seem to be prone to having back problems. He had a back problem once before due to a disc that was rubbing his spine, but he was 2 and he got through it. This seems to be getting worse by the day. I have an appointment at South Paws tomorrow at 12:30.

Can anyone help me or tell me anything about South Paws, what could be causing this problem, what the outcome might be? All anyone keeps saying to me is that he will be ok, but I’m skeptical.

Dating stops until my dog is better. The only man who matters right now is Sammy. Sorry folks.

Someone Googled Roller Derby DC…

…and got to my blog because months ago, I made a call to all on this topic. I’m still interested in setting up a league, and now that the fab white trash Rollergirls show has made it to A & E, I’m hoping TV can deliver on it’s ability to plant ideas in people’s heads. Whoever it was…email me. I’ve got a list of girls who will participate. Just gotta find a rink. I would even start a side blog about Roller Derby. I’m set.

Ready to beat some girl ass,
Velvet

When I Walked Into Your House, I Knew I’d Never Wanna Leave

My second date with CL#4NewJersey occured last night. He picked me up and we went to see Match Point at the E Street Theatre. We got tickets, then went for a couple drinks before the movie. This man just makes me smile. I don’t know what else to say…which of course is the obvious sign that I like him.

During the movie he held my hand. While it felt very natural, I was also bubbling over with excitement. Nothing felt wrong about this. I briefly thought of all the dates I have had over the past six months, since I last came to the E Street theatre with a date, and I can’t think of one who I liked enough to hold his hand. I also can’t think of one date who I would have leaned on and put my head on his arm. It’s one thing to allow a man’s affection into your territory and to accept it no matter your feelings for him. But when you move your affection into his territory, it’s another story. I couldn’t be affectionate with someone I felt nothing for, or only had half-hearted feelings for.

After the movie, we came back up to my neighborhood, parked the car and went to the infamous “Fox and Hounds.” It’s infamous because they give you a glass full of whatever alcohol you ordered, and bring the mixer, in my case it was tonic, in a bottle. You mix the drink yourself. My first drink was filled to the rim with Gin, and there was no way I was getting any of the tonic into that glass. So I had to suck down some Gin to make room for the tonic. By the end of my second glass of Gin, I was drunk. Then we left.

Since his car was double parked in our building’s driveway, I said, “Why don’t you move your car now? I bet you could get a spot easy.” Then he said, “Ma’am, are you inviting me up?” Oops. Velvet is not so subtle. I said, “Yes, but we’re not having sex.” This results him busting out in laughter and he said, “Ok.”

So we go upstairs, and he meets the pups, and then he says, “Do these guys need a walk?” I said, “I should probably do that.” So he said, “I’ll come with you.” Wow. The boy just earned major points. Ahem. Dude I adored never came with me to walk the dogs. (Stttrike!) When we went outside, we bumped into one of my neighbors holding hands with a man I last knew to be her ex-boyfriend. And she sees me and we both had this look on our face like, “Who is that guy you are with?” But we just exchanged all the introductions and left it at that.

Dogs walked, we made it back inside. I put on some Rolling Stones and we sat on the couch. Fooling around commences. This man….he’s just great. I can’t explain it, but he’s just great. By 5 a.m. he was getting ready to leave, and I heard the words, “Why don’t you just stay here?” I had to look around to see who said them, but it was none other than yours truly. Yup. Velvet who hates sharing the bed with anyone but the dogs, invited a man to stay over for sleep purposes only. What. The. Hell.

He stayed. We kept to our non-sex agreement (woo hoo!) and he left this morning. When we were waiting for the elevator, we got so busted by Abby in the hall. I could not stop laughing as I said, “Uh, this is CL#4NewJersey…we went out last night. You have so caught me.”

But, I cannot think of another man right now who I would rather be caught with.

Right Or Wrong I Wrote You This Song To Tell You How I Feel

When it rains, it fucking pours. Where are all these men coming from???

It was two years ago from this past Christmas that I called the time of death on my six year relationship with my ex. I went out on the prowl for a rebound guy and I found him. RockStar ended up being the best 3 month relationship I could have asked for. Plays in a band, hence the name. He’s probably the coolest ex-boyfriend I lay claim to in my portfolio.

A few months ago I told him about the blog. I haven’t really been in touch with him, but got an email today from him saying that he had been reading my blog and he saw a girl recently who could have been my twin. I had to respond to that with my usual snarky comment. Here we go. Edited for length only.

Velvet’s Response: Did you have sex with that girl? Was she as good as me? Doubt it.
RockStar: Just met her once, so no. The only reason I talked to her was because she looked like you. If you lived closer I bet we would still be together.
Velvet: Why do you have to live in Timonium?
RockStar: I’m moving soon, but not to D.C. Are you still a vegetarian? I have some meat for you…

And there you go. Email exchanges with RockStar are like the old “Name That Tune” in theme.
“I bet we’ll talk about sex in three exchanges.”
“I say two.”
“I will get him to talk about sex in one exchange.”

Then it moved to IM.
RockStar: Hi
Velvet: Great. Now I can’t stop thinking about you.
RockStar: I know the feeling.
Velvet: I might have to write about you.
RockStar: And piss off those 2 guys?
Velvet: They know nothing of the blog, and never will.
RockStar: I was just thinking about how good you {bleeeeeeeeeep.}
Velvet: That was very dirty. Be forewarned that anything you say is subject to end up in the blog.
RockStar: Do you miss my massive {bleep.}
Velvet: I’m having a fit over here.
RockStar: What kind of fit?
Velvet: I’m thinking. Just thinking.
RockStar: About?
Velvet: About what I’m going to let you do to me when I see you.

All right. You get the idea. At this point the conversation got extremely graphic and X-Rated. I’ll email it to anyone who asks. But I’m not posting it.

Ok, what lesson is to be learned from all this? Men see that you have other men around you and in your life, and their little subconscious kicks in. They think, “Wow, that girl has guys on her ass…she must be attractive…I should want her…Hey, I think I want that girl…Ok, I must have that girl.” They tell their friends they won you from a bunch of other suitors. They feel validated that they are still attractive. Ladies, this is the Law of Momentum. The more men you have, the more men you can get. Why stop at one?

I Wanna Shine On In The Hearts Of Men

Those fuckers at It’s Just Lunch called me today and well, we sort of had a fight. They were yelling that they going to put me on “hold” and I said something about them being incomptent and I just want to be finished with them. I used the words, “Bring on the dates.” Something tells me I won’t be hearing from them again. Good. I hope they die.

On to happier things…

CL#4NewJersey and I tossed a few emails back and forth today. I really like him. He is sharp, very witty and there’s just a little something there for me. It looks promising from my end. We’re planning to get together on Saturday. Originally he asked me to do something tonight but uh…keep reading.

CL#5PornName and I had our first date. He is so freaking adorable. How did I bomb out on Craigslist the first time and now I have two champs? Anyway, we met at a bar on U Street, talked up a storm for a couple hours, then he drove me back to my building, we hugged goodbye and that was that. No inappropriate kissing and groping, just like with CL#4NewJersey. So, I’m happy with this one as well. Might I add that I was especially charming tonight too.

But then my charm ran out. Earlier today I sucked up my guilt and called CL#1Writer. He called back when I was out with CL#5PornName. When I was walking doggies, I called him back, so I could get it over with. We made the obligatory small talk as I walked around the block. Here we go.

CL#1: So, we should get together again.
Velvet: I have to tell you something.
CL#1: Okay???
Velvet: I have given this a lot of thought, and I am not feeling the chemistry with you. I’m sorry.
CL#1: Really? (The really was said with a tone as if I had just said, “George Bush is the best President ever.” It was incredulous, like he couldn’t believe me…which leads me to wonder, Did I somehow lead him on???)
Velvet: Yes. I’m not sure why. You have everything I would be looking for in someone, but that final piece just isn’t there for me.
CL#1: Hmmph

The conversation lost pace for a few minutes. He was really quiet and he didn’t say anything at all. There were grunts and uh-huh’s and I realized that it could go on forever if I didn’t put a stop to it. So I made the move to say goodbye and it was a struggle, but I finally got off the phone with him. The curtain has fallen on CL#1Writer.

I realize that it is a blow to someone’s ego to hear those words. I don’t think CL#1Writer or any other man I use that line on should be put off by what I said. It might not be nice, it might not be politically correct, but it’s the truth. I would love for my ex to call me and tell me why he doesn’t want to be with me. I deserve the truth after almost a year of dating. But I can’t change that situation, I can’t force him to tell me. I can only do my part, and I think the people I date deserve to know.

Chemistry is elusive. We have chemistry with people who are right for us and people who are not. We have to differentiate between the two and make wise choices for ourselves. I would like to think that I have done that in this situation, with class and maturity.

I’m The Cream Of The Crop, I Rise To The Top

I know, I know. I have some things to cover regarding the Craigslist guys.

CL#1Writer. Ok. I was lame and never returned his call from just after Christmas. I just didn’t feel like telling him I had no chemistry with him. I justified it with the following information which I left out of prior posts.

The first night I went to his apartment for just a glass of wine, we both knew we were squeezing it in early in the evening as I had dinner plans with BestGuyFriend-M who happens to live in the same building. Once CL#1Writer realized BestGuyFriend-M would be picking me up directly from his house, and that he wouldn’t get to say goodbye to me alone, he forced an opportunity to jam his tongue in my mouth at the most inappropriate point in the conversation. I didn’t like that he forced a kiss so soon into our meeting, but what I didn’t like more was his fingertips tracing the V in my V-neck sweater and then grazing across my tits. Not cool.

On our second date, he wanted to meet the dogs. Why I didn’t say, “I’m tired, can we call it a night” is so beyond me. I have this stupid need to be nice to people and I have to remember that I’m not in the business of being nice. (Those in the back can stop snickering now.) So when he was in my apartment, he was kissing me and his damn octopus hands were all over me. Up the back of my sweater, on top of my sweater on the girls again. Come on dude, you clearly see that I’m barely reciprocating in this kiss, why the fuck are you trying to get me in bed? Ugh.

Anyway, the whole behavior bothered me but I couldn’t really put it into words right away. So, here it is. I didn’t feel guilty about not calling him back because I think he just wanted to nail me. But now, I have a small problem. He called again as I was having dinner with my girls. Now what. I really should call him back.

Regarding CL#2BlueEyes, we’ve played phone tag, it’s his turn, and I haven’t heard squat. I’m prepared to let it go if I don’t hear from him. Too bad. He was very hot.

CL#3TextTormenter. I put the rope around the neck of this, whatever it was, all by myself. (Well, his attitude helped.) He got back to town after Christmas and oh so wanted to see me. We had the day of annoying communication that I wrote about in the blog. I won’t link to it because it’s not worth reading and I feel like an egomaniac linking to myself. But I was supposed to go meet him at a bar, I bailed, took a nap, posted another Craigslist ad, got 55 replies, didn’t feel like doing anything other than writing back to those men, called CL#3TextTormenter and said I was sorry and he was still out drinking like 11 hours later. I really don’t need someone like that in my life. I hate drunks and I hate attitude. He was/had both of those things (slander slander slander) and it isn’t worth my time for someone I am not apparently attracted to. He emailed me today but it died out when I stopped writing back. He also texted yesterday but I didn’t answer. I’m very bad at tying up loose ends, but I need to tell both of those guys that I’m not interested. They don’t get a hint and just because they would blow me off if they didn’t like me, doesn’t mean I should do it to them. See? There’s New Year’s Resolution 2003 rearing it’s head on me.

The new Craigslist ad yielded a bunch of other men, but only two have risen to the top of the heap. Now we have CL#4NewJersey and CL#5PornName.

CL#4NewJersey and I have already gone out. I had to squeeze another man in before the end of 2005 so I could keep up with Jamy. Ok, just kidding. The honest, honest, honest truth was that he asked me to go to a movie last Friday and my hair looked good so I decided to be spontaneous and just go. We met at Dupont Circle and saw Capote. He looks like Ryan Seacrest to me. So, yes, he’s hot. He has a good job and a masters degree. And he’s from New Jersey. Ding Ding Ding Ding Ding.

For some reason, when someone is from the New York Metropolitan area, I am seriously sucked in. Something appeals to me about the idea of dating someone who grew up in the same atmosphere, who understands why Frank Sinatra sang “I want to wake up in a city that never sleeps,” who knows which two towns the George Washington Bridge connect. I don’t know why I have this extra affection toward my fellow New Yorkers, but I do. I noticed that both CL#1Writer and CL#3 TextTormenter both grew up “out west” and that’s just something I can’t relate to. I guess it’s stupid because we are all technically Americans, but, it’s me and I can’t change it.

CL#5PornName and I are meeting on Wednesday. You all know I use an alias name that is basically a porn star sounding name, crafted from an old friend’s last name and a basic first name to make both names start with the same first letter. I foolishly wrote it in the blog at one point, forgetting that my Craigslist lovers can Google it and end up on my blog. It’s been deleted and seems to be gone out of Google, finally. Everyone knows that the real way to craft a porn star name is by taking your middle name and the street you grew up on. Mine ends up being stupid because I don’t have a middle name, only an initial. Why am I going on and on about this?

CL#5PornName told me his email name was his porn name and then told me his real name. I could not stop laughing and told him that my fake email is my porn name too. It’s a match made in, well, porn heaven. He sounds incredibly fun, but he’s a few years younger than me. Not sure how I feel about that, but we’ll see.

P.S. I think I might like CL#4NewJersey. I had a bunch of emails today and I giggled and opened the one from him first. Uh oh. I don’t giggle, and I don’t pick and choose email from my inbox. I open in order. Hmmph.

New Year’s Resolution

I may suck at dating, but I do make some really great resolutions. I hate that crap of “Lose 10 pounds” or some other ridiculous statement that I may or may not ever attain. I decided to make more thoughtful resolutions and put them into practice, not just for the year, but for my life.

That being said, two of my past resolutions were:

2003: To not treat someone a certain way just because they treated me that way. For example, just because someone is a total asshole to me, doesn’t mean I should reciprocate. Instead, I should continue to be myself and hold myself to the same (hopefully high) standard.

2004: Be the Bigger Person. Sometimes this is exhausting, but, I still do my best to overlook other people’s faults and just suck up my pride.

2005: I attempted to really perfect the above resolutions, by focusing on both for another year.

I know, you are expecting me to make a dating related resolution. But, ha! I’m not going to do that. Besides, what kind of resolution would I make? Date 30 men and top the 25 from last year? That’s not helpful, nor is it conducive to the true end goal of finding a meaningful, lasting relationship.

And the unveiling of the 2006 resolution:

Discard any selfish people who so obviously have their own agenda’s (friends and/or family) out of my life. I no longer have time to participate in one-sided relationships.

You’ll all be so proud. I’ve already put it into practice. I know that it seems to conflict with my earlier resolutions. But try to view them in order. I tried first to treat people right, but obviously I could only take so much of that, so I had to resolve to be the bigger person in all scenarios that I can’t control. Now I’m allowing myself the ability to just stop talking to people entirely. This might not be the best way to handle things, but I feel that there are some people who have had more than their share of chances. It’s not like there’s one disagreement and I bail out of the relationship. I’m talking about unproductive selfish relationships that have manifested themselves over a period of years, not days.

I’m giddy with excitement. Happy New Year!

2005 ~ The Year in Review

I can’t take credit for this idea. One of my favorite bloggers utilized this end of year wrap up in her blog last year.

January – Started the new year off right. The morning of January 1, I left a guy’s house who I was sort of dating for almost a year, and despite how badly I wanted this to work, , we never saw each other again in a romantic setting. If we count him, he’s #1 in the lineup of men. Bought my condo in D.C. and prepared to finish the last days of life in the burbs (Rockville.)

February – Finally resigned from the hell that was my last job. One would think that things like discrimination and sexual harassment wouldn’t occur at one of the top five Nationally Ranked Homebuilders, but they did. And they went uncorrected, unresolved and unpunished. So I left. How dare anyone breathe the words “A woman should never make that much money.” Then I met Date #2 in 2005 Vicodin Stealing Derek, got ill, then became iller.

March – Couldn’t fight illness, coined “Satan’s Death Flu” by friends. Crawled to the ER and passed out on the floor. Finally recovered mid-month, but never recovered from fainting spells. Started new job with my fab boss who took me with him from hellacious homebuilder.

April – Moved into condo in D.C. after 3 ridiculous months prodding contractor to do some work. Went on one awful date with RestonDork (#3 date of 2005.) Also one date with Greek George (#4 of 2005.) Learned valuable lesson: The bigger the man, the smaller the…Damn it. Sorry, this is a dating blog, not a sex blog.

May – Went to London and Paris. Started seeing Mike (40 years old and going on 15.) Date #5 of 2005. We did see each other for a couple months.

June – Had some bad It’s Just Lunch dates which prompted me to give birth to this Blog. I went out with a IJLHater (Date #6) and a StanderUpper (Date #7.)

July – Met, got sucked into, and spit out of vortex called BoyFace (#8). Also dated HornyHungarian (Date #9.) More It’s Just Lunch dates included IJLLawyer (#10,) GreekFreak (#11) and DoubleDutch (#12.) Took motorcycle lessons. Bought Motorcycle. Met MotorcycleInstructor.

August – Dated MotorcycleInstructor. He would be #13. Also squeezed in a couple dates with the the first of the unnamed men, “R” (#14.) More It’s Just Lunch dates, HarleyRider (#15) and EmailBuddy (#16.)

September – Went out with the GreekWonder (#17.) Cutest baby in the world born on 24th. Became caught in the grip of lies created by MotorcycleInstructor.

October – Visited cutest baby in the world in Michigan. Met Bartender at Blogger Happy Hour, briefly dated. (He’s #18.) Got Death Flu again.

November – Who can forget Bell’s Palsy? Went out with Steve1 (#19) from online and Date Eight (#20 of the lineup) from It’s Just Lunch. Reconsidered using real names as part of my blog. Still reconsidering.

December – It’s Just Lunch sent me out with Date#9LowTalker (#21) and I went out with my personal trainer (#22) as well as CL#1Writer (#23,) CL#3TextTormenter (#24,) and CL#4NewJersey (#25.) He’s new. You will hear about him in an upcoming post.

I find it sad that I dated men with names that never overlapped with the exception of Mike. I dated 5 Mike’s this year, four of whom are disguised with other names. I dated 25 men in total for 2005. In any case, the score is as follows:

Velvet: 0
Potential Dating Pool: -25

Yes, it’s very sad to see the figures in the red, but there they stand. I was/am clearly in love with U-Street Metro. I felt like BoyFace could be the U-Street Metro replacement until I found out what a liar he was. I think that shook my faith in men and this thing we call dating. I know that there really are guys out there who are right for me, but it makes it hard to believe after the year I’ve had. Still, I plan to continue on, meeting, greeting, dating and hopefully mating in the future. I will bring the news to you, my lovely readers, as it occurs.

Here’s to hoping the dating news in 2006 will be brighter! Cheers!

I Heard You Found Somebody New And That I Never Meant That Much To You

Well, the art of timing is really fucking me in the ass today.

Went to the gym. Saw the trainer. Had to have a couple minutes of awkward talk as he was in one of the down moods i.e. not lavishing me with hugs. Then he meandered off and as I was finishing, I saw him standing at the top of the stairs talking to some girl. I thought about tapping her on the shoulder and saying, “Don’t bother, he’s totally bi-polar.” I had to walk right by them to go downstairs to the street.

Bottom of the stairs. Bam. Right into the one that got away. So there were a few more minutes of awkward talk.

I stumbled over my words and stumbled out the door, shaking like a 7th grader.

Crazy, Crazy On You

Scroll down. I’m posting like every hour now. These guys are FREAKS. I would like to state for the record, that these pics with the shirt off are completely ridiculous. About 50% of my responses are shirtless.

New Freak’s first email to me:
Wow, you’re right, according to your ad you’re not like most girls. Well, you sound laid-back, and I like that quality in a woman. Hi, my name is Chris, and I live in DC. I’m 30 years old, 5’10, with short brown hair, and light green eyes. I work out 4 times a week, but mainly just cardio, so I have a decent body. I like to have a good time, but can also carry on a good conversation. I like movies, art, going out to dinner, or just sipping mint tea in Adams Morgan. I’ve lived in DC for the past 8 years, and I know all the best places to eat! If you’re interested in meeting a warm person with a good sense of humor, then we should get together for that mint tea. Talk to you soon! Chris 🙂

Ok. This man is not Velvet’s type. So I email back:
You men and your shirt off pictures are everywhere. I have more men with their shirt off pics in my inbox than, well, anyone else I know. I don’t think we are a match though. Thank you for the email.

And I get this:
Well, that’s the only pic I had at work. Hmm, maybe you’re not as laid-back as you once proclaimed missy.

And I think: Dickwad. So I write this:
Ok. Now I have to ask. Why on earth would you have that picture at work? My my.

So he writes this:
I grabbed it from an old email…….wow, you are DEFINITELY not laid-back at all!

And I write:
What are you talking about? This is hilarious. You had a half naked pic of yourself at work. Hilarious.

So I get this:
LAID BACK: adj. not taking things too seriously, willing to accept unconventional ideas without scorn. See also: not Stacy. It’s hilarious that I had a picture of myself in Ocean City at the beach in my email folder? Half-naked? Hahahahahahahaa you sound like a 12 year old. Seriously, I definitely don’t want to hang out with someone who thinks a guy in swim trunks is showing too much skin. Oh, by the way, the 1920s called. They want their sense of shame back.

And I write:
Wow. You are snippy. I’m totally joking with you. When you grab your dictionary again, look up “psycho” and see if your pic is there. Christ. You are a mess aren’t you.

He comes back with an email that says he’s not serious, he’s being sarcastic. And I say, I’ve already had one unravel today so I wasn’t surprised actually. Then he writes back and says, “Ok, send a picture.”

I don’t wanna. He grosses me out now.

Ten minutes after the last email, he sends another one: “Seriously, are you going to send that picture?” Ten more minutes after that, “Yeah, you suck.”

What is wrong with these people? No wonder these deranged defects are single. Wait. What does that say about me? Damn.

Go Crazy On You

Dear Female Friends:

This man is certifiably insane. Do not date him.

He is a Craigslister Gone Crazy. He sent me an email with this picture attached and said, “Quick, don’t think. Just send a pic.” So Velvet complies, and he writes back and says, “You’re cute. IM me at XXXX.”

I send him an IM explaining who I am and why my IM id is different from my email and he says, “What can I do for you?” I said, “You just sent me an email 3 minutes ago telling me to IM you. So I’m IM’ing you.” Then he tells me I’m “Fucking clueless and a lier.” Yes, he spelled liar like that. This madness went on for a minute and I said, “Look, you fucking told me to IM you so I did. If you are going to call someone a liar, at least learn how to fucking spell it.” Then I logged out. But he squeezed one quick message in that said “ok, bye.”

Why are these crazy people out walking our streets? It’s scary. Well, he was one of my 5 hot men, so he’s out. Down to 4.

My Fantasy Has Turned To Madness

Since I seem to be running out of men, I posted another Craigslist ad at 5:00 Wednesday night. I texted CL#3TextTormenter and said I couldn’t make it. I got incredibly tired and just didn’t feel like leaving the house, and eventually, my bed. I fell asleep at 6:00 and woke up at 8:00. And I had 26 messages in my inbox from Craigslist. One was an old email from the elusive CL#2BlueEyes, and yes, he still wants to meet. He’s very hot. I still want to meet too.

To answer Rhinestone Cowgirl’s question, I never told CL#1Writer that he was out. I should have, and I felt bad about it, until oh, about 10:00 p.m. when I was in the midst of writing back to some amazingly hot men who contacted me and a new message popped into my inbox from, you guessed it. CL#1Writer. So, he’s looking for chemistry (aren’t we all?) and he said my ad sounded wonderful, blah blah blah. So, he’s fine. He’ll live.

I am really surprised that the week between Christmas and New Years has yielded some of these fine specimens, but it has. I’m up to about 45 emails as of 11:00 p.m. Wednesday night, answered almost all of them, if only to say to some that they aren’t my type. And there you have it. I’m in full on email convos with a man with a six pack (not the kind you buy at a liquor store,) a man who looks like he just fell out of a British rock band, another who wrote all the same stuff about himself that I would have written I would be looking for, another who looks like Tom Cruise but hopefully less crazy. So we’ll see what the next few days bring.

So What’ll Happen To You Baby, Guess We’ll Have To Wait & See

I never called CL#3TextTormenter back last night. It was my plan to at least leave a message when he was on the plane flying back, but I got a little lazy. This morning, as I was wondering if I should call him, he called. But I didn’t pick up. I don’t know why. I didn’t feel like it. Then the text messages begin:

CL#3TT: Call Screener! No more calls now. Only texts.
Velvet: Just cause I don’t answer the phone doesn’t mean I’m screening. Ever heard of being unable to get to the phone?
CL#3TT: I hear ya. I thought I’ve called a few times over the last few days.
Velvet: Just last night and this morning.
CL#3TT: Feel free to call me back whenever you get the time.

So I went out to walk the dogs and I called. It was an infuriating conversation. When he and I were first emailing, we had this long stream going back and forth. He asked me a bunch of questions in one of his emails, I answered and didn’t hear back. Since I seem to (still) be having problems with Yahoo mail, I rewrote and asked if he got the last email. He seems to have taken that as a sign for non-stop communication. He keeps bringing that up. Ok, so we’re on the phone when I’m outside letting my dogs have their off-leash way with Dupont Circle. He tells me he is coming into D.C. to meet some friends and wants to meet up with me. I say I have a few things to do but that sounds like it might be ok. He says he will call later with the time. Fine.

More texts:
CL#3TT: Should I call or text?
Velvet: Call

But then, and I swear I’m not lying, I got a work related call. So I picked that up and then when he called I said, “I just got a call, I have to call you back in a few.” He started bitching at me and I said, “Goodbye! I’ll call you back.”

I am having a massive issue with our new office. I ordered the top of the line furniture and it got damaged over the weekend and no one is fessing up. So I was in the midst of these phone calls and then I called him back when that settled. He was like, “You were the one who emails me asking what happened to me, so I call you a few times and you freak out.” I remind him this is my work phone and I’m working he says he’s just kidding. But it still annoys me. Now, let’s debrief for a second.

That email where I followed up a second time was WEEKS AGO. We have had numerous phone calls and numerous text messages since then, and never once since then have I called or texted or emailed two times in a row. Yet, he keeps bringing it up. This is maddening. I don’t know why he’s so incredibly insecure. Someone must have really done a number on him.

Anyway, I’ve now received a text that he’s on his way into the city and said he will see me soon and he’ll buy. Then he sent a follow-up that said something about owing me some relaxation. Ok, there. Finally. Perhaps if he would just chill out a little, this could go on.

Why do I attract people who think it is OK to call me in the middle of the night? As soon as I jettison some asshole out of my life who is a drink and dialer, I get another one. For many years I had Jake, the cracked out friend of an ex-boyfriend who had all these emotional problems. I had to set him straight, but it took a long time. Then I had The Bartender. Then CL#3TextTormenter tried that shit and I put a stop to it. So I think I’m in the clear but The Bartender fucking called me at 1:45 a.m. last night. This is not cool. Yes, I am speaking directly to you! I’ll use caps since I know you like that.

  • To The Bartender: STOP CALLING ME BETWEEN THE HOURS OF MIDNIGHT AND 7 A.M. I do not have a job that allows me to drink all night and stay awake calling people. Therefore, I have to get to bed at a decent hour and I have to wake up at a decent hour. Despite the pattern of months past where I have been working from home, the sleeping until 10:00 a.m. days for me are over. OVER. This phone must be able to stay on overnight for emergencies. If you continue to call me in the middle of the night, I will show up at your bar and tell all your new girlfriends that you have a gift that keeps on giving* ensuring that you will never have sex in this town again. Don’t think I can’t do it. I will out you on this blog, name and all, and ruin you! HA!

*People, please. Velvet keeps her motor clean. Do not even begin to worry about this. It is a ploy to beat The Bartender into submission. You must know that when it’s down to a man vs. Velvet, Velvet always wins.

Do I Seem All That Hard? Is It All That Tough?

Do I need to go to Dating AA?

CL#3 is on his way back from wherever he was for the Hellidays. He sent me a text message that said, “Are you around?” followed by an almost immediate phone call which I didn’t answer. Hey, I was at the dog park and I was throwing the ball for Thora, so I was “busy.” Then I got another text that said, “I’m at the airport and I’m about to take off and I wanted to talk to you before I did. You’ve been elusive the past few days.”

Nothing gets by you, CL#3TextTormenter. Elusive. Shit son, I’ll show YOU elusive.

It Wasn’t That Hard To Figure You Out

Some quick updates.

CL#1Writer: I called him back Thursday night and left a message. As I was leaving said message, he called on the other line because he probably just missed my call. I still left a message but I said, “Hey, I know I owe you a phone call, it’s been a hell of a week. Sorry about that, but I wanted to call you back. Bye.” Even though I didn’t say “Give me a call” I thought maybe that could be read between the lines. Then he called again, but I didn’t answer because I’m a chicken. I left it at that. But then I felt guilty, so I sent an email on Friday saying that I left him a message back, etc. I didn’t hear back from him until today, and I almost thought I was in the clear. But no. I need to stop being a child and just tell him I’m not feeling this.

CL#3TextTormenter and I had a date on Friday for lunch. After lunch we went out for a drink and played Megatouch (loves it) at a bar. He was a lot more touchy feely than I would have liked. I’m not sure what it is with men who are instantly affectionate; For me, affection builds with time. I may not hold someone’s hand on the first few dates, but after a bit I will develop the desire to hold their hand. Or not. Depends on the person I guess. Anyway, when we were saying goodbye on the corner of 19th & L:

CL#3: I don’t like this.
Velvet: What?
CL#3: Saying goodbye in a public place.
Velvet: Huh. Well, it works for me.
CL#3: Well you should have me come back to your place.
Velvet: No
CL#3: Well, I have to meet a friend, can I see you later?
Velvet: A second date on the same day?
CL#3: Yes. I want to see you before I fly out tomorrow.
Velvet: I guess so. I have some things to do.
CL#3: Well, it wouldn’t be until later.
Velvet: Fine.

At that point we said goodbye. There was a minor kiss, a bit of tongue. Whereas with CL#1Writer, I knew I had no connection with him, I don’t feel that way here with CL#3TextTormenter. I’m not feeling the green light, but I certainly don’t want to never see him again. Well…maybe.

So the night comes and goes and guess who I never hear from? At 7:00 p.m. Christmas Eve I got a voicemail from him saying that he was sorry about last night, he got drunk, blah blah blah, was in Atlanta waiting for his connecting flight, blah blah blah. Do I care? Nope. I didn’t call back.

Christmas morning he sent me a “Merry Christmas” text asking if I got his message about the prior night. I said, “You too, and no prob. on Friday.” He wrote back and said something about me being a cool chick or whatever, and he wants to see me when he gets back. Then today he sent some messages about wanting to see me Wednesday or Thursday. Whatevs. He sent that message 3 times before I answered it. I finally said, “Not sure what I have going on but we can work something out.”

These men are hilarious. The more I back away (a.k.a. play hard to get) the more they are on my ass. This “hard to get” thing is definitely an old game, but I’ve read a fabulous book that teaches a new twist on this. Instead of ignoring 95% of the phone calls, you answer most of them and say things like that you are/were busy anyway or you couldn’t have possibly seen him because some “friends” came over and you went out. He’s already proven himself to be a Kennedy in training, as in he drinks a whole hell of a lot. The idea of him doesn’t gross me out, he’s attractive and nice enough, but he definitely has those dick qualities that desensitize me from feeling bad about any of my behavior. It’s on. Let’s go little boy.

A Christmas Warm & Fuzzy

In the spirit of hating my parents, I’m going to tell you about Christmas 2000 at the Velvet Family Compound. I shall set the scene.

I was living in Atlanta with my then boyfriend, AtlantaBoy. My parents were so pissed when I announced that I was moving there in 1998.

Dad: You have proven yourself to be the biggest disappointment of our lives.
Mom: Where’s Atlanta? Are you telling me there is land south of the end of the Jersey Turnpike. (Ok, I’m kidding. She didn’t say that, but they both thought it.)
Mom really said: Get all your shit out of my house because you aren’t coming back.

Fine. I took what I could and left the rest for the trash, and moved. When I would call home from Atlanta, they would say, “Oh, Velvet,” in a massively snotty voice. It was never good. Then a year later, in Sept, 1999, I went home to Connecticut for a week. When they were driving me back to the airport my oldest brother said, “Too bad you weren’t staying for this upcoming week because older brother is coming in from Michigan.” I asked why no one told me and my mom blew me off.

Two days later, back in Atlanta, I get an email from my dad:
Velvet: If you call here in the next 14 days and we don’t answer, don’t worry. Your mother, brothers and I are going to London and Paris.

I was stunned. How could I have just been there for a week and no one mentioned a fucking trip to a continent none of them had visited? My mother said, “It didn’t cross our minds.” I cried in my boyfriends shoulder for weeks. How could this family hate me so much for moving out of the New York metropolitan area? Subsequently, I didn’t talk to them for many months, and when my brothers (in cahoots with the crazies) would email, I would answer back with just one or two words.

Time went on and I just wanted them to like me again. So move ahead to Christmas of 2000. My mother requested that I come home, alone. My boyfriend was never invited because my parents refused to acknowledge his existence. Mom said it was going to be the “last time we would all be together” and that was her reason for wanting me to come alone. (My mother has been using that line since I was 11 and my oldest brother went to college. The math on that works out to 21 years that I’ve been hearing the “last Christmas/Vacation” crap.) So I show up at the airport in N.Y. and no one is there to pick me up.

I wait a few minutes, then pull out my brand spanking new Sprint PCS cell phone (PCS stands for Piece of Cocksucking Shit in case you didn’t know.) I try to call but of course have no signal. So I go to a payphone and make a call “home.” Here we go.

Mom: Hello?
Velvet: Hey, is anyone coming to get me?
Mom: What are you talking about?
Velvet: Please tell me you didn’t lure me up here to play a trick on me.
Mom: The airline said your plane was canceled.
Velvet: Well, it wasn’t. I’m at the airport.
Mom: I’m telling you, you’re plane was canceled.
Velvet: And I’m telling you, I am STANDING IN NEW YORK RIGHT NOW.
Mom: Well why would they say that it was canceled, let me see if I have the right flight number.
Velvet: Does it matter? I know what New York looks like (unmistakable gray clouds.) If you’re not coming to get me then I’ll take a cab into the city and find a hotel.
Mom: I’m sending your father.

Dad arrives 30 minutes later and I’m just seething mad. Plane canceled my ass. But then I walk in and my mother greets me like I was the Pope bringing 8 gallons of holy water and a couple of bagels. It was like an episode of the Twilight Zone. She has never been that happy to see me in all my life. I sit down with her and we are watching t.v. Then I hear the front door open.

Older brother who had moved to Grand Rapids walked in the house and went straight upstairs without saying hello to me. It had been 3 full years since I had seen him, to this day the longest period of time we’ve gone without seeing each other. I go upstairs to say hi and give him some shit and he tells me that our parents are mad at him because he went to a friend’s house in New Jersey instead of staying home to await my arrival. (The arrival that they also said wouldn’t be happening because the plane was canceled. These discrepancies are the sign of insanity.)

The weekend unfolds and it’s obvious how mad they are at my older brother, and suspiciously how “back in the fold” I am all of a sudden. When I returned to Atlanta, my boyfriend was so happy for me. Imagine a man shunned by a family for years being happy for his girlfriend that a bunch of psychos finally accept her.

Here’s the thing. I was always in the doghouse for having the wrong boyfriend, the wrong haircolor, going to the wrong college, getting C’s instead of A’s, moving in with the boyfriend, leaving New York, bartending at night and on the weekends because my crappy job didn’t pay the bills. Whatever it was, I was in trouble for it. I had anticipated in those first few years of living with AtlantaBoy that if we got married, no one in my family would come. I never realized that that fateful weekend in 2000 was the beginning of an event unprecendented in my family – one of the chosen children was now on the outside of the circle. And I was somehow back on the inside.

In the year 2001, older brother’s relationship continued to deteriorate with my parents. Even as I quit my job in the summer and drove across the country with AtlantaBoy (i.e. became more of a “loser” in their eyes,) they were happy to hear from me and acted like parents again. Older brother went to Connecticut in August, 2001 and that was the final straw. Mom wrote him a letter about how selfish he was for something he did that they didn’t approve of, and he wrote back. No one writes back! But he wrote back, thereby launching the Letter Writing War of 2001. It was ugly, and both of us saved our letters and ended up showing them to our respective therapists who were appalled at how we had been treated. During all this conflict, I found out a lot of things, most notably that my parents specifically directed my brothers to keep the London Paris Extravaganza a secret from me. And they went along with it, until the tables turned on each of them. What goes around, comes around.

When my brother got married in 2003, our parents boycotted the wedding. Every other relative was there to support my brother. My Aunt and Uncle unofficially filled in as the role of the parents. Older brother dropped me off at the airport after the weekend. When we were saying goodbye, I started to cry. He took my bag off my shoulder and put it down on the sidewalk.

Brother: It’s okay. So they didn’t come. It’s fine.
Velvet: It was supposed to be me.
Brother: What was?
Velvet: It was supposed to be my wedding they boycotted.

The impact of these two people missing their son’s wedding will be felt forever. They are not in pictures. They are the talk of all their friends, who hold them up as the worst of the worst: “Well, at least we’re not like the Velvet Family.”

People do shitty things to me and I suck it up and go on with my life. But when people do shitty things to someone I love dearly, the pain is immense and permanent. It’s somewhat of a consolation to have my brothers to lean on, but it is bittersweet. Remember that I was on my own in the “doghouse” for the better part of 15 years. My sister-in-law reminded my brother that his few years pale in comparison to what I endured. Once he became the whipping boy for my parents and their lofty aspirations for their kids, he started to see what I was saying all those years about them being extreme. Once my oldest brother (always a favorite) saw that our parents didn’t go to our other brother’s wedding, and that they totally ignored the existence of his girfriend just like they did to my boyfriend, he too realized what was up. Both brothers have fessed up that they never knew it was this bad and that I was going through it alone.

Will I miss them on Christmas Day? Nope.

No One Else Can Feel It For You

Look what showed up in my fake email inbox today:

  • Hello,
    I would like to extend an invitation to you to join a brand new group, if you qualify.
    This is group formed primarily for people on craigslist personals as well as other online personals sites, who have often been frustrated and found it a waste of time. Yes, this will come across as elitist, and perhaps may even offend some. I dont really give two hoots. This group is designed for only the beautiful people. And membership is going to be strictly open to only those that meet a minimum criteria of attractiveness. You have to be physically fit, look great, and have a great personality. See that way, we can organise parties and events, and everyone will be happy. So who is the judge you might ask. For starters, it will be me, and then when we have enough people, we can form a small panel to decide whether to admit someone or not. And I will be looking for like minded people. I will also make sure we maintain a 50-50 gender ratio, so that our parties and events will be fun and well balanced. So if you are interested to join, and think you are eligible to be counted amongst the hip and beautiful, send me an email with a clear picture and description of yourself, with a few words as to why you believe in the concept.
    Click on the link below and submit your application for membership.
    group website : http://groups.yahoo.com/group/lovelyonesveryeligible/
    email me at : lovelyonesveryeligible@gmail.com
    and yes…(Please, dont send me mails about beauty being in the eye of the beholder, blah blah blah, or save the flames if you are upset, its not going to faze me.. And I know there are enough of us out there who have wasted enough time with CL to appreciate this endeavour)LOVE – Lovely Ones & Very Eligible

This email address might provide more entertainment than the Paris Hilton email (which by the way, I never fully utilized.) Please, I urge you, send the ugliest pictures you can find to this group who really seems to have prioritized their values in the most interesting of ways. I think I’m going to respond, just to see if I’m accepted. HA!_____________________________________________

I went to the Blogger Happy Hour last night. Much fun was had by all. I’m unable to go through the whole list of everyone I spoke with, so I’m sorry! I got a chance to talk to Barbara and Reya for a bit, and it was nice to put faces to blogs. I found the funniest part of the evening was when Playful in D.C. told me that THE BARTENDER asked her if she knew of my blog. When she replied “yes,” he pointed at himself and said, “I’m the Bartender.” He has given narcissist a whole new definition. Ok, it’s funny. I can really pick ’em.

_________________________________________

CL#1Writer called me again tonight as I was leaving the Blogger Happy Hour and still standing on Columbia Road with Jamy and Always Write (who I don’t want to “out” by using her name, just in case.) Last night when he called, he left a message. Tonight he didn’t leave one. So I’m perturbed that he told me Sunday to call him this week. Then he calls Tuesday and leaves a message. Ok, fine. But calling tonight, not leaving a message and then I find an email when I get home. It’s a little much. So now I have to just cut it off. I want to use the “you’re a great guy but I am not feeling it” line. We’ll see how that goes. I need to do it soon.

CL#2BlueEyes – haven’t heard back from him again. He can simmer on the back burner for a bit while I get to the bottom of what’s up with these other two.

CL#3TextTormenter – We’re talking about meeting tonight. He’s in girlfriend mode. I can tell. I’m putting the bait out and throwing the line.

Live Your Life With Arms Wide Open

I went to the gym this morning. Bi-Polar trainer came over and hugged me from behind while I was doing bicep curls. WTF? I said, “Isn’t this a violation of gym rules?” And he acts all sweet and sappy and says, “No, I can hug a member if I want.” I thought about saying “I can hug a member too but please let’s not let it be your member” but I didn’t. Sometimes it’s funnier in my head anyway.The Craigslist team:

CL#1Writer called again. I think that I’m over the idea of dating him again. I should tell him that I have no chemistry.

CL#2BlueEyes called me yesterday. Of course I missed the call, of course. But his message was really sweet like, “We’ve had some great banter on email and I really look forward to talking to you in person.” Rrrrrrr. Bring it. I called back, left a message, ball in his court.

CL#3TextTorment emailed me and wants to get together tomorrow night. Fine by me. Let’s go, soldier boy. Miss Delaware ain’t got nothing on me.

Can You Help Me Unravel My Latest Mistake?

I had my interview with the reporter from Consumer Affairs. It’s safe to say that It’s Just Lunch is It’s Just in Trouble for all their scheming and lying. There are two issues here for those of you in the dark. 1) The quality of their “clients” is not what they maintain; 2) They can’t follow simple instructions resulting in them screwing up many important details of the dates like the day, time, location or something insignificant like the guy’s freaking name. I explained to the reporter that while they blatantly misrepresent the quality of their clients, this is subjective, and I’m willing to overlook it. The problem is their incompetence with doing what they are supposed to specialize in – handle the details. People please. I beg of you. No one should ever do this service, nor should they recommend it to their friends. Promise to ignore the happy little ads in the City Paper where they promise to be your “personal assistant” in dating land. They are more like a “personal thorn in your side.” Thank you. That is all on that matter.

For a Monday morning, I was a busy bitch. You would think Monday morning would be about regrouping with work issues, but nope. By 10:00 I had spoken to two of my three CL men and set up tentative dates for this week.

CL#1Writer called and asked what my plans are for this week. I think I don’t want to go out with him anymore, yet I heard myself saying, “Ok, sure!” I need to correct that. It’s not right to go on when there’s no chemistry. But I’m thinking about setting him up with a friend. How can I tactfully go about that?

CL#3TextTormenter called and I didn’t answer because I wanted to hear his message so I could understand his frame of mind before I called back. He sounded sincere and apologized for the drink and dial on his voicemail so I called him back. The tables have turned a bit. He was the cocky, loud, aggressor before. But he was like, “Listen, I’m glad you called back.” Uh huh. We also made tentative plans for this week. All of this would be business as usual, and I could end this snippet right here, but, there’s a twist. It seems that this man has dated enough women to support his own blog. Interestingly enough, one of those he’s dated is someone we all know and love. While this isn’t a deal breaker (remember, I already figured him for a dick and now want to torment him on a date,) I did get to have a fascinating conversation with Kathryn and now I can’t wait to compare notes. Evil, I know. Cry me a river. Guys have been doing this to women for years.

CL#2BlueEyes is still emailing, said he has been trying to find time to call but with Christmas shopping (an admittedly poor excuse on his part) he hasn’t been able to. He’s quite cute though. Borrowed from Cookie, Meow!

Tis the season to be dating, fa la la la la, la la la la.

We Ride And Never Worry About The Fall, I Guess That’s Just The Cowboy In Us All

Look at this fabulous tidbit I received in my email on Friday:

  • I’m a reporter with ConsumerAffairs.com. I’m working on a story about It’s Just Lunch and found you name in our files. I’d like to interview you about your experience with the company. We only use first names and cities–if using your full name is a concern. When would be a convenient time to call you and at what number?Thank you for your time and assistance with this story. I look forward to talking to you soon.

How excited am I right now? I wrote back with my number and said, “I’m free to talk whenever you are. Here’s my number.” Call me sister, call me! I have PLENTY to say. ______________________________________________

Craigslist updates.

The date with CL#1Writer went off without a hitch. We got good and drunk at Gazuza on Connecticut Ave. We have great conversation, great banter, he’s witty, charming, attractive, and jammed his tongue in my mouth 18 ways till Sunday. But, when you are kissing a man and you aren’t thinking about what’s after the commercial break, it’s not a good sign. I’m not feeling it. I can’t say I won’t date him again, but I also can’t say that if he tries to touch my boobs that I won’t push his hand away. Verdict: No chemistry.

CL#2BlueEyes sent another email saying he’s sorry he didn’t call on Thursday night and that he will call me this weekend. Nothing so far. I say, bring it.

CL#3TextTormenter was all over my Velvety ass. He called a bunch of times Friday. While it’s not witty conversation, it’s hilarious, crack me up, laugh until my stomach hurts conversation. Despite all the bullshit with the text messaging and the fact that his ex-girlfriend and love of his life was Miss God Damned Delaware, I’m unphased. Ten years ago that fact that a guy dated a Beauty Queen would intimidate me. At 32, I’m much more confident. Now I think, “So what, you dated a beauty queen, the real question is, does she swallow?”

All right, that was downright disgusting. But don’t take that literally, and those of you doing so know who you are. (Mostly I mean that to Johnny, but AUA and I66 you are NOT off the hook.) I’m just saying that just because she is the beauty queen, doesn’t mean she has it all.

Anyway, we had a turn of events. CL#3TextTormenter called me at 2 a.m. Friday night when I was saying my makeout goodbye to CL#1Writer, who then pulled his tongue out of my mouth to ask who would be calling at such an hour. Uh. I had no clever answer so I said, “a friend.” Yeah, right. He’s too smart to believe that. After CL#1Writer left I called CL#3TextTormenter back and he was so obviously drunk. He said he would call me back in a few. I sent him a text message at 2:40 a.m. to say that I was going to bed and I would talk to him tomorrow. What does he do? Calls me at 3:20 a.m. Now, I was still awake but I picked up the phone and said, “Kind of late to be calling a girl you don’t really know, isn’t it?” And he drunkenly slurred out something like, “I don’t need a lecture, and I don’t need to be told so fine go to bed.”

More Laws of Velvet: People show their true colors when they are drunk and when they are stressed. When people can’t cope in either situation, their real personality comes roaring out.

I know that every single comment is going to be that I shouldn’t go out with this asshole. But, I must remind you dear readers that this is a dating blog. If he calls, even with a half assed apology of sorts, I’m going out with him. But I doubt he will call and I’m certainly not going to call him. It’s been a damn long time since a bad date. The last one started a fight with the whole restaurant. I’m curious as to what I could inspire this motherfucker to do.

_____________________________________________

On to the It’s Just Lunch update.

I met Date#9LowTalker downtown and yes, this time he showed up. Initially, they started to show us to a table, and the night dates are not supposed to be dinner, only the lunch dates are for food. At night you are supposed to have a drink, and they stress, “one drink.” I said, “Wait, we’re supposed to go to the bar, and besides, I already ate.” It was awkward, mostly because he had several chances to stop them from showing us to a table, but didn’t. So I had to do it. I hate that. And then we made our way back to the bar. I just didn’t feel like having a long drawn out dinner with him. That turned out to be the smart idea I’ve had in weeks.

My first order of business was to ask him what happened last week when he didn’t show. He said they told him 8:00. So he got there and I was gone, by an hour and a half, as they told me 6:00. I hate them. They are the worst excuse for a matchmaking dating service ever.

So we order our drinks and he is a low talking mumbler. He is probably no more than 18 inches away from me and everything he said I had to ask, “What?” He would raise his voice to repeat what he said, then retreat to the low mumbling again. Very frustrating. This is the gem of the night:

Date#9LowTalker: So, how long have you been doing It’s Just Lunch?
Velvet: About 6 months. How long have you been doing it?
Date #9LT: Doing what?

I’m sitting there speechless. Who could have THAT short of a short term memory?

I think that this man had not been briefed that these evening dates were only for a drink. This became very awkward. When I realized that he was just going to continue mumbling story after story that I got sick of straining to hear, I had to break the tension. I excused myself to go to the bathroom and the weirdest thing happened. I thought the heel of my boot broke when I was walking to the bathroom because something felt weird with my left leg and it felt like my knee was hyperextending. I made it to the bathroom thinking that I was so fucking bored with this man that half my body was in a coma. I tried to walk it off in the bathroom – it wasn’t like the pins and needles of a sleeping foot or leg – this was totally like nothing I have ever felt before.

When a stall became available, I went in to pee. Somehow, as I was crouching to sit, the bum leg gave out and I fell onto the toilet. Only me. I swear. I started to become worried at this point that I had Bells Palsy of the leg or something. I stood up and I felt very weird. I paced inside the bathroom for a couple minutes, checked the heel on my boot, poked my leg in various places, and started to recover a little. When I got back to the bar, Date#9LowTalker seemed to make a statement about me taking a while or something so I said there was a line. (Yeah, behind my peg leg.) And he said, “But the place is empty.” Whatever. I can’t elaborate with him anymore.

As I sat back down, I said, “Well, I need to get going. I’m supposed to meet some friends in a bit.” He said, “What time?” I said, “Oh, they are gathering soon I would imagine.” Then as I made a move to reach for the check, this conversation happens:

Date#9LT: Have you ever done online dating?
Velvet: Uh, once.
(Yeah, once this week maybe.)
Date#9LT: Did you know a lot of the profiles are fake?
Velvet (what kind of woman would do something like that?): No, really?

Then he launches into a whole story about how he caught someone lying about being a computer programmer. All I’m doing is trying to expedite the bill paying process. I finally throw some money down and as his story brings tears of boredom to my eyes, I hail the bartender to get our change. Then he starts a whole new story about politics of all things and I’m thinking, “What is wrong with him? I am trying to LEAVE.” He says that he thinks Libertarians are the weirdest people. That’s funny because I consider myself a Libertarian, but I don’t consider myself to be among the crazy Libertarians on the ballot every 4 years. Why he is launching into a topic as complicated as politics is beyond me when he sees that I’m zipping up my purse. Get a clue buddy. Finally he poses some deep question to me and I’m seething because I just want to get out of there and I said, “There’s no sense in discussing politics because there’s nothing we can do to change any of this and anyone who believes otherwise is living in a bubble.” You would think he would get the hint that I don’t want to discuss that or anything else, but nope.

I guess he is really lonely. He was nice, but that low mumbling and the conversation hijacking was out of control. When we finally have our change and leave the tip, I stand up. Then, he asks, “So, do you prefer movies or t.v.?” This guy is FUCKING KILLING ME. It was like I was on Candid Camera. I tell him t.v. and I start to make my way to the door.

We get out in the street and I’m like, “It was nice meeting you.” And he says, “Have you seen any good movies lately?” I cannot believe this is happening. I am, at this point, being so far beyond rude because I just cannot take anymore. He wasn’t catching subtle hints like me jingling my keys, he wasn’t catching giant hints like me walking out the door. Finally, a happy little blogger I know pulled up in a cab (yes, all planned out) and as she waved at me he said, “Oh, there are your friends.”

Yes. There they are. Thank you.

Each New One I Meet Makes My Heart Beat Fast

Thanks for the shout out, CityFlirting! Even though I don’t load correctly in Firefox, I don’t know what to do about that. Anyone?

On to my life. It’s an update from last evening, so if you missed that, scroll down for a second.

CL#3TextTormenter and I talked for 3 hours last night. I must write that again because I still cannot believe it. THREE HOURS OF REAL LIVE TALK. The last time I had a three hour conversation was in high school where I would ponder with a friend, “I can’t wait to get outta here so I can have any boyfriend I want.” Yup. Because that’s exactly how it works.

Anyway, the conversation was mostly good. I say mostly because I sense that he enjoys getting under people’s skin, and that is unfortunately a childish behavior. Take for instance when I say, “How old are you again? I forgot what your ad said.” And he won’t answer – for an infurating 45 minutes. And he thinks it’s funny that I keep asking. It might be minor, but it’s still childish and we cannot forget the following:

Men tell you exactly who they are within five minutes of meeting them. Girls, repeat after me, Men tell you exactly who they are within five minutes of meeting them.

This is advice I should have remembered when I was involved with the trainer (formerly Hot Trainer) for those tumultuous 48 hours. He was mildly bi-polar and Jeckyl & Hydeish when we were in the gym working out. I should have known it wouldn’t be any different later on.

So, CL#3TextTormenter and I have made tentative plans. He seems irked that I can’t do something on Friday. He made the comment, three times at various points in the phone call, that I “have too many men to juggle.” While it’s true, trust me that yours truly has given none of these bozos, uh, men I will be dating, any indication that that assumption has merit. So, that is a mark of an immature man, because lest we forget that his first text messages to me were saying things about why couldn’t I figure out who it was and how many people did I give my number to? This whole thing is maddening because of Velvet’s next line of dating advice.

Dating is a numbers game. The more people you meet, the better the chance that one will be a match.

So there’s no word from CL#2BlueEyes even though he said he would call. I’m still on with CL#1Writer for tonight. And there’s an “It’s Just a God-Damned-Nightmare that you wish would go away Lunch Date” on Saturday at 7. Yes, peak time, peak night. Those jerks. I really despise them.

Once more for those in the back: Men tell you exactly who they are within five minutes of meeting them. Dating is a numbers game, the more people you meet, the better the chance that one will be a match.

My work here is done for today. Stay tuned.

So Many Men

I would finish the title by saying “so little time” but there’s a ton of time. Time, my friends, is all I have. I am so drenched in the Sea of Men right now that I literally cannot keep them straight. I must go in order.

CL#1Writer: We have a date for Friday evening after his holiday party. We’re aiming for 9:00.

CL#2BlueEyes: He emailed me and said that he left me a voicemail. I never got a voicemail, nor do I see any missed calls. What is strange is that I know he’s not lying because I have that Verizon Ringback tone and he named the song I have. He’s supposed to call back tonight.

CL#3TextTormenter: We are still emailing back and forth and have tentatively scheduled plans for this weekend as well.

Now, I know what you are thinking, “Velvet, how in the hell are you going to see the above three men (if CL#2BlueEyes wants to try to get together) in one weekend?” Well, I’m not. I’m going to see four men because the other stupid It’s Just a Nightmare dude who didn’t show up last week is scheduled for Saturday at like, 7. I’ll be outta there by 8:30, max. So see, technically I still have Saturday night open as well as Sunday. Do not discount Sunday as a viable date night.

But, I have to fill up my Saturday night soon because of this email I received from my Dad:

Velvet, I checked DC Greeks and see that there is a dance-party on Saturday night December 17 at 10:00 P.M. right around the corner form your condo at Andalu, 1214 18th Street NW. Think about it. Love, Dad

Why must he torture me so? After the last Greek I dated, I’m forever scarred. I told him I would not be going, but I would feel better if at least I had some decent plans so that I could say, “I’m sorry I didn’t make it to Greek Geek Night, but, I had a date with the hottest millionaire.”

I Love To Wash In Your Old Bathwater

Dear Girlfriends of mine who have boyfriends,

Never call me and say this: “My boyfriend is busy today so do you want to do something?”

Aside from the fact that it’s rude, it implies the following:

1) You only think of doing something with me when your boyfriend has other plans.
2) You are so dependent on him that you can’t be without him.
3) He has now left you in the lurch and you need some entertainment.

Frankly, I could give a rat’s ass about item numbers 2 & 3. It’s the first one that has me stewing. When you call and say that, note how I say that I can’t accommodate your wishes because I’m already busy. (Busy as in, taking a toothpick to the space between the planks of my hardwood floors and picking out any stray dirt and trapped dog hair.) And please note for future reference, that I’m not one of those “couples only” girls. When I have a boyfriend, I have no problem bringing friends along, nor do I have a problem blowing him off for you all. But you people, you are making me sick. You have set the women’s movement back another 40 years and I hate you for it.

Love,
Velvet

Why Not Take A Chance, Everything’s A Game

First things first. I found an article on dating that I posted below. It ain’t mine, but it’s worth skimming. I don’t like posting more than once a day, but, I’m getting clogged up over here in drafts.

Went to the gym today. I could hear the voice of HT as I pedaled away on the stairmaster. It made me ill. I turned off on him really fast, and I’m officially stripping the “Hot” part of his title. Now he’s just the trainer. He sent me an email today that said, “How are you?” I wrote back and said, “Ridiculously busy. And you?” And he said, “On and off busy.” I fell into a coma during that exchange. I’m sure you all did too. Ok. Moving right along.

I hate when people call and say, “Hi, it’s me.” Then launch into their dribble. You know how if you get a missed call you can piece it together? But Velvet’s cell phone doesn’t always reveal who called. The caller laments, in voicemail, that they went “right to voicemail” right after they say, “Hi, it’s me.” People! Unless you are my family, I urge you to stop doing this. It is so blipping annoying for you to assume that I know who you are. Girlfriends aside, it’s even harder to discern from my bevy of men who call at any given time.

Tonight as I was wrestling with the dogs to cut their ridiculous Medusa-like nails, I got a text message. It said, “Guess who?” This message stream ensued:

Velvet: “No Clue.”
Unknown person: “Boo. I must be one of the many you have given your number to recently.”
(Dude, we’re on Craigslist. Duh!)
Velvet: (Trying to be coy,) “There ain’t no telling. Kidding. Actually I’m pretty careful with dispensing the digits. So why did you take the cowards way out and text instead of call?”
{I’m still laughing at the sheer absurdity of what I just wrote. Again, my number is in more places than BORF.}
Unknown person: “So, you had my number when the random call came in. I’m far from a coward.”
Velvet: “You should have called instead of sending this. It’s too hard to type…”
Unknown person: “Sorry, I will.”
Velvet: “Ha Ha.”
Unknown person: “You could always call me.”
Velvet: “I don’t do that…you asked for my number, you call.”

What the FUCK is wrong with these people?

I don’t know which one he is but I am irritated right now. Who told these men that text messages are an acceptable form of communication? Why has the text message replaced the actual live phone call? Are we so busy that we can’t get on the phone with someone? Stop trying to conduct relationships via text messaging. Come on dude, you’re KILLING me.

CL#1 has officially been renamed to CL#1Writer. Because, like, duh, he’s a writer. And not a writer like the NC-17 dribble you read on this blog. A real live writer about topics so far beyond my intelligence that I could never compete. I have to keep the CL# beginning to their nickname, so then I can keep track where they came from. Think of it like a marketing effort, “And how did you hear about dating Velvet?”

So, CL#1Writer and I have a date on Friday night. He emailed me. I accepted.

One of the other two CL’s (#2 or #3) has got to be the text tormenter. I don’t know which one it is, but that will become his new nickname, and the other one will have to be appropriately named as he reveals himself.

Midnight Drunken Update:
Ok, I finally had an actual phone conversation with the text tormenter. But what you are reading now is drunken blogging as I had promised to go to BestGuyFriend-M’s tree trimming party tonight and forgot about it until the very lastest minute. I wanted to bail but I’m glad I went because I got to see some fab people I never get to see! I had two glasses of wine, then a glass of champagne, then a glass of half champagne/half wine, then finally, ended with a glass of wine. Once more for those in the back: Velvet is wasted.

I snuck out in the hall to return a call from CL#3text-tormenter. That is his new name. He is the one in the same industry as me. I’m not impressed by our phone convo, as he said “You never told me you had a fake name.” And I said, “You never said your name was ‘this.’” He insists he did, but after consulting all our emails, nope, he never said. Anyway, he wants to try to get together this weekend. More tongue in my mouth, yum yum. I mean, uh, oops.

Sidenote – drunk as I am, you should SEE the tiny Velvet-sized-parking-space that I poured SpeedRacer into. I cannot believe it. Shut up, I only drove 4 blocks, but it’s under 20 degrees out there, and yes, one recent day I said that I would soon be complaining about how cold it is, and here is that day. And I was so not going to circle the block and park any further than close to the front door of the Velvet Condo Building. G’night.

Article on Dating That I Didn’t Write

Blind dating gets back in the game
By Olivia Barker, USA TODAYMon Dec 12, 7:52 AM ET

Friends don’t let friends date guys like Spank Me Frank, who took a gander at Ashley Nichols’ derriaire during their first and only rendezvous and declared, “I want to spank it later.” Nor do friends let friends meet men like the one who romanced Kristen Howey with a comped “blue-hair hour” buffet at a “cheesy” Las Vegas hotel. “He pulled out these coupons, and I just thought, ‘You’ve got to be kidding me,’ ” Howey recalls.

In this increasingly difficult dating world, friends – and cousins and aunts and their hairdressers – are the first line of defense against, at the very least, a dismal evening and, at the worst, a dangerous liaison. These days the old-fashioned blind date – aka the setup – seems the least of three evils, the other two being the new old-fashioned online date (Spank Me Frank’s provenance) and the double old-fashioned bar or party encounter (how Howey met her cheapskate).

It used to be that blind dates felt, well, dated, practiced by the likes of Larry and Jack on Three’s Company- and then not so successfully. (Remember Kim Basinger’s boozy, blowzy turn as an ’80s Blind Date?) They were for desperados who couldn’t get asked out any other way.
But, now, considering the menu of available mating methods – add speed dating to the aforementioned – matchmaking by friends or family carries the most potential for establishing a relationship on the one hand, singles say, and maintaining dignity on the other, especially important during the holiday party season.

Dates are vetted and vouched for by the common friend or relative, who – unlike, say, an Internet personals mug shot – can manage expectations more accurately, like whether someone’s a little shorter than average, or a little heavier or a little hairier. With a traditional, pre-approved blind date, “at least you know that if they tell you he’s a Delta Airlines pilot, he’s a Delta Airlines pilot, not some guy working at the Avis rental counter,” says Nichols, 35, who works in human resources in Atlanta.

When it comes to misrepresentation, when an online date says he’s 5-foot-10 and turns out to be more like 5-foot-6, “everything kind of goes back to the beginning. Everything that was communicated by e-mail or phone just kind of goes out the window, and you wonder, ‘Oh, my gosh. Is this the person I thought it was?’ ”

As a result, blind dating is “definitely” more popular than before, says Andrea Miller, founder and president of Tango, a new magazine devoted to relationships. “There, frankly, is no stigma attached to it.”

Years ago, people thought blind dates were “horrible,” says Laurie Graff, writer of You Have to Kiss a Lot of Frogs, a novel chronicling 15 years of Mr. Wrongs, and the soon-to-be-published Looking for Mr. Goodfrog. Now, thanks to the Internet, “we really know what horrible dating is.” Blind dates of yore were “the uncool guys I now meet online.” Seasoned singles are experiencing “online dating fatigue,” Miller says. So their blind-dating efforts are a form of backlash.

“The technology of Internet dating, while it may seem like a great thing in terms of multiplying your opportunities to meet people, more options does not necessarily translate into a better chance of meeting The One,” says Jillian Straus, author of the forthcoming Unhooked Generation: The Truth About Why We’re Still Single. “Sometimes having so many choices makes people hesitant to commit.”

Daters and dating analysts agree there are two kinds of people trawling the Internet and the speed-dating circuit: those shopping for sex and those shopping for a mate. The anonymity of the online world makes fulfilling the first goal “so much easier,” says Straus, 33, who interviewed 100 singles ages 25-39 across the country.

And distinguishing those who want to hook up for a night vs. a lifetime can be tough. The anonymity also breeds rudeness, Straus says. The Internet date is much easier to stand up. “I can’t tell you the number of friends of mine who say they met a guy online, they chatted electronically or by phone many times, and he completely blew them off. You’re not going to do that if you have a friend in common.” The online date is “just not accountable.”

And yet thanks to the Internet, the blind date’s résumé isn’t limited to the personal reference. Before the first meeting, blind dates are Googled, Friendstered (researched on the popular social community) and JDated or Matched (looked up on online dating sites). Their wired lives notwithstanding, “many GenXers have a romantic notion of falling in love and meeting someone, and many feel the online thing feels contrived and less romantic,” Straus says.

The blind date, “while it’s not like seeing someone from across a crowded room, has that factor” of gauzy fantasy. Online dating “just kind of skeeves me out,” says Scott Robinson, who works in information technology in Atlanta. “It doesn’t feel natural.”

Perhaps his buddy’s story of online wooing woe turned him off. “They met and she had a deeper voice than he did,” says Robinson, 28. “So he started looking for an Adam’s apple.” Robinson’s other strategy, asking women out at parties and during other spontaneous encounters, hasn’t exactly worked. “I’ve been shot down too many times,” he says.

And once you’re out of college, drunken escapades don’t exactly telegraph marriage material.
So he has gone down the blind-date route six or seven times in the past few years; one segued into a five-month relationship. It ended amicably, largely over religion (she was God-fearing, he wasn’t) – except that, as can happen if the setup goes sour, the matchmakers (Robinson’s friend and his wife) took it a little personally. “They’d give out guilt trips: ‘You’re going to let a little thing like that get in the way?’ ”

This past summer, the fortysomething Graff, who lives in Manhattan, went out on a blind date with a guy in his 60s (a friend’s husband knew the man at work). “He was nice-looking but dressed a little like a used-car salesman,” Graff says. “But I could see he was a quality person. If I was of a different generation, I would have been more interested.” Even though they never went out again, “he was a nicer caliber of person than I would meet online.”

Her brother, Steve Levine, tried Internet dating for eight months while living in San Francisco recently and “hated” it. “It was just so disappointing, much more disappointing than going on a blind date,” says Levine, 47, a defense lawyer now in Santa Monica, Calif. “You get pieces of a jigsaw puzzle that,” upon meeting in person, “just don’t match.” One woman, “she had a nice picture,” started bawling over drinks about how her first Internet love ditched her. “I was being sympathetic, but I was thinking, ‘I’m not surprised. The girl’s out of her mind.’ ” Another time he corresponded with a woman, “really pretty,” who emerged as “some fat guy in Wisconsin, I’m guessing.”

“The Internet is for broken people,” Levine philosophizes. “You meet another broken person, and if you’re lucky, you’re not broken in the same places and can prop each other up.”
That doesn’t sound too tempting to singles such as Howey. But neither did blind dating until two or so years ago when she turned 30 and when that date took her to that “side-street, messy old” Vegas hotel for dinner. She used to fear that would-be matchmakers were being magnanimous only out of pity. “People maybe thought I was helpless, that I wasn’t getting out there enough or doing my part, so out of desperation they were going to set me up,” says Howey, who works in public relations. But now, 15 dates in 2 ½ years later, she prefers them.
“I would never go to a hairstylist without a referral, so why go out with a guy without one?”

I’m On The Run, I’m Chasing Guys For Fun

This post is a rambling of thinking out loud, more so for me to get my Craigslist scorecard straightened out. It includes some tidbits of what various men have said to me in their emails:

CL#1: This is the man who I met last night. We’ve got good banter, intelligence, clearly doing well for himself based on where he lives and had this to say about Velvet:

  • You know what I find attractive about you? The combination of someone who is smart–and reads–but at the same time has an illegal streak, has sex in bathrooms, has a tongue ring and learned how to use it by watching porn.

(Wiping away a tear) No one has been able to sum me up in one sentence. He gets me. I could live in peace with this man, I think. By the way, he did email me today and he did express interest in seeing me again. It must have been because of the kiss. That I just realized I forgot to mention. Yes, my tongue saw a lot of activity this weekend. Actually, if we compare the two, the personal trainer and this dude, I bet my tongue saw the lowest and highest IQ’s of my dating career. I depress me. At least I ended with the high IQ.

CL#2: It’s going to be hard to differentiate them if I keep nicknaming them in this fashion. Anyway, we had a couple starts and stops on email. For a brief freak out I thought it was BoyFace based on style of writing and his choice of fake email name, but I was wrong. He sent me a picture in a group of people. I scanned the picture, saw one really hot guy and saw that the rest were all basically average. Then I referred back to his text and it would seem that he is, in fact, the really hot one. Did anyone hear the slot machine go: Ding Ding Ding Ding Ding. Also, his first email to me included a bad date story from a girl he met on Craigslist. Again, wiping away a tear, I’m touched. It’s like he can see inside me and knows that I live for bad date stories. He just asked for my number, I complied, and we’ll see where it goes.

CL#3: I still don’t know his name, but we’ve had some interesting emails back and forth. I don’t think he’s a brain surgeon, but he’s nice, good looking, and we work in the same industry. He actually works for a competing homebuilder, so that would be hilarious. He also asked for my number today and I provided that as well.

My number is in more places than Borf.

Now for some other tidbits on men I won’t be dating. One man said to me: “You are a very strong person but empty within.” It’s an interesting statement, but I doubt after a few minutes of emailing that he could sense that. He needs to use that line on an 18 year old. She’d gush, “He gets me.” I’m much deeper than that. Apparently it takes a man to recognize my love of porn and public sex to really “get me.”

Another sent this seemingly normal email, but it included this text: As for how cool a guy I am, don’t just take my word for it, here’s what another woman said to me as she was letting me down easy: “I did have a very nice time with you, I think you are a nice, funny,intelligent, handsome and confident person; we had fun and we seem to enjoy doing similar things. And, you definitely know how to physically please a woman. . . . You were great. And it is clear that you want to be with a woman and enjoy making a woman happy.” I wrote back and said that I could have done without the reference. I mean, really.

It’s Just You And Me And We Just Disagree

If you didn’t read Saturday’s entry, please take a moment to look at that so that we can all laugh at the hilarity that is my life.

I spent all day Saturday watching the Miami Vice Marathon on T.V. Don Johnson was so damn hot. I loved him as a pre-pubescent 12 year old in 1985 and I love him now as a 32 year old. I really bridged that age gap, didn’t I? He was about 35 when he was filming the show. Meow.

Spent Saturday evening with the trainer. Tribal has spoken. He has been voted off the island. Sorry.

Strike 1: He didn’t go to college (Valedictorian Velvet Values Veducation – 4V’s…sort of;) Strike 2: He’s allergic to dogs. I’m so madly in love with my dogs that I wouldn’t even entertain being serious with someone who couldn’t love them as much as I. Strike 3: It’s a general yet all-encompassing strike to include everything else about him. He didn’t walk me to my car when I left his apartment and he lives in a quasi-ghetto, and we don’t click. He is very affectionate, and hates that I’m not. He seems to get in moods, and I’m pretty even keel happy all the time. I’ve worked hard to be happy and emotionless (duh) and not get in moods and not be sappy affectionate. And I sure as hell don’t need that from someone I’m dating. Saturday night was a totally different experience than Friday night. If you’re gonna be bi-polar and all moody, don’t invite me over.

He also said, “Your phone rings a lot.” I said, “I only plan on answering it if my parents call. It’s my rule. Parents or boss, I pick it up.” He said, “You and I are so different. I would never do that.” Suck it. Mom squeezed me out from between her legs. Dad helped me out tremendously with paying for school and my current abode. Both of them love me despite the mass levels of insanity they inflict on the world around them and I answer the phone when they call. My boss gave me the best job ever and pays me way too much to do it so I answer his calls too. So, again, suck it.

I just cannot meet a normal man. And since when did sub par, defective men, become the new norm?

You know how people have May-December romances? I have Friday-Sunday romances. Make that Friday-Saturday.

Never one to sulk long, I woke up Sunday with a new attitude. I have so many Craigslisters on my ass that I don’t need no stinking trainer. I went to the gym and since My BestGuyFriend’s office is above my gym, I ran up there to confirm our dinner plans. I’m cashing in Frequent Flier miles for restaurant vouchers all over this town. When I was there I told him that I met and have been talking with someone for a couple days who happens to live in the same building he does. BestGuyFriend-M said, “Where did you find this guy?” I said, “Craigslist.” He bust out laughing so hard I thought milk would come out of his nose.

I met Craigslist #1 tonight for a drink at his house. Don’t ask. Ok, ask. The reason I met at his house is because I was storing the motorcycle at BestGuyFriend-M’s for the winter and I wanted to bring it there tonight. CL#1 let me into the garage and I put it in BestGuyFriend-M’s spare spot. Then we went up to his apartment and had a glass of wine. We have the same bedroom furniture (shut up, I took the tour) and a lot of the same crazy books. And he’s someone who I can banter with. Banter! I am so quick sometimes with my sarcasm and snarky comments that it takes a special person to keep up with me. BestGuyFriend-M can keep up with me. In fact, most of my friends can. I thought I was destined to spending a life surrounded by gay men, but, aah, someone smart and who can banter! Exciting. Then BestGuyFriend-M came to pick me up so we could go eat and he came to CL #1’s apartment. He saw my bag that had the motorcycle cover in it and said, “Oh God, is she moving in?” They talked about the building, we all went up to see BestGuyFriend-M’s place, then BestGuyFriend-M and I left for dinner and CL #1 went home.

In the car, BestGuyFriend-M said, “Don’t fuck it up.”

The evening ended with the most hilarious dinner conversation between Boston, BestGuyFriend-M and I. It was all about sex and drugs, because, come on, what else is there? I told them about the affection thing with the personal trainer and how he said I hated it and he liked it. Boston said, “It’s because you didn’t like him.” I said, “Right. You know, I could fuck just about anybody, but I couldn’t hold just anybody’s hand.” After it came out of my mouth, I realized just how wrong wrong wrong that is.

I’m Having The Time Of My Life, What A Sweet Sweet Life It Is

I cannot believe my life. My neighbor said, “I cannot believe your life.” BestGuyFriend-M said, “I cannot believe the shit that happens to you.” It’s true.

Friday morning I woke up thinking that I had a personal training appointment at 11:00 a.m. I did some work in the morning and started to get ready. Then I checked my email and Hot Trainer said he had a doctor’s appointment because his eye was red and irritated so he had to push it until 1:00. I said ok, but then he canceled entirely. Let’s take a look at the evolution of this conversation.

Hot Trainer: I tried calling you and I got a song. {Velvet has Verizon Ringback Tones.} I need to change our time to 1:00 if possible because I am on my way to the doctor for a problem with my eye.
Velvet: No problem. Fix your eye and I’ll see you at 1:00.
{In the interim, HT called me but I lost my connection and since he was at the gym I didn’t want to go through the hassle of calling back and trying to get him on the phone. Emails resume.}
HT: Did you hang up on me? Call me.
Velvet: No, I lost my signal and then waited for you to call back but my brother called. Sorry. I can call you back in a few or we can work it out by email. Your choice.
HT: I can come in Sunday around 2 if you like.
Velvet: Sunday works for me.
HT: Thanks. You are totally the best. I owe you lunch and coffee.
Velvet: It’s a deal. And I’m sorry, but aren’t you the one coming in on your day off?
HT: Ok. You owe me dinner then.
Velvet: What? How the hell did that just happen? If you owe me, then it’s lunch and if I owe you then it’s dinner? Huh. I’ve been swindled, but ok.
HT: I’m smooth. So when do I get dinner?

Now, you see? How do they do that? They work their way in and ask you out without really asking you out. Ok. So I end up going up to the gym to workout and I see him when I walk in. We have a conversation and I can tell from how he’s acting that he’s serious, and this wasn’t just a flirty game we were playing. I continue my workout and he keeps coming to find me to say little things to me – one of which being something to the effect of us going out this weekend. So when I’m ready to leave I say, “Bye, see you on Sunday.” And he goes, “What about tomorrow?” I said, “What about tomorrow?” He said, “I thought we were doing something.” I said, “Ok, we can do something.” Then he says, “Well, I didn’t know if you were busy or not, I mean, can you squeeze me in between all your men?”

Heh heh heh. Can I?

So I get home to an email that he has a whole plan for our Saturday date. Gotta love a man with a plan.

I’m trying to get out the door for my It’s Just a Nightmare, er, Lunch date, which was really drinks in Georgetown. Fucking Georgetown, it’s so damn expensive to get into or out of there. After spending a zillion dollars and a second mortgage in cab fare, I get there only to find out that AGAIN, he doesn’t show up. I say again because the last time these assholes sent me somewhere that I had no choice but to take a cab, the dude also didn’t show up. Annoying. Well, ultimately not so annoying. Read on.

Hot trainer and I were texting the whole time. When he heard that my “plans with my girlfriend” were off, he told me to come over. And I did. Only after I was in a cab back in Dupont, so it was a $17 cab ride, and we picked up some chick who may or may not have been a transvestite on the way. She looked desperate for a cab so I told her to get in. Christina was her name. Should have told her about the blog.

Anyway, what happened? Lots of stuff. He’s very nice. He told me that he had asked me (I don’t remember any of this) what I was doing for Thanksgiving and I said nothing and he said he wanted to ask me to do something back then. Huh. He cooked me dinner. (What is going on here?) He said a lot of things like that that made me wonder why he would pick me with all the girls who go into that gym. He said he never really talked to anyone like he talks to me, and then he said what I always get: “I feel like I could tell you anything.” What? Why do I get that? I’m one of the biggest assholes I know. I don’t know why people say that to me.

Oh. One more thing. He’s a good kisser.

Twelve Noon Update:
He called. He’s having second thoughts about us dating when the gym has strict rules about dating both employees and members. Huh. Isn’t it a little late for all this? I would normally suspect that the guy just wasn’t that into me, but in this case I’m not so sure. Not by the things he says. Not by the way he doesn’t want to get off the phone with me. Well, I’m sure there’s going to be more to come.

I Don’t Know Why I Act The Way I Do

Here we go. Craigslist’s finest. I should tell you that my email address has a fake name – you’ll need to know that for reference. It’s been an alias for years. Here’s one of my email exchanges:

Crazy Guy: Good morning.
Velvet (after a full day elapses:) Good Morning to you.
CG: Where were you?
Velvet: The asylum only lets me email a few minutes a day.
CG: It is no fair for you and for me dear. Are you ready for Christmas?
Velvet: yes. did all the store shopping in Nov and the rest online. HA!
CG: I am surprise,, organize girl…. I hope you have something for me, your e-friend.
Velvet (trying to get down to business:) Nope. Sorry. Just these emails. Without a picture I can’t do much for you.
CG: Just because a picture!? Ok, sent your pic first.
Velvet: No. I asked first. You send it first.
CG: I really like your name. I do not have pictures of me right now, but why a picture is so important? Feelings are important, don’t you think. I drank coffee yesterday at my office so I could not sleep well last night. Now I am sleepy, but must work untill late. Thanks god I have you to talk with. It is going to snow tomorrow, be ready. Bytheway, is that your real name?
Velvet: Yes, a picture is important. What are you hiding? Usually when people won’t send a pic it’s because they are overweight.
CG: That was funny. I am extremely fit, no muscular but in very good shape. I am not hiding anything, what for?, I just do not have a picture right now. But you can mail me one of yours misterious starr. Are you going to see NANIA?
Velvet: I don’t send one until you do.
CG: Do not worry, we do not need pictures, words are enought, more than enought. Hey do you play soccer?

At this point, I didn’t answer that. Then I get this:

CG: Do you have a male friend? My beautiful Eritrean friend wants a double date.

Um, WHAT? I don’t think that Crazy Guy and I were EVER in the same conversation. What is Nania? Who is Eritrean?

What about this dick? After he called me the fake name, I said this:
Velvet: And shhh…but that’s not my name. You just don’t know who you are going to meet on here, and who is going to stalk you. There are plenty of men looking for married women. No clue why. Oh, well, I guess I have a clue why.
Psycho Guy: so, who are you? are you married and looking for a fling? well, then come on over. or, if yoyu’re tracking your husband, then you ought to know he probably has cheated on you. And you’re wondering why you’re still with the jerk? because you’re st… (fill in the blank.)you can fool others but you can’t fool yourself.
Velvet: Not married. And to the rest of what you wrote: huh?
Psycho Guy: then send your picture… what you waiting?
Velvet: You first.
Psycho Guy: i asked you first, so you’ve to send your pic first. look you’ve to stop playing games or good luck spying online… and have fun.i’m not going to put up with your crap… perhaps you can find a blue collar high school drop out.

Ok, and what do we think about this picture?

When I looked at this, I, uh, had a thought. It wasn’t a good one, and I really shouldn’t repeat it. Let’s just say it had something to do with a movie and that forehead. Then he kept firing off the pictures, one after the next,and I know now that that forehead has traveled the world and never been smaller or changed shape.

Why do people block faces out like this? Who cares? My friends don’t care. Shit, poor BestGuyFriend-M has had his face plastered all over Yahoo Personals because one of my best pictures was taken with him.

What about this picture? Who would send this out to anyone? I would love to bring some guy home to my parents with a fucking bird on his hat. Could you imagine? Oh wait, none of you know my mom. She would flip out. My dad probably wouldn’t notice the bird, but he would participate in the conversations between my brother and my mom. Then sometime down the road, maybe a month or two from now, he would lean over to me at dinner and say, “Who is this birdhead everyone talks about?”

And to this guy I say, “Nice bird dude.”

All right. More to come. This is so fun.

When I Look At You I Think That’s Just What I Need

Greetings from the Dog-Infirmary. Thora is vomiting everywhere and Sammy woke up with an eye infection. My poor babies! Is it possible that I’m not as good a mother as I think I am? When Sammy is sick he really brings out the mommy in me. He crawls in my lap and hangs his head really low. It’s very endearing. I’m a sucker. What can I say?

Well, thanks Sharkie for the tip. Who ever would have thought Craigslist would end up being so much fun. Now in addition to checking my regular email, and my Velvet email, I have to check the third, totally anonymous email I set up for tricking men and wreaking havoc. Last week I picked about 10 decent sounding ads and wrote nutty stuff to all of them. Most of it was jibberish and things I would never respond to if it were my ad. But, mostly everyone wrote back. As usual, you narrow down to a few and I just got pictures this morning of the two I thought were the most intelligent and coherent. Surprise, they are both pretty decent looking. Actually, they are beyond 5’s on a scale of 1-10. Those are good odds.

So here lies a theory – the more you pay the worse the chances? It’s Just a Nightmare cost beaucoup de bucks. Any online service is between $20 and $30. Craigslist is free. What the hell.

A Little Rendezvous, A Little Mystery

Imagine laying in your snuggly warm bed on a Monday that will undoubtedly end with snow, while all the suckers are making their way to work. It was so nice for the 3 & 1/2 minutes of peace. That is, until the firetrucks. Sometimes, I really think they overdo it. I mean, come on. There’s no need for all that siren screeching and horn blowing when the roads are practically empty and no one’s in your fucking way! I know the sirens and horns just boost the firemen’s egos. (All right, pushing buttons makes me feel important too.) So I’m hoping that they will keep driving, further and further from my bed. But then I hear it…over their speakers….”We have arrived at {insert Velvet’s Address here.} Fuck!

I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter.

Firemen crawling all over the place. Great.

I open the front door of my condo, thinking I’m going to walk to my neighbors (with my pj’s still on and we all know I’m a fan of cotton) and there are three firemen out there in the hall staring at me. It’s a sad realization when you think for a split second that they just may have come for you. What do I do? My friend N (who doesn’t want to be named because she’s a Freak, capital F) said, “You asked if any of them were single?” Uh, no, apparently I didn’t think of that because I’m so out damn practice at this point. I just slammed the door in their faces. Not before, of course, Thora barked at them like a maniac to let them know whose floor they were on. Then they went into the stairwell. My building didn’t burn down, luckily, and I could have parlayed the whole experience into a dating drama, by opening my mouth, or my shirt, but I’m too stupid.

Too awake now to go back to bed, I turned on the computer and promptly found this: http://www.dcblogs.com/2005/12/why-we-blog-edition.html That made my day much much better. Aww…thanks KOB!

I continue to think about blogging, why I do it, how I feel about it, if I’ll ever stop and am always encouraging others by cutting off their chatter with, “Ugh, Drama. You really need your own blog.” I was thinking about how some bloggers remain mysterious and don’t seem to want to reveal themselves. I wish that I could be that person, in the background – all mysterious. Someone whose moves everyone would follow with bated breath, someone whose identity everyone would speculate but none could ever confirm. Then I realized that I’m just not that person. I enjoy that blogging has brought to me a new social circle of friends. I wouldn’t have them without having revealed my identity. While I don’t want to be completely outed to the public because I do some really bad things to some of the men I date (last paragraph on that link and read between the lines,) I’m okay with being known to a selective few…dozen.

The day continued to improve as I found out that a $10 million acquisition I worked very hard on for a year, that I bounced from my old company to my new one, then lost, just ended up back in my lap today. The broker called with the words “guess what” and the conversation ended with me reinstating our offer and jumping from the rooftops singing.

The day ends with some interesting info. How much fun am I going to have with this little tidbit?

  • After making it big in TV, music, and film, Paris returns to the literary world with her second book, ‘Your Heiress Diary.’ Now she wants to answer your questions in an upcoming interview! Send your questions to ParisHiltonQA@yahoo.com, and check back on Dec. 8th to hear her answers.

Dear Paris: Why are you such a dirty ho? Dear Paris: What’s up with your eye that doesn’t open all the way? Dear Paris: How many men have you really slept with? Dear Paris: Why do you tilt your head in that stupid pose for all your pictures? Dear Paris: Why do you twist your legs like an 8 year old in all your pictures? Dear Paris: Have you ever done it in The Hilton?
So glad I have all those totally anonymous email addresses from all the fake profiles I created to trap BoyFace. Aah, so fun.

In the interest of keeping the dating alive and well in my life, I have the following news to report. Steve2 and I have had plans that keep getting moved and moved and moved. He’s one of my last men from Yahoo. We were supposed to go out last night but he canceled. Whatevs, I don’t really care anymore. Based on an idea I got from Sharkbait, I decided to peruse Craig’s List (who knew?) and used my very anonymous email addy to mess with a few men. But these guys are all freaks. Actually, one or two are normal, but they are still nameless, faceless freaks to me. So, I’m back on match. We’ll see how this goes. For someone who writes a dating blog, I’m really a little too picky. I should be dating any and every loser that happens in my direction. Ok. I’ll try.

All The Lights That Lead Us There Are Blinding

I’m really jumping in it today, so brace yourselves. Here are two pieces of information you will need as a prelude to what is to come:

  1. It’s no secret that I’m in love with a man who is no longer a part of my life, never knew how I felt, has moved on, and yet, I can’t get him out of my head.
  2. I feel incredible anxiety in my life about many things, and I can’t always coax myself past what I’m anxious about. Just last night, for instance, I had a dream that my neighbor and I were sitting on my balcony and Sammy (one of the true loves of my life) heard a dog barking down on the street below. Instead of doing his usual jumping up on the chair and looking down at the street, he actually jumped off the balcony. It happened in slo-mo in my dream, and I screamed a blood curdling scream, then woke up with a jolt out of bed. The anxiety of something happening to my dogs is one of my constant demons.

Because of number 2 above, I started going to a social worker / therapist, whatever you would call it, about a year and a half ago. She has been incredible in helping me realize how destructive this anxiety is and is helping me not fixate on it. Well, she tries. Unfortunately I can’t accomplish this, truly, without an anti-anxiety medicine. I’m very against medicines-for-life because I can’t shake that feeling of wanting to be normal without them. I fill the prescriptions, but I never take them. Last night’s dream is another indicator that a life without some sort of anti-anxiety med might not be possible.

Anyway, in the course of my seeing the therapist, she harped on issue number 1 and me not being in the dating world. This was about a year ago. She told me to stop pining for a man who may not even be what I built him up to in my head, to stop comparing everyone to him, and to “get out there.” And with that, I followed her advice. Well, the “get out there part” anyway.

So I did the only things I could think of to immediately jump into the dating world. This included going online (UGH!) and joining It’s Just Lunch (Double UGH!) In the course of these hellacious experiences, people suggested I start writing them down, as some of the stories were too priceless to not share. With that, I created Velvet in Dupont. At the time, it was just an outlet for me and my friends to enjoy. The sheer joy and feeling of accomplishment that comes from writing was and is its own reward.

The Things We Do For Love

Some of us blog about politics and there is always something going on in that world to blog about. Some of us blog about our daily lives, rants and such, and since our lives are in constant motion, there is always something to blog about. Some of us blog about a topic such as my own ~ Dating & Men. While I ensure you that I do my berrie breast to put myself in all sorts of places to meet men, I’m officially out of material, uh, men. I don’t expect the dry spell to last long, mostly because I so enjoy the torture, but for now, I will resort to a flashback post.

Since I’ve been somewhat bitter and jaded as of late, it’s going to be a happy blog.

Dating hasn’t always been this much work with this little reward. My friend Holly and I were talking recently about how easy it was when we were in our early 20’s and living in Connecticut. We both had regular “I-went-to-college-for-this?” day jobs and waited tables at a sports bar at night to supplement our paltry income. Men were everywhere, and they were nice men. Holly thinks that it was better because we saw the same people come through week after week. The town had about 100,000 residents, so it wasn’t exactly a small town. You knew about a third of the people in the bar by name, and another third by face.

Regardless, I’ve had some very good experiences in the man department – back in the days when they didn’t, as a collective gender, consistently let me down. Some stories of note follow.

1) In the more recent past, MotorcycleInstructor, despite his flaws, was incredibly giving when he wanted to be. Yeah yeah yeah, scoff if you will, but he did blow off an afternoon of work to pick up my Harley in Gaithersburg and drive it back to Dupont Circle. He did come back later that night to lock the bike up for me in the public garage. He did also come back to my apartment at 5 a.m. the next morning to drive it to inspections for me since I was too chicken to drive it there myself. Ok. Enough said.

2) My first true love, AlwaysDrunk, went on to date many many women after me. One of them was a girl named Tammy, who I went to high school with and who worked at the IT Help Desk when I worked for Nine West after college in 95-98. I had a special shoe catalog design program installed on my computer at Nine West that she had to constantly help me with. One weekend, I bumped into AlwaysDrunk and he said, “You know I’m dating Tammy, right? She said she sees you practically every day.” I said that she had never said anything. (She hadn’t.) But the next day I saw her and told her what he said and she just rolled her eyes. I said, “What? Sore subject?” And she said, “He never stops talking about you.”

3) I’m not so sure this falls in the category of “good” but it illustrates the lengths a man will go to for a woman. When TheCop and I broke up for the 157th time before my Senior Year of College in the Summer of 1994, he suspected that I broke up with him for someone else. He needed to know if I was home, alone. He climbed on to the roof of my parents house by way of a ladder and sat outside my bedroom window watching me sleep. That relationship should have ended with a restraining order.

4) Billy K. My second love. Sometime in 1996. By far the man who set all standards for how all men should behave when they really like someone. On our first date in N.Y.C., we met at a bar in Hell’s Kitchen. We both had our cars with us. He stopped on the way out of the city and filled up my car with gas and he gave me his cell phone in case I needed it. On other dates, he would drive from Queens to Connecticut to pick me up, we would go out in the city, he would take me back to CT and go back home to Queens. This is the suicidal equivalent of driving from Annapolis to Baltimore to get someone, take them out in D.C., then back to Baltimore to drop them off, finally retiring back in Annapolis. Wow.

5) Billy again. He really deserves a category, uh, entry, uh, blog of his own. Did I mention he was Greek and one of the only ones my parents let beyond the threshold of their front door? Anyway, I went to Mardi Gras in February of 1996 and he dropped me off and picked me up from LaGuardia. On my flight home, Elle MacPherson was a few rows in front of me in first class. They don’t call this woman “The Body” for nothing. So I get off the plane, barrel in front of her, find Billy at bag claim and jump in his arms. Then I say, “Look! Elle MacPherson!” And Billy says, “Who fucking cares? You’re BACK!” And I said, “Just look! You have to look. This is a once in a lifetime opportunity.” And he said, “I don’t care about her. So what? How was your trip?” That man did not take his eyes off me the entire time. Who does that?

Ok, look. I was 23 and he was 33 and he thought the age difference was too much and eventually went back to his old girlfriend. I wonder how that worked out. Sometimes I think about looking him up. Damn he was hot.

All right. I’m done with these stories. I’m depressed now. Though, I wonder if there’s a theory to be had here. Most of this intense wooing by these men happened when I was much younger and much more naive. Is it possible that men don’t expend this kind of effort on a woman in her 30’s because she’s supposed to be more independent or is it because he’s tired from having spent all his 20’s doing the things for other women that were done for me by other men?

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