you’re like, 12.

…another one bites the dust.

I’m seriously, VERY..VERY close to getting myself to a nunnery. This dating shit is insanely terrible! The next one isn’t too bad, but, ugh. Read on.

This happens to be the most recent guy that I cut off. This guy, codename “Perv,” was extremely cute… except for this stupid goddamn earring. Like, really really cute..butttt also maybe a douche. But, because I thought he was cute and fun, I tried to overlook a lot of stuff. Until..ugh, I just couldn’t anymore. I’m sure you’re wondering, how did this guy get the name Perv? Letttt me just tell you.

This guy, at 33, had responses to general conversation that went something like this:

Tempest: Hey, just got done with hot yoga!

Perv: Oh, I bet you are soaking wet.

Or…

Tempest: Sorry I’ve been quiet, crazy busy at work today.. working on a new project.

Perv: I have a project you can work on.

 

And so on, and so on.

The strange thing is, this guy was completely normal in person. Funny, maybe even charming, did I mention cute? Very cute. But sweet baby Jesus, I felt like I was talking to a prepubescent teenager half of the time.

The other warning signs? If this guy wasn’t making an inappropriate sex joke, he couldn’t take any joke. I tried joking with him several times, and he would make a passive aggressive or condescending comment. Granted, this was via text, so I tried to give him the benefit of the doubt, but it got so bad once that I actually called him to clear things up because he responded in such a shitty way. But really, are you 12?

The straw that broke the camels back… apparently homeboy had a little bit of a drinking tendency. Every time I talked to him, he was on the way to the bar, or hungover, or starting to drink again early on. I am not one to judge anyone’s personal preferences, but you are in your 30’s, and it may be time to give that party life a break. What really did it in was when he chose to start his evening at a bar… an evening we were supposed to be meeting up. Instead of going home and changing out of his grungy construction clothes, he was “forced” into going to a bar, and therefore would be late to meet up with me. Yeah no.

By the way, when I told him I wasn’t going to meet up, he proceeded to tell me how put off he was that I decided not to meet up because he had gone out.

Really? Really dude? Do you honestly think that it’s okay to be late for a date because you needed to stop and get a drink?

Nah son. Cheers, I’m out.

manwhore in training

another recent fun dating-related story. this one didn’t make it to a date, just a phone conversation after matching on bumble.

I don’t consider myself, in any way, a prude. I enjoy sex, but I’m also not a slut. I think sex forms a connection, and therefore shouldn’t be passed around like candy. Have I had casual sex? Sure. But, at 30, it’s not exactly what I’m looking for. 

I matched with this guy online, we are going to call him Jafar, because he’s definitely slightly evil, it’s close to his real name, and he is desperately trying to find a magic carpet for all the Ladieeeeeeesss.

We talk via text for a bit, and decide to talk on the phone. Here, I find out a few fun facts about ole Jafar. 

  • 36 years old and divorced. Fine, I get it, I’m divorced, and I am prepared for that type of background.
  • Actively dating. Sure, cool, me too.
  • Actively dating multiple people simultaneously. Again, okay, I’m talking to several people at most times, but once it gets to more of a “dating” scenario I try to keep it to just a few. 
  • When we say multiple, we mean 5-6 at a time. He likes to keep busy. The red flag starts making an appearance.
  • Oh and by dating, we mean dating, and usually sleeping with. Okay. Wait. You’re sleeping with several women at a time? Woah. We need to discuss.

Once that last fact popped up, I told him that we were probably not a good match, because although I will date a few people to figure out if there is a connection, I don’t think its really conducive to finding a healthy relationship if you’re sleeping with several people. Also, it’s gross. I don’t want to fuck who you’re fucking. If I did, I would go fuck them. 

He seems cool on the phone. He tries to justify it, saying, it’s easier to filter out who is a good match if he is able to explore the situation both “mentally and physically” instead of taking a lot of time with just one person, and that because he’s older, he doesn’t want to waste time. My counterargument: you can’t really get to know anyone if you’re juggling that many at a time, so really, are you saving time? He was steadfast in his opinion. I said hey, good luck to you man, I still feel that way and it’s really a deal breaker for me, but take care. End of conversation.

….hah! not. These guys can’t handle rejection to save their life.

He starts texting me, telling me how he really is safe with his sex life, and I seem smart and have a good head on my shoulders, and he hopes I will reconsider. He continues to say that he’s very loyal and committed… once he commits. Okay, I’m supposed to wait around while you stick your dick in every girl you meet in the meantime? Nah son. I reinforce what I’ve already said. It’s not something I’m okay with, and I’m not going to pretend to be okay with it just for shits and giggles. I’m staying true to me, end of story. 

gdkynm4

Then things start to take a turn… the ugly side comes out. Seriously, what is it with guys not being able to accept a “no? these days? He tells me that he’s an honest guy and that I can’t see that, and every guy is really doing this, but he just is open about it. I’m like.. okay, sure, that may be the case but.. STILL. DOESN’T. CHANGE. MY. OPINION. 

Now he’s ready to try to make a few personal hits. “You’re smart, but you don’t have any of the other qualities that are important to me. Good luck to you, we are obviously not a fit.”

Oh – so it’s my qualities that are lacking? The ones important to you? What are these qualities you speak of, that y]a 30 minute phone conversation releaved I am missing? Is it weakness? Is that a quality I should have and clearly don’t, because I’m not taking your shit? Promiscuity, for not being thrilled to jump in bed with you? 

Oh.

I know.

It’s herpes. This guy is clearly looking for herpes. Good luck with that, Jafar! Pretty sure you’ll have no problem finding that sometime soon. 

xoxo, Tempest.

..but did you die?

Let’s take it from the top on some of my most fun Northeastern dating stories

This one actually isn’t too bad, but the situation irritated me enough to make it to my blog! I went out with a guy kind of randomly on Sunday. Yes, I met this person on the internet, and I KNOW I’m a huge hypocrite, having sworn off online dating at least 71,213 times. But, alas, times are hard for a girl with a strong RBF and an three+ inch height advantage. So, online dating it is.

This guy, for the purpose of anonymity, will be called “Mr. Unresponsive.” This is probably one of the least original nicknames I have ever come up with, because this guy is literally that terrible about responding, and that is the only memorable thing I took away from this encounter.

I’m being mean, I actually really enjoyed myself on the date, but because of what happened after the date, I want to kind of be a bitch about it. I’m a woman, so sue me.

Anyway, Mr. Unresponsive started off as a really bad communicator. Now, I know I am over the top with communication in most circumstances, so I do try to be a little forgiving, especially if I don’t really know someone’s communication style. Anyway, this guy wasn’t really giving me much in the initial chat on the app we matched on, and still didn’t give me a whole lot when we eventually moved to texting. But, I went with it. I thought to myself, hey, maybe it’s a good idea to meet someone with this little information and let it come out on the date, right? Wrong. This is a bad idea.

The date started a little rocky. About an hour before the date, I texted him to confirm we were still on (I do not want to drive and get stood up, yknow?) and he says “Yeah”. So about 30 minutes later I let him know I’m leaving. I don’t hear back from him, but that’s okay, I don’t really need a response.

We were meeting in his town, because me, being a motherfucking nice girl, offered to drive closer to him so he could pick his favorite spot. I am new to the area, after all, and like checking out new places. So, I drive to the place he picks which happens to be right smack in the middle of some goddamn festival.  Which means, there is no way to actually get TO the place. My GPS is all “turn left, turn left,” and I’m like damnit bitch I literally can’t. So, I pull over and text him. “Hey, I’m having trouble finding a way to get to this place, or finding somewhere to park, suggestions?” Nothing. No response. Mind you, it is now about 7:05, we were meeting at 7, and my last message to him was that I was on my way, which he also never responded to.

So, I call him. Natural reaction, right? No answer. So I start driving again, trying to at least decipher where the place is and what side street I can park on, in the middle of a festival, in the middle of a town that I know nothing about, in the dark, with anxiety levels rising through the roof. I was pretty irritated.

A few minutes later he calls back, as I am just finding a spot. He is pretty unapologetic when I’m like “Wow, you chose the most inconvenient place ever.” Anyway, I park and make my way to the restaurant.

First impression, he’s not a bad looking dude, not my normal type but he’s alright. We sit down, we eat, we talk, things seem to actually go pretty well, all things considered. It started off rough, but at the end, I actually felt like it was pretty good.

The date ends, and I head out. I text him to tell him I made it home, and had a great time and let me know if he would like to do it again sometime. No response.

Next day. No response.

Next day. I send him a message saying “How’s your day going?” I’m erring on the side of bold, because I know this guy is probably trying to ghost, and I’m just gonna put a feeler out. After all, he was a pretty shitty texter to begin with, so I try to give him the benefit of the doubt.

No response.

kanye.jpeg

A full goddamn 72 hours later, this guy finally sends something. At this point, I had already written him off as a punk ass bitch for ghosting. His message?

“I had a good time with you, but I didn’t feel a connection, good luck.”

Alright. So at first glance I think, okay, maybe he’s not a bad guy, at least he finally said something and didn’t leave me hanging. But then, I think about it.

I’m sorry, it took you SEVENTY-TWO HOURS to figure this out? You didn’t “feel a connection?” Is there some type of incubation period on connections that I don’t fucking know about? The fuck??

Anyway, it was one date, and definitely not worth any more of my time than I already wasted on this guy, so I just responded “You too, thanks!” Eat a dick. NEXT!

 

hopeless, not romantic

Oh, dating. Dating, dating, dating, how you make me want to throat punch innocent people and steal candy from children. Dating really is the worst. As you may know if you’ve read a few of my posts before, I recently relocated. My stupid ass, as much as I have said I should NOT date, I am very very bad at it… decided to take a swing and go for it.

Guys, it still is a shit show. Dating is SO BAD.

So, I decided to share some of my misery with the interwebs in a new blog section called “Hopeless, Not Romantic

Hopeless, Not Romantic will be your insight into just how bad the dating world is for a 30 year old divorcee. Just how bad men have become these days. Just how sad and miserable it is out here for a pretty decent girl. If you are in a struggling relationship, I implore you, check out Hopeless, Not Romantic…and you will understand how important it is to make the somewhat good ones work. If you are thinking about dating, I implore you, fucking don’t, it’s bad.

I hope that you find my adventures in dating to be amusing, and I look forward to sharing them! Someone really oughta benefit from this dumpster fire that I call a dating life.

 

push.

Ok…well, I have been complete shit at writing lately, so I’ll give you guys a deep one today.

Over the past year or so, I’ve done a lot of self-exploration and been very honest with myself about some of my own shortcomings. Sometimes brutally honest, which is a little tough, but it does feel good to have these self realizations.

One of the things I’ve realized about myself that I have been completely unable to work on is my constant desire to push people away. It’s a natural reaction for me, and happens almost as soon as I start feeling like I like someone. I even do it to friends. Sometimes I think that maybe this comes from losing my mom, and wanting to push people away to protect myself, but sometimes I also think it’s just because I want to prove that people will leave me. It’s like some fucked up version of psychological torture and self sabotage. But, as much as I hate it, I still do it.

The really shitty thing is.. I even know when I’m doing it, and I can’t even stop in most cases. I will pick a fight, push, do whatever I need to do to give someone an “out,” and then act upset when they actually take it. Like no shit they’re gonna bounce, I’m fuckin nuts sometimes!

I don’t want to continue doing this, and I know in order to stop I really need to get to the root of why I do this. I don’t want to be alone, I want to have people there for me, but I have to find out how to open up and let them be there. By the way, if anyone has any ideas or pointers, please feel free to share 🙂

So, over the next several months, I am going to be focusing on not pushing people out, and just being open and not trying to give someone a reason to need an out. I mean all things aside, I am pretty strong and badass 99% of the time, even with my flaws.

xoxo, Tempest.

 

flagged.

The hardest thing sometimes in fledgling relationships is seeing red flags. And even harder than seeing the red flags are listening to them, and walking away from them when it’s smart to do so.

Historically, I have had a terrible time with part two of the above statement. I can see red flags all day, sometimes from a mile away, but I am a master at justification. This problem usually rears its ugly head with the emotionally unavailable… those signs are ALWAYS there, yet, do I listen? Nope. Neeewwwp.

On the flip side, are red flags always deal breakers? Do they have to be? Or are they things that one should simply be wary of and use as a warning to proceed with caution? After all, no one is perfect, and when you’re dating in your late 20s – early 30s, it’s really hard to find someone without SOME baggage, amirite?

Here’s the other tough part with red flags, and I know this isn’t something that only I have trouble with (lookin at you, B) – how do we filter out the REALLY bad red flags, the ones we should listen to and/or run away from, before we are emotionally invested in someone? Since these traits don’t always pop up in the first week or two of dating, how do we shield ourselves, while still being open enough to get to know someone? This shit is damn near impossible, people. Or maybe I’m bad at humaning, whatever. But that’s really the ultimate question… how do I know someone’s red flag is a deal breaker, and how do I abort mission before my own feelings are involved?

I don’t have the answers to this, obviously, but one thing I have learned is that people will generally tell you who they are, sometimes it’s just up to us to listen. When a guy says “I don’t have a girlfriend because I’m an asshole,” there’s a really good chance that said guy is, in fact, an asshole. Girls are just notoriously bad for hearing what we want to hear, or making excuses to make a square peg fit in a round hole. Oh well. C’est la vie.

Until next time,

xoxo, Tempest.

 

 

change.

I suspect I will be posting a lot more in the coming weeks, since I have so much change ahead of me and will need to go on a few rants here and there.

Tonight is my final night in Atlanta. Phew. It has absolutely not sunk in yet.

I have been reflecting today on how I want to use this upcoming fresh start to my advantage. I have this golden opportunity to start brand new, and to really be the person I want to be. The question is… who the fuck is that?

To tackle this question, I’ve come up with three main focus areas for my new life.

One of the problems I find myself running into is that I don’t really know how to let myself let go sometimes. I am lacking a chill zone. I like to plan, I like things to go accordingly, I like when things fall into place. But the thing about life is.. it doesn’t really like letting that happen. And then I end up stressed out, anxious, worried, pushing people away, getting myself into a funk and… for what? Step one in new life: Chill. The Fuck. Out.

Another recurring theme in my life is my problems with interpersonal relationships. I used to think this was just romantic relationships, but I have recently realized I have issues with pretty much all relationships. I am great at making friends and being very social, but I am not so good at connecting with people on a deeper level. This is partially because I keep a pretty solid wall up to protect myself, which does work but… while it keeps me safe, it also keeps people from being able to get to know the truly weird and wonderful me. Step two in new life: Be who I really am, and if people don’t like it they can suck it. 

The third step is the hardest. I am deathly afraid of ending up alone or not being cared about. I say I am happy being single, and in a lot of ways I am, but in many ways I feel like I’m always looking for that next great love. However, I also know that before I conquer steps 1&2, I am not ready for it, and all I am doing is setting myself up for failure if I try to force it. I. am not. ready. I know that. I can’t let things flow, I am not open. As mentioned above, I know this, and am ready to take the steps to get there, but logically, I need to be alone. I need to be alone to experience my life and what I want out of it before I try to bring another person in at that level. Step three in new life: stand strong by myself, for myself. 

My next post will be from another state!! Woooo!

xoxo, Tempest.

soulmatch.

index

Let’s talk about soulmates. If you have found this supposed soulmate, hooray! Do not read any further, because I’m only going to piss you off. I don’t think that soulmates are probable. A good dream, yes, but a dream nonetheless. I talked about this over the weekend with my family and we all kind of came to this same conclusion (except my grandma, who decided mine was a boyfriend back in high school for some godawful reason, and oh by the way my aunt’s is her exhusband…**souuuullmatesss**)

Think about for a minute… if there is just ONE person that is made for you, in the ENTIRE WORLD. The whole world, for fuck’s sake. It’s a big world, guys. It’s kind of depressing to consider that there is just one person, that you are somehow magically supposed to find, and everything is magical and everyone lives happily ever after, right? What if your soul mate is someone who lives in a third world country off the grid, how are you supposed to meet them? Life finds a way..? (Yes, read that in Ian Malcolm’s Jurassic Park voice). The other bleak thing about this one-person-is-made-for-you theory is… what about all the people who really really love each other, but maybe.. it’s like a 99% match. Really great but.. not..quite. The soulmate theory means a shitload of people are just hanging out and settling for what is good enough.

I like the idea better, and think it’s much more probable, that instead of this one person we are supposed to find, that there are soul..matches. A soulmatch can be anyone who can just identify with your soul. It doesn’t have to be just one person, either, there could be multiple people, and maybe you’ll come in contact with them… and maybe you won’t. The point is, it’s possible. And it probably would create a lot more happy endings, if instead of trying to find this one unicorn, we find a soulmatch, or maybe multiple soulmatches throughout life, who can understand you for who you are. All your quirks and eccentricies and things that make you you, they can understand, support, and hopefully enrich.

I know at first glance this post seems bitter, but in fact, it’s optimistic. Finding a person in your life who can do this is inspiring, and the idea that it doesn’t have to be locked down to one person living in an igloo somewhere is encouraging. It makes me feel like there is something out there that can work, kind of like my current healthy and successful relationship with pizza. And anything that can rival pizza sounds like a damn good thing.

 

xoxo, Tempest.

 

drained.

I’ve written a lot about my struggles with romantic relationships on this blog, but lately I’ve also thought about friendships, and how I have let the toxic ones impact me over the years. The same problems that get me in trouble with dating also get me in trouble with friendships, but it usually takes much, much longer for me to realize it. If I’ve invested a lot of time and energy, saying no or stepping away from someone becomes very hard for me, if not damn near impossible.

It’s time to say no. I have to learn to say no to things that are not okay for me.

My problem, you see, is I naturally want to take care of people. This means I tend to seek out romantic partners and friends that probably need to be taken care of in some way. Not calling anyone broken, but I tend to find people that are maybe not whole enough in themselves to be in a functional, healthy relationship themselves. In dating, I find out VERY quickly that my natural tendency to “caretake” won’t be reciprocated (note, I don’t always expect it to be, but you know.. it is nice sometimes damnit). In friendships, however, it can take months or years to find out that some people just don’t care or maybe aren’t worth the investment.

The end result is I spend a lot of time trying to make people happy, and in return I am left drained. 

I’ve talked to my therapist quite a bit about this, and how I can work on determining where to draw my own boundaries. I do have some very great friends, but I have many over the years that I have given my power to, and it’s gotten me hurt. I’ve put my trust in people that I thought would have my back, when all they wanted to do was thrust a knife into it for their own means. Sadly, in a lot of these situations I’ve seen the writing on the wall, but I’m so scared to just say “no” to someone that I still let it happen. I don’t want to look like a bitch, or look selfish, or look like I don’t care about someone that I’m close to. I’ve realized now that although it might hurt to put up these boundaries, and it may be hard for me to say no, it’s going to hurt a whole hell of a lot worse when I inevitably get burned by someone exhibiting these red flags. 

As much as I wish to have the power to do so, I can’t change anyone. All I can change is myself, the amount of myself that I am willing to give to other people, and how I react to situations. I am the writer of my own story, and the only one who gets to say how I live my life is me.

height:asshole.

If you’ve been reading my blog for a while, you may have read an aside where I mentioned that one of the ways to get to my heart is to be 6’3. If you haven’t been reading my blog for a while, for shame, reader, for shame!! Anyway, I picked 6’3 as a very specific height, and here’s why. I’m 5’10, so you would think I would LOVE a guy who is way super taller than me, like 6’3+. To be honest, I used to. When I met a guy who was 6’5, I would get all giddy, like “Ohemgeeee I get to feel like a little princess like all these short bitches!!” Right?! WRONG.

Here’s the thing about tall guys. Every inch above 6’3, they get an extra asshole point. I’m blanketing this statement…I’m sure there are guys that are very tall and very kind and generous, but the ones I’ve met and dated overall have been pretty strong in the douchebaggery category. Super tall guys think they’re hotter than they are, because they are tall, they get to act like a 9 when in real life they’re barely pushing a 7. Super tall guys think the world has to look up to them and they feel entitled. Super tall guys don’t stop fucking talking about how super tall they are. Yo homie, we can see you! Basically, super tall guys have an aura of being able to treat anyone however they want, because they’re “above you”.

I have said this to tall guys before, usually ones in that safe sub-6’3 zone, and they usually agree, but then point out that shorter guys have the Napoleon complex thing going on. If that is to be believed, that means that all women are basically fucked, because we get either tall assholes or short angry chihuahuas, right? Also wrong. There is definitely a sweet spot, and that sweet spot is 100% accented by character. Guys falling in the average height range seem to have a little more personality, versus guys going into the above average range that start getting cockier by the inch. I can attest to some guys having Napoleon complex in the shorter range, but that’s usually when the extreme lower quartile (5’5 or shorter, in my experience.) With all of this very proven scientific evidence, it is safe to assume the sweet spot probably lies between about 5’6 and about 6’2, give or take. Every inch above 6’3, there is a really good chance you are flirting dangerously with asshole category, and anyone above 6’5, forget it.

All in all, height, while it can be very important, doesn’t outweigh someone’s disposition. I don’t tend to date people shorter than me, not because I judge them at all (you can’t control your height), but because I’m essentially some kind of Amazon woman and I feel humongo in that scenario. However, I would much rather date someone shorter than me than someone who is a complete dick and doesn’t know how to treat other humans.

As a disclaimer, if you’re a tall guy reading this, please don’t be offended, I’m sure there are some good eggs out there. If you’re a tall guy reading this and you are, in fact an asshole, stop. You can still change your ways, and giving a shit about people is way way sexier than just acting like you’re the shit, all the time.

xoxo, Tempest.