He does a body good?

Wow. Has it really been a year?

My first instinct is to google "Songs that have the word 'year' in them," and start off with a quote, but then I remembered, I am supposed to be wriitng funny stuff, not serious and sentimental nonsense. I'll save that stuff for facebook posts.

After a semi-successful 5 month relationship, I'm back in the game. Again, the instinct strikes to google songs with "game," but I'll hold off as long as I can.

"Semi-successful?" you ask. Well, it wasn't a complete train wreck like FREaK, where I found out he was into all sorts of weird shit, so it wasn't a TOTAL disaster. But, it definitely didn't end in happiness, as I had hoped.

Anyways, I'll get right to it.

Back on JDate and Match, I was ready to get back into dating.

Paul and I agreed to meet at a nice French restaurant near my apartment. I usually hate to do dinner for a first date, but Paul was hot. I mean, REALLY hot. And did I mention he was 6'4"? The only negative was that he was a teacher. Yes, I am a teacher. Don't judge me for judging others.

I arrived first, but Paul showed up a few minutes later in all of his 6'4" of glory. He was actually quite skinny, bordering on scrawny, but his face and those blue eyes totally made up for it.

We sat down, and within a few minutes the waitress came to take our drink orders.

"I'll have a glass of the sauvignon blanc," I smiled. (Notice that with a year comes a newfound maturity. I have graduated from drinking sophmoric pinot grigio, to the more cultured sauvignon blanc).

"And you, sir?" the waitress asked.

"I'll have a glass of milk," my date said.

The waitress chuckled. Then noticed that Paul's face remained deadpan.

"Uh, um, ok...," she said and scurried off.

"MILK?" I asked in disgust. I couldn't help myself. I mean, I'm not an alcoholic or anything, but really?? Who goes to a French restaurant on a first date and orders milk.

"I need my protein," he explained, as if that was a completely logical response.

And with that simple mention of a delicious white beverage, I realized I had a long road ahead of me.

...And what could possibly be more fitting now that to finish with a little diddy by Evan and Jaron (remember those guys?) called "The Long Road:"

Will I walk the long road? Cannot stay.

I have wished for so long. How I wish for you today.

And no, I don't really understand what that means or what that song is even about, but hey, it has "long road" in it, right? And it's by Evan and Jaron...

Epilogue: Return of the FREaK

As I mentioned in my last post, hearing such disturbing news about my ex-boyfriend, helped me to eradicate him from my mind and life immediately. I was moving on.

Over the summer, I saw some speed dating event for "tall singles" online. Why the heck not, I figured. I had always been curious about speed dating, and figured if nothing else, I would most likely meet some characters who I could blog about. So, I called my friend Sue, and she agreed to go with me.

Sue and I met across the street from the downtown bar where the tall singles speed dating was to begin in approximately 5 minutes. We watched skeptically as tall, yet overweight, balding (if not already completely bald) men entered the bar for the event. Well, we already paid, so what the heck. We crossed the street, and went into the bar.

It was pretty much exactly what I expected. For those of you who have never been to a speed dating event (and I don't recommend you start now), there were about 10 men, and 10 women, and we were assigned seats throughout the bar, and told that the men would rotate to us and we would sit and talk for three minutes. Yessss, at least I wouldn't have to walk around in these heels.

The first few guys I met were nice, but let's just say, were not my type. I was on my second glass of wine, and trying my hardest to continue smiling. My head was down, because we had to mark down our "rating" of each guy after we met him. I saw a shadow out of the corner of my eye, as the next guy sat down. I looked up, my smile permanantly plastered across my face. I could not believe who sat across from me.

It was FREaK.

Strangely, the first thing that ran through my head was, he's not even tall! He is like, 5' 10" at best, and the event is only for men over 6 feet!

Uh, hi J, he mumbled, clearly as uncomfortable as I was.

I stared at him in silence, perma-smile and all, frozen and unable to speak. So, he took that as a cue to continue.

I, uh, I know the girl who runs these things, so I, uh, thought I'd check one out. How ya been? Can I get you a drink?

I replied in one word: NO, and ran the fuck outta there.

The girl in charge, FREaK's friend, ran after me. After all, if there were 10 guys and only 9 girls, the whole speed dating thing wouldn't go as planned.

Sweetie, is he your ex or something? Don't run out! Then HE wins! You don't want him to win, do you? she coaxed.

I just laughed, texted Sue that I'd meet her after the event, and walked down the block.

Thankfully, that was the last time I saw him.

From the Vault: FREaK

So apparently it takes me getting the flu to get back on track with this blog. Sorry, to my now 13! loyal followers. But here is one for your reading pleasure...

Due to the lack of posts, I decided to go for the big one; the sure-to-be climax of all my dating stories: FREaK.

FREaK and I met on Match.com over 2 years ago. Our first date was perfect, and the next few were as well. Within a week, we were a self-proclaimed couple, boyfriend and girlfriend if you will. He even helped put together a last minute 25th birthday party for yours truly. I really thought I had found my Prince Charming...Boy, was I wrong!

The next nine months were rocky to say the least. Some days, FREaK really was my prince charming. He was attentive, romantic, and funny. Other days, he would be distant, disappear for the night or weekend, or leave me literally waiting for him for hours on the stoop of his apartment. The sex was rare and unexciting, but I didn't care. I was in love.

After a quick breakup over the summer that lasted about 3 days, we got back together, and then broke up for real in December. The breakup came as a complete surprise for me. I was sitting on my couch with my suitcase, as we had planned a romantic getaway to Mystic, Connecticut for the weekend. FREaK came over and comfessed, that he just didn't "feel right" going to Mystic with me, when he "wasn't in love with me."

You can feel bad for me now, I sure did. I was a mess for a good two months, barely eating, and hoping to run into FREaK at any chance I could get.

I thought that he was my one true love, and I truly believed I would never get over him. That was until one email changed everything.

Dear J,
I know you don't know me, but I know you. I am FREaK's girlfriend. I am writing to you on behalf of Saturday night. I know you drunk texted FREaK to hang out. I am asking you out of the kindness of my heart not to contact him anymore, as we are very much in love. Thank you for your cooperation in this matter and I wish you luck in all of your future endeavors. If you need to contact FREaK, please do so only through me, at FREaKsGirl@aol.com. Thanks again.
-FREaKsGirl

Ok, so I admit, I had drunk texted FREaK on Saturday. However, he had been texting and calling me as well. It seemed we were both having a hard time letting go, not just me.

I wrote back a very mature, angry email to FREaKsGirl.

Dear FREaKsGirl,
You should tell your wonderful boyfriend, who you are so in love with, to stop contacting ME every single week. I texted him once. ONCE. He calls/emails/texts me EVERY SINGLE WEEK, so get over yourself.
-J

Ok, so maybe it wasn't mature, but I was pissed.

A few hours later, I recieved this response:

J,
I meant no harm in sending that email. I'm sorry if I offended you. FREaK has been nothing but a loving boyfriend to me...however, in the past few hours some new, incriminating information has come to my attention. I don't know what to do. Just looking for a little woman-to-woman looking out for eachother. If you would like to discuss, please call me at 555-9124.
-FREaKsGirl

Out of sheer curiosity, I picked up the phone and dialed. FREaKsGirl was a nice enough young girl, in the midst of what seemed to be a panic attack. In between trying to catch her breath, she relayed the disturbing information to me:

FREaK has been disappearing a lot lately. Like going away for the weekend, and not answering his cell phone and stuff. Did he ever do that to you? (Yes.) So when he left for work this morning, I decided to go through his stuff. Did you ever do that? (No.) And you will NOT, [gasp] BELIEVE [sob] WHAT I FOUND! You know those drawers under his bed? (Yes.)THEY ARE FILLED WITH DILDOS, A LATEX BODY SUIT, BUTT PLUGS (What are those?), WOMEN'S UNDERWEAR, AND A PAIR OF SIZE 14 WOMAN'S HEELS!

J, are you still there? There's more.

So then I logged into his computer. I went under his "favorite" sites, and found out that he is IN A SEX CLUB! Like one, where they all meet up and have giant orgies! His photo is posted and EVERYTHING. His interests are listed as "anal stretching, emotional manipulation, and RAPE FANTASIES. RAPE!!!"

I didn't know whether to laugh or cry. So I did both. And then I called FREaK at work.

WHAT THE FUUUUUCK! I screamed into the reciever.

Just calm down, FREaK reassured me, not wanting to create a scene at his prestigious law firm.

I frantically relayed everything that FREaKsGirl had just told me, praying he would say she is a lunatic, of course none of it's true, he is breaking up with her immediately, etc, etc. But instead, all I got was silence. Eerie silence. He really didn't have to say anything. His silence said it all.

And suddenly, just like that, I was very much over FREaK...

It's About Suppression

So every day, my loyal readers (all 12 of you) beg me to blog, blog blog. And I say, "I can't!" You see, I need to be inspired, something has to happen that makes me think, I need to blog. Now. This instant.

Well, my friends, that instant has arrived.

Val and I met online, and agreed to grab a drink in the neighborhood where we both live. The first drink was pleasant enough. It was everything a date should be - conversation flowed, there was definitely a mutual attraction, and we were excited to see one another again. With a hug goodbye, Val and I parted ways.

A few days later, I was happy to see that he texted me (after all, who actually makes phone calls anymore?)

Our second date went just as smoothly. More drinks, more conversation, more good times. There was some kissing, which was suprisingly nice.

Val and I continued to text, trying to make plans for date number three.

So, I was in the car driving home from work with my friends when my cell phone made its innocuous "bleep bleep bleep!" to signify an incoming text.

Val: Hey, when am I seeing you?
Me: Well I'm free tonight if you want to hang.

(Yes, I know, I'm supposed to look busy, and in my defense I actually had plans that fell through...)

Val: Can't tonight.
Me: Ok.
Val: I need to tell you something though.

This is where things got interesting. I was waiting for "I can't wait to see you again," or "I really wanted to come to your apartment last time." Here's what I got instead, copied directly from my phone:

Val: Don't ever know how to say this, but I have genital herpes...
Me: Um, is this a joke?
Val: I wouldn't joke about that. I've had it for about 6 years. I take meds every day and don't have many outbreaks a year.
Me: Uh, ok. Why didn't you tell me sooner?
Val: It's awkward to tell someone face to face, (sidenote: nooo, you think?) so I resort to this. I always tell someone if it looks like we might have sex soon...

HA! KEEP DREAMING BUDDY!

A few more texts followed, but that was the jist of it. I was utterly disgusted. I mean, part of me feels bad for the guy. At least he told me, he just as easily could have let it slide. But still, I am so repulsed. Talk about a relationship killer...

P.S. Shoutout to teachers in carros for an awesome title. Hope you appreciate his pseudonym as well :)

Britney's back bitch.

From the Vault: Fantasies, Rear End and Kinkiness

It's been about a week without a date. I'm pretty sure I've exghausted the depository of dateable New York males.

So, for your reading pleasure, I will later introduce you to a man of my past. Let's just call him Fantasies, Rear End and Kinkiness, or FREaK for short.

Yes, pun very much intended.

Creepy Emails are Just a Part of my Life

I had to share this little gem with everyone out there:

To: Singlelady
From: Animallvr

Hi! Dolphins sleep with one eye open! Just a cool fact to get your attention.


Wow. That's all I have to say, wow.

The Stalker

I had completely forgotten about the stalker.

That is, until this little gem popped into my email inbox at precisely 7:43 pm tonight.

This is the exact email, the only thing I have changed is the name:

Hey,

I just wanted to check in and say hi. We went out a couple of times a couple years back and I've always remembered how sweet and nice and special you were. Just wondering if you'd like to give things another shot with us as I'd love to take you out to dinner sometime. Have a great day and I hope all is well.

Larry

It was very easy to choose a psudeoname for stalker. Let's just say that everything about this guy screams "Larry" (No offense to any Larry's out there).

This may at first, appear to be a sweet and normal email, about a love-struck Romeo, trying to woo his Juliet. However, you have no idea about my past with Larry.

My "relationship" with Larry, was bizarre from the start. I had instant messaged a cute guy on Jdate (yes, I've been on it for over a year), and the guy responded:

Singlelady: Hey there.
HotGuy101: Hey, I actually just started dating someone, but you look cute. Wanna go out with my friend? He's not on jdate, but I can send you a picture?

Hopefully you know me well enough by now, loyal reader, that you know my answer before I even type it.

Singlelady: Sure! Send it to Singlelady@gmail.com

No, that is not my actual screenname, nor is it his, so nice try, trying to find our profiles online. Anyways, the picture was decent enough, so off I went, with HotGuy101's friend, good ol' Larry. The date was nothing horrible. In fact it was so un-memorable that I really can't recall a single detail. All I remember, is that there were clearly no sparks.

But that didn't stop Larry. When he called me the next day, I kindly explained to him, that while he seemed like a great guy, I just didn't think there was any chemistry.

Most people get the hint after that.

Nope. Not Larry.

Larry called the next day, and the next, and the next, begging me to go out with him again. This next part makes me sound even more pathetic than Larry.

I caved.

"Fine, one more date," I sighed over the phone. "But if there is no chemistry again, then that's it."

He happily agreed.

I went. There was no chemistry again. Shocking.

The calls didn't stop. When I stopped answering the phone, that's when the emails started. Lucky for you, gmail archives all of them for your viewing pleasure. The emails were mostly just "good morning" emails, and funny clips he had found that he "thought I would enjoy."

Then, there was this one:

Hey,

I'm getting the vibe that you're not as interested in a third date as I am. That's cool. Thank you very much for spending time with me twice. Best of luck!
Larry

I wish that's where they ended...A week later...

Hi,

I don't know why I'm writing. But, I loved spending time with you. I've thought about you every now and again. I was wondering if you were interested in being friends? Totally on your terms.

Larry

Hey,

How's it going? Is your search for a guy going well? If you ever want to hang out (as friends of course), or if there is anything I can ever do for you, please let me know.

Larry

Hey!
Just want to say that the two dates I went on with you were the best two dates I've ever been on. I hope all is well in your search for a guy. Have a great day!
Larry

These were all entertaining to me, and harmless enough...until the email that screamed "RESTRAINING ORDER."

Hey,

Say, if you're ever so busy that you don't have time to go grocery shopping or something, let me know. I'd love to run errands for you. Especially when it's bitter cold out. There are probably things that you'd rather not get up and do. Just let me know, and I'd get so much pleasure out of doing them for you...

Larry

That is copied, word for word, from my forever-scarred gmail archive box. Needless to say, I was now thoroughly creeped out by Larry. If there was ever a line between pathetic nice guy and creepy stalker, he had crossed it.

It had been a year since I had heard from Larry. I thought he was out of my life. Forever. So when I saw that email in my inbox today, please don't think I'm a terrible person for slamming on the delete button with all of my might.