Not a Word

We all know that talking can get you into trouble on dates. Whether you drop a bomb about your baggage, manage to insult their mother, or just get flustered, it's easy to say the wrong thing. That's why we had to share a story from a reader about someone ruining things by keeping mum. Hope you enjoy this story as much as I did! Thanks for the contribution, sweetheart!


HAPPY DATING!!

So, recently I have decided to get out of my two year long dating funk by taking a "Yes Man" approach to dating.  I say yes to pretty much any guy who asks me out within reason (okay, so I'm not so good at the 'yes to everything rule.'). Still, I have been out on more dates this year than the last two combined and there have been some pretty awesome ones in the mix.  But who really wants to hear about the good dates? It is all about the awkward, the weird, the dramatic. So here is a weird one for all of you.

It is a second date scenario - second dates are my downfall, I swear. This one had promise though, the guy (we'll call him Dean) and I had a great first date and kept up with each other consistently with calls and texts. He lives a little ways from me, so the second date was about two weeks after the first.  I was set to have a great time. We were going to see "Prometheus" at midnight (I'm a sci-fi/comic book/fantasy geek so it is right up my alley), and I was under the impression that we were doing a double date with a friend of his. Nope. I meet up at the theater with him and I'm happy to see that he's waiting outside with tickets and my favorite drink, only to tell me that his friend is third wheeling. I was less than excited, but I like making friends and luckily got on well with the new guy immediately. 

Now, here's where it gets weird.

Dean turns out to be a total movie buff - something that would be awesome if he were not also the type who likes to 'immerse himself completely.' He was totally pretentious about the entire movie experience, already critiquing the previews of Prometheus before we got in.  Which, as someone who dedicates most of her study to analyzing the form and construct of comics, was interesting but the second we hit the theater door he completely clammed up. Honestly, he would not even try to hold a conversation with me and we had an hour until previews started. He told me that he had to get into the right mindset and that he could not talk. I nodded politely and munched on my popcorn, which earned a sympathetic look from the friend who, helpfully, tried to start up talk with us, only to get shushed.  The entire time I was thinking, "Seriously, dude? You are not the one flying into space to find your creator, you'll be fine if you hold a conversation with me."  The date ended and he did not even walk me to the car or give me a kiss goodnight.  The only good thing about the night was his friend who was actually polite and interesting. Go figure.

And the real kicker? A few days ago he asked me to Spiderman and I really can't bring myself to go even with my loosely followed 'yes' rule telling me I should.

Familiar Underwear

Howdy, dear daters! It's been a while, but hopefully all is well in your love lives. I'm bringing you a guest submission from a sweet friend and reader who has a unique and perplexing situation on his hands. Here's hoping that one of you can give him a hand, so to speak. HAPPY DATING!!

An odd situation arose in the bedroom for me the other day.  My current girlfriend of a considerable amount of time and I were being intimate when I removed her shirt to find that she was wearing a brightly-colored, uniquely-styled sports bra that an ex of mine also owned.  Naturally, I had also removed this same bra from my ex, and had some interesting thoughts running through my head in that instant.  Not wanting to spoil the moment, I managed to carry on as if nothing was amiss.  Needless to say (which is a phrase I hate hearing and hate using even more), I was a bit distracted by this revelation and proceeded to last a bit longer than I may otherwise have.  This was greeted with delighted and repeated satisfaction by my love.   Though I was not specifically imagining that I was having sex with my ex, thoughts of her were on my mind while my current and I were engaging.  I felt a little odd about this and thought I might share it with you, dearly beloved DIW community.  I cannot simply ignore it, as I am certain that one day soon she will wear this same bra as we begin seduction and the same situation will play out.  Not that it wasn't enjoyable for me to please my miss well, but the circumstances made me feel less than wholesome about it. Should I surreptitiously dispose of this undergarment and be done with it?  (Here I must add that my relationship with my ex was painful, tumultuous, passionate, all-consuming, and ultimately self-destructive.  In addition, my current has some irrational hang-ups about my ex, a person she has never met and whom I have nothing to do with.)  Please help, dear daters.

Yeah... About That...

The 34 Year Old Virgin

Hi, there.

No, we're not dead. Well, I'm not.

In fact, I'm a bit rage-y lately. That boy that turned me into the Southern Girlfriend? Let's just say things didn't work out and it was 100%, utterly, and completely of his doing. Oh, and remember the one I wrote an open letter to (who I've been calling Fuck You Guy)? He came back in the picture and is throwing my li'l heart for a loop. Anyway, there's a touch of background to why I'm about to share a story that sums up in a really mean thought. And yes, only a thought, because try as I might, I'm a good girl at heart.

Ahem.

A few years ago, I had recently broken up with my first real, long-term boyfriend. I had done the grieving (there wasn't a lot) and had gone on a few dates. I'd even spent some time out of town, but then returned to the big(ger) city. Upon my return, I met a guy at a party who was totally not my type, but I was so drunk I started holding his hand. Things just happen sometimes, right? Anyway, he was a gentleman and drove me home, making zero moves. I promptly forgot about him.

A few weeks later, I get a text from him. Turns out that a friend of a friend had given him my number, and he thought I was cute. I was flattered, and agreed to go out with him, even though I wasn't sure whether I wanted anything to happen. This one time turned into a few times, and I got to know him more. Turns out that he's what we non-churchgoers of the bible belt call a Super Christian. Along with weekly church services, little to no drinking or swearing, and general goodness, most Super Christians also believe in abstaining from sex until marriage. That's right - I was dating a guy who was a 34 year old virgin.

I didn't believe it at first. I mean, really? So I dropped some hint-y questions. He never said, "Yes, I'm a virgin," but he also never said that he wasn't, either. One night, things got hotter and heavier than usual, and he asked if I wanted to go to the bedroom. I was curious, so I went for it. The heavy petting continued, and he started to awkwardly undress me. All the while, my mind was racing - "Has he done this before? It's pretty awkward. What would Jesus do?" All I could muster was to ask, "I thought you were a good boy. Are you sure you want to do this?" And he jumped up, ran to his dresser, and grabbed a brand spanking new box of condoms. In response, he said, "Would a good boy have these?" In my mind, I thought, "Why, yes, yes a good boy would have a box of condoms that he bought roughly 6 hours ago," but my mouth played along and said, "No, I suppose not."

Anyway, things kept going, and if you've ever stolen someone's innocence, you can guess how bad it was. He placed himself very much in charge and was not open to any suggestions. My comfort and pleasure were not important, and there was only one goal in his little mind. It became more and more apparent that he was, indeed, a good boy. Once his mission was accomplished, I got dressed and left. We kept in touch, but just barely.

Here's the part that I love, though. To everyone else he's ever met, he's still a virgin. To his fiancée, he's a virgin that will be giving himself to her on their wedding night. To his friends, he's as pure as the driven snow. I have friends who are married to his best friends, so I know the truth of this to a very comfortable degree.

Knowing that he's harboring this sinful secret, I really, really, really want to tell someone. The ultimate fun would be showing up at his wedding and speaking up instead of holding my peace. But really, in the society of this little corner of the word, I'd ruin his life and end his marriage before it started. Instead, then, I'll bite my tongue and keep my dirty secret. My uncomfortable, zero fun, sinful little secret.

HAPPY DATING!

The Martyr Syndrome

This post may be a bit of a vent, but hopefully some of you can sympathize and/or back me up on this.

Do you have friends, family, coworkers, or whoevers that just LOVE to be the ones that are put out? They'll stand because someone might possibly want that empty chair; they'll ask for something and then complain when they finally get it; their favorite phrase seems to be "No, really, I'm fine. It's not that bad."

I have a friend like this. She's the friend that ended up in our "group," and she never quite got completely eased out. Her life is so rough, as demonstrated by the following email excerpt:

We're getting married in the fall. I'm actually finishing up save-the-dates,now. It's both nice having him here, and irritating at times. As excited as I was, for the first time in several years I've got no personal space or "alone time" which will take some adjustment.  He's selling cars in a nearby town, which causes me a lot of stress too.  However, it's a job and all I told him was find a job so he did just that.

Let us examine this statement. Her fiance moved across five states to be with her, but now she doesn't have enough personal time. She TOLD him to get a job, but doesn't like his job. She has everything she's asked for - nay, demanded - but it's never enough. Evident in this is the total control of the martyr. Their ability to complain is based on the fact that they control so much in their lives.

AND THEN THEY BITCH.

How does one handle this? Laying down the law doesn't seem to help - it just fuels their "woe is me" fire. One can try to prevent indulging their whims, but that's usually easier said than done.

Have you dealt with someone like this? How did you deal?

The Southern Girlfriend

I may be Southern, but I'm one'a dem progressive Southerners.  Ya know, a pro-choice, pro-gay rights, Obama-sticker-toting, severely-lapsed Christian, progressive Southern. I thought I knew SO much about the world and was just too cool for my little red state. While these things may be true (hehe), my adventures with these West Coaster DIW girls have taught me something - I'll always be a Southerner. And really, that's okay. I'll have manners, respect, domestic skills, high expectations, and other pros and cons that we're prone to. However, as the sweet Serial Monogamist recently pointed out to me, I'm also a Southern Girlfriend.

Southern Girlfriend noun : A female from the Southern United States who, once in a monogamous relationship, shows a different side of her personality that exaggerates any tendencies toward bossiness, neediness, and short tempers.

I will admit that when SM called me this, it was kind of a shock. In fact, I was a mite offended once I realized what she was saying. I'd never heard this term, and I suspect she made it up, but I get it. I'd been snuggling with my dude after a hard day, letting him dote on me, and drinking it up. But in the meantime, I'd made sure he'd called his mother. And then I made sure he washed his hands before dinner (In fairness, he'd been rubbing my feet.). And then I used a baby voice for no apparent reason. And then I asked him to get me a drink. And then I pouted when he said something negative. And then I asked him to do something that I should've gotten up and done myself.

WHO AM I? What kind of person does this? Especially a person like me who never asks for help! This is the same boyfriend who I wouldn't let drive me (four hours) to the airport, and fussed at me for never asking for assistance. And SM was the one who told me that I should let my wonderful boyfriend do sweet things for me. So, is it the big shit that I'm against, but I can revel in the little things? Is it harder to say "no" in person?

Regardless, here's the great part of being Southern - if you find a Southern boy, he expects a strong woman and knows how to please her. Southern folks come from strong Southern mommas who rear great Southern men (and women). We like to be handy and helpful and to make others happy. I would argue that we really do have the last bastions of gentlemen and ladies who would do anything for the ones we love, and a hell of a lot even for a stranger on the street. Don't believe me? Ask SM - she fell hook, line, and sinker for a handsome, blue-eyed boy with a sweet Southern accent and a heart that will do anything for her. And his momma.

Blondie and the hottie from the gym

** Today we have a guest post from Blondie, who has agreed to share some of her dating adventures in the city. Like some people we know (ahem) Blondie is enjoying a fairly fresh foray into singledom, making good use of the wonders and joys of the Internet. ***

Friday night was supposed to be my dating night off. Thursday night I had been with a couple I see, and I had a date on Saturday with a guy I've been seeing for a little while - so Friday I was going relax and give my "body" a rest.

I ended up going out to the bars with a couple friends. The plan was just to have a beer or two, go home and watch a movie. Well, I get to the bar and we hang out a bit and I realize that this guy who I've had a massive crush on at the gym is there. Not some guy I've seen - but a hot 6 foot 7 inch tall basketball player I've been watching while I cool down on the track for the last 5 years.

I tell my friend the story and he talks me into talking to the guy. Long story short - I talk to him and end up going home with him that night. Yep - I got to sleep with my gym crush. But that's not all.

Side note - this gym guy ends up not being very bright. It was an interesting situation for me - I felt like one of those guys who sleeps with hot dumb chicks. While we were hanging out post sex, I was found myself having an internal debate about hotness vs. intellect. Does his hotness make up for lack of smarts? Would I ever dare bring this guy around my friends? Would I be comfortable keeping a guy around for sex just because he was hot, even if he wasn't that interesting to talk to? (I appreciate that this might make me sound like an asshole but I have smart friends and they would call me out on this.)

But, the sex is fun, I have a good time. And, oddly, after sex, he hung out completely naked until I left. He was up walking around, doing all kinds of things. I thought it was cool how comfortable he was, most guys throw on a pair of boxers or something. Though I guess I could have done without him leaving the door open and looking at and speaking to me while he pissed.

As we're hanging out afterwards, he asks if I want to spend the night. I say no because, quite frankly, his apartment was kind of a shit-hole. I don't quite understand how a 32-year-old guy with a professional-type job could live like that. Anyway, I say no thanks and go home at about 3:30am or so. When I got home, I sent him a text saying I made it home safely. He didn't text back until the next day, but this is the conversation:

Me - I made it home safely.

Him - Who is this?

Me - Uh ... Blondie. The girl you slept with last night.

Him - Haha, no seriously, who is this?

Me - I am serious. Don't you remember?

Him - I'm in Seattle with my fiance. I think you have the wrong number

Me - HA! You're right. Wrong number. That's hilarious.

Well.

It turns out that I don't have the right phone number for this guy. He just gave me his number, I didn't give him mine. So now, not only did I hook up with the hot dumb guy, but I'm the one who never called again. Part of me feels a tad bad about that, but part of me thinks it's a little funny, if a bit of a bummer because I would like the option of sleeping with him again ... but c'est la vie.