keep this a secret.
Has anyone ever felt like they were being kept a secret before? I have, and it’s terrible.
Has anyone ever felt like they were being kept a secret before? I have, and it’s terrible.
Whoa, I knew I had been slacking on posting, but wow, I didn’t realize it had been quite this long. My bad.
I’m going to be really honest with the reason I haven’t posted in a while.
I’ve noticed that even though this blog is really meant to be a platform for me to be my true, fucked up self, I fail at being completely transparent. And when things get really hard, I just don’t post. I’ve decided I need to start being real with myself here.
With that said, here are the main things that are going on with my life right now, that have made it very difficult for me to put it down to be recorded forever on the interwebs:
So, there’s the truth. The real, transparent, truth.
Warning: This post says fuck a lot.
Have you guys heard of this whole “cuffing season” thing? Some strange phenomenon where, during the winter months, these dumb ass boys decide they want to be in a “relationship” because you know…it’s cold, lonely, and generally depressing to be alone on the holidays? Apparently this is a thing. Seriously. Look it up. I’ll wait.
I’m baaaaccckk! This post may be a little lengthy, because I have a lot to say. Also, I know carpe la vie isn’t actually a thing, but it maybe should be.
First, let’s talk about my trip. DR was basically amazing, for several different reasons. It’s a beautiful place, so you can’t really go wrong there.. but I also met some really awesome people. Turns out that wedding crashing has a few perks!
One of the beautiful things about going to a place like the Dominican Republic is the opportunity to completely disconnect. I am admittedly very connected all the time, and I sometimes feel very lost when I don’t have a phone or tablet nearby to stay up to speed on what is going on. In Punta Cana, I was able to step away from that. Ok.. the WiFi sucked ass, so I was partially forced to, but you get the point. I’ve been trying to be better about stepping away from screens, and this was a good opportunity to do that. I didn’t record performances, I didn’t take a shit-ton of selfies (just a moderate ton), and most importantly.. I just focused on the moment.
Okay, it’s maybe a little about boys. Well.. relationships, as always.
I’ve been doing okay with the whole dating thing. I met a guy who actually seems like a really good guy, which I feel like was getting tough and making me extremely bitter towards the whole dating scene. Great, right? Wrong! Have you met me?! I am the queen of overthinking everything, and I can break things so very easily. Sometimes, I even break them on purpose. I’ve mentioned before that I like to push people away. It’s like pushing a glass vase off of a shelf to see if it breaks. Guess what… it does! And then you’re all pissed off because you had this lovely glass vase and now, gone. Shattered. Kaput.
Anyway, I haven’t done this yet with this one, but I have noticed something that I thought was worth writing about.
When my walls come down, theirs go up. I think this is because I start any relationship EXTREMELY guarded, and when I start letting someone in, they get this full 100% blast of Tempest that they maybe didn’t expect and certainly weren’t prepared for. Hence: walls. Like oh shit, this girl has a super strong personality and I don’t know how to human anymore! (They probably aren’t thinking that, but you get the gist…)
The new challenge I am now facing is how do I let enough of my true self shine through in the beginning, without feeling vulnerable and afraid to peek over my very well built and well maintained walls. In theory, I should start breaking some of them down. I know this. But guys, I have worked a LONG time on building these bitches up, the idea of tearing them down is terrifying.
Or could it be that I just haven’t met the right person that can handle the me that is scared, and hides, and is afraid to love, but also the me who is passionate, and brave, and over the top? Can I be allowed to have my walls sometimes, but still have someone see me as me? Is that a thing?
Until next time!
…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.
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.
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.
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!
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,
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.
Dating apps. They’re everywhere. There is one for every walk of life, and they keep popping up. They’re out of control. The swiping needs to stop!
Here’s the problem, at least as I see it. There are way too many options, and everyone is always looking for the next best thing, instead of organically getting to know someone. I’m speaking from both experience and observation here.
While I like to think that I’m some dashingly beautiful girl that could just pick up guys wherever I go, realistically, I apparently can come off as intimidating (5’10 and a mean resting bitch face is my best guess) and I tend to stick with my friends when out and about, instead of going full social butterfly mode. Plus, most of my hobbies are pretty much solo… reading, blogging, running, and Netflix binging, basically, so little opportunity in that arena. That leaves work (probably a bad idea), friends of friends (but then you have friendcest) and stupid online dating. So yeah, I’ve done it. And…
I. Hate. It.
Don’t get me wrong, it’s a great way to meet people that you may not have met otherwise. Besides that pro though, there are WAY more cons.
I could probably go on and on about this, but those are the top ten reasons that I’ve decided that I hate online dating. I know many people have had successful relationships using these platforms but for me… #singleforever!