those 3 little words..

I was head over heels.  I had found him.  The guy that made my heart race.  My mind fuzzy.  My stomach do flip flops.

We had been dating for a while.  Plans were made for The Holidays.  We spent a perfect amount of time together.  Not too much.  Not too little.

I laughed more, smiled more, skipped more.  Because. Of. Him.

It was my first 'love'.  I knew it.  We were going to be together.  Forever.  I had found my King.  I was certain.  I couldn't wait to hear it out of his mouth.  I love you.  I just wanted him to say it first so I could say it back.

We were out with friends.  He liked to drink.  A lot.  Later I realized too much. 

He got that look in his eye.  Or, that one eye.  The one that got smaller and squintier.  The look that I knew meant the proverbial 'other shoe' may drop.  He was slurring his words when he was telling me how much he liked me.  He was so happy I was in his life.  He couldn't imagine being with anyone but me.  The moment he saw me it was like a circle of light was surrounding me. He was drawn to me in that very first moment and could never let me go.

I knew it was coming.  He was going to say those 3 little words I had been waiting to hear for  SOOO   LOOONG.  To profess his unwavering love for me.   It was on the tip of his tongue.  I stopped breathing waiting for him to whisper it in my ear.

"I slub you"  he says.

He was trashed. 

And, he slubbed me. 

I felt like the unluckiest girl in the world.  My boyfriend slubbed me.  I wanted him to take it back.  I wanted to cry.  Who wants to hear for the first time that their boyfriend 'slubs' them?  Where was I love you? 

Gone.  Gone about 8 gins ago.  That's where it was.  He slubbed gin too. 

My Dating misAdventures Entry # 2

A friend set us up.  On paper he was AMAZING.

Tall.  Love it!

VP of Marketing for a major sports team.  Smart and Savvy.

Dark Hair.  *swoon*

Christian.  My mom would approve.



CC By Eric Heath

We talked and agreed to meet on Saturday night.  He suggested the Top of the Mark. 

I knew nothing about the Top of the Mark.  I wanted to wear jeans.  He said he would be wearing a suit.  He wanted to get dressed up. See you soon fancy man.

Enter blonde girl.  Tuxedos in the lobby.  I am totally underdressed in my heeled sandals, skirt and tank.  I should have worn a sequined ballgown.  Up top, I take in the glory of this elegant restaurant at the peak of the Mark Hopkins Intercontinental Hotel in San Francisco's Nob Hill. Apparently you go here to celebrate your 50th wedding anniversary. China.  Multiple forks and spoons.  Crystal.  Why not a pub with burgers and fries??

Over candlelight I drank wine with dinner.  He asked if I had been SAVED by Jesus.  I ordered another glass. I mean it's great to have a relationship with the big guy upstairs.  I have one, we talk.  However, date 1 may not the best time to bring it up. Let's have breezy conversation.  Flirt. Laugh. Share funny stories.  No need to go biblical.

He said and did some other odd things.  Kind of arrogant too.  We parted ways knowing we would never see each other again.  The car from the Mark Hopkins took me home.  Where was The Bachelor camera crew to film my tipsy commentary about my feelings toward the Jesus-loving sports exec?

Many months later I learned from the person who set us up that 1) she didn't know much about him and 2) at this exact same time he was trying to determine what to do about another female in his life.

Apparently they met at church.  Their lust and desire overtook them during bible study.  A one-night stand occurred. She was pregnant.  They weren't exactly sure what to do.

I think going out with me was a brilliant idea.  Do you sense the sarcasm in my voice?  Seriously?   Dude, you probably should have been attending to your knocked-up church friend.

Just Plane Inappropriate

I travel often.  I am not a 'road warrior' but I do have status which allows me great perks like access to exit row seats. 

I am also tall, for a lady.  And, taller than many men.  Which drains my dating pool.  Significantly.  This is another post.  But, just a second.  Seriously, it stinks.  I am doing the online dating thing and I rule out thousands of men due to height alone.  Some are hot!  Reminds me of a guy from college my friends and I used to call 'would be hot if tall'.  I don't think we ever called him this to his face.  Well, maybe once, after spending too many hours enjoying Penny Pitchers.   

Anyway, I digress.  Back to the original story... I am also tall, for a lady.  So, I really appreciate when I secure the exit row aisle seat.  I'll take an exit window or an exit center if necessary.  But the aisle is hitting the airplane seat assignment jackpot!!

On my recent trip to the islands I secured the exit row.  But, it was the window seat.  Okay, not ideal, but definitely better than a standard row where my knees are always at risk for being knocked around when someone in front of me decides to recline to rest.  Then I have to uncross my legs because I am never prepared and I always knock them back.  They think I am a bitch.  And, in the spirit of honesty since it is Sunday, sometimes I knock a little harder if I am annoyed that they flopped back during the recline and jarred my computer.

Moving on. 

So, my seatmates were a young couple in love.  They were lost in eachother's eyes.  Holding hands.  Maybe it was a honeymoon trip.  It was kind of sweet and kind of annoying.

We take off and the girl decides its time to get comfortable.     So, she takes off her shoes.  Really?  I think this is totally inappropriate on the plane.  Now, it could be worse, she could be clipping her fingernails or eating chicken off the bone straight out of a ziploc baggie.  I've seen both.  But, shoe removal on the plane is bad and one of my pet peeves.




What if I was terrified of feet?  Or, what if her feet smelled?  You don't always realize it.  And, she was wearing inexpensive pleather ballet flats which is a prime way to achieve foot smell.  Not knocking them.  Have several pair.  Also carry baby powder when I wear mine to avoid the foot sweats.




Anyway, her feet are pointed in my direction for a bit.  Then she starts to shift.  And, then she gets really comfortable.  Like, laying-around-the-house-watching-tv comfortable.  She just up and throws her un-shoed feet and legs over her main squeeze's lap.  Awesome, I've just crashed date night. 

Seriously?  Is this your living room?  Are we on your couch?  In your gingerbread house?  I would bet that she doesn't do that at a dinner party when she is kindly waiting for dessert to be served.  Or, in a hotel lobby.  Or, in the Dr's office waiting room. Or, at her in-laws house before she really got to know them. So, why on earth 17E is it okay to do it on the plane?


Take your legs off your husband, shoeless wonder.  Put your darling ballet flats back on.  Stop cuddling so that in the event of an emergency you will be willing and ABLE to assist the flight crew.  Bare feet are just plane plain inappropriate!

Counting My Blessings

I took a little blogging break as I was resting, relaxing, shopping, sunning and watching some hoops in the Virgin Islands over Thanksgiving.  The Littlest was playing in an islands tournament and so our family hopped a few planes to celebrate one of my most favorite holidays beachside.

 

Over the last month I've seen Facebook friends posting daily about all of things that have made their Thankful lists. I didn't partake in this trend but decided that on the last day of the month I'd jot down all of things I am blessed by and with.  Efficiency.  30 days of something I'm thankful for in one list, one post.  Done.  Read on.  And, this is not in order of least to most thankful or vice versa so don't be insulted if you aren't number 1.

          

My Blessings

1) Laughter (side-splitting, eyes watering, out loud laughter)

2) Kindness (in heart and mind)

3) La Famiglia (both sides and the 'family' that is not even biologically tied)

4) Sunshine

5) My pooch, Sam (although sometimes I want to send him off with the Gypsy's)

6) Girlfriends (enough said)

7) Baubles (bracelets, diamonds, cheap costume plastic stuff, heirlooms)

8) Ice Cream (Ben & Jerry's Phish Food in particular)

9) Bond No. 5 Nuit de Noho

10) Beaches (sand, turquoise water, sunshine, palm trees, Bette Midler)

11) Crushes (and the butterflies that come with them)

12) My trusty Volvo

13) Xanax (the calm that overcomes the storm)

14) Seashells (junonia's, jewels of the sea, catpaws, conchs, tulips)

15) Open Windows

16) Chardonnay (Rombauer is at the top of the list)

17) Gossip Magazines (and the trash they talk)

18) Grandparent memories (old spice, tab, velcro rollers, pontoon boats)

19) Church Hopping

20) Mani-Pedi's (and the Vietnamese women who are really good at doing them)

21) Wi-Fi and data plans

22) Sunroof - Moonroof (toe-may-toe, toe-mah-toe)

23) Post-It's (thank you Romy & Michelle or maybe 3M)

24) Good reads (bound or nook)

25) Hand Lotion (Kiehls, l'occitane, love+toast, Archipelago)

26) Mentors (you know who you are)

27) Frequent flyer miles and hotel status (Thank you AA and Marriott)

28) Coca Cola (diet, zero, caffeine free and just plain ol' Coca Cola in the red can)

29) Old Sweatshirts (one GAP gray one that I love to wear inside out)

30) Gluten free cookies (who am I kidding, gluten free everything)
 

 

My Dating misAdventures Entry #1

I've gone on a few dates in my day.  Some wonderful. Some not so wonderful.  All good stories.

My friends get a good laugh at my dating adventures.  They ask when I have good ones.  Awkward ones.  Funny ones.  Short ones.  Tall ones.  Sad ones.  Bad ones.  I sound like Seuss. 




CC Trevor Hurlbut Aug. 28, 2010

Anyway, considering I am a single 35 year old, I've had a decent dating experience.  Many crushes.  Many good-byes.  A few boyfriends.  A couple of loves.  And, an occasional mistake (or two).

I've decided that you, too, may enjoy some of my dating misadventures. 


My first 'real' date.  He asked me out. A few days in advance.   That's apparently all it takes.

He was in college.  I was in high school.  I guess I've always had a thing for older men.

He was going to take me to House Decs.  We would walk around Greek Town and admire all of the decorations and skits each of the sororities and frats had conjured up in the grand spirit of Homecoming.  I was sure we would hold hands.

He picked me up.  There was no plan other than house decs.  Of course.   He was a freshman in college.   He drove through Taco Bell because he was hungry.  I didn't order anything.  I don't know that he asked if I wanted anything.  Not even a burrito.  I didn't want to hold his hand anymore.

House Decs?  Good.   The 'date'?  Really lame.  

There you have it.  My first real date.  I was completely disappointed. I called my girlfriends and complained.  At least that part of the 'date' went well..  Rehashed the whole thing with my girlfriends.  They told me he wasn't good enough.  I deserved better.  Exactly what girlfriends are supposed to do after a bad date.  The pattern was established.

Now, you'd think that any guy who took me on a date since then would score an A because the first one set the bar SO low.

Wrong.  I have high standards.  He was just the tip of the dating iceberg. 

Now, don't get me wrong there are some good ones. And, my girlfriends hear about those too. And, encourage me and tell me how excited they are and how great he sounds and when are you going out again??  We oooh and awww over those. 

But, there are many really bad ones.  And, honestly, those are the funniest.  And, make for the best stories.  And, the most laughter.  So that's what you will find the most of on this blog.  There may be a sweet one in there occasionally. And, just like in dating, it's the occasional sweet one that keeps you coming back for more.

Naked People

There are many different types of people in the world.  Skinny, Tall,  Brown-Haired, Muscular, Chunky, Blue-Eyed, Petite..I could go on. 

There are also two very distinctive people - Naked People and Not Naked People.

The Naked Cowboy likely only wears underwear to avoid the NYC slammer.  He has made good money off of his nakedness.  Clearly he is a Naked Person.  Probably everyday.  Probably all of the time.

I am a Not Naked Person. I don't walk around the house naked. I don't dry my hair naked. Nothing. I did not grow up in a Naked House. We wore clothes. Always. I don't have anything against Naked People. I am just not one of them. So, their nakedness is sometimes surprising.

I dated a Naked Person once.  I found him sitting naked on the couch and felt so bad for every other person who would ever sit on that couch again. Yuck! This happened a few times and every time I was like 'put some freaking shorts on'...Sheesh. 

I also had a Naked Person as a roommate.  One night our home phone started screaming at 2am.  We were in our 20's.  This was not abnormal.  We both came running out of our rooms. I, clothed head to toe, in yoga pants, a long sleeve shirt and a sweatshirt.  It was winter.  She, on the other hand, was naked.  Totally naked. Not even jewelry naked. We stared at the phone, looked at each other, laughed and went back to our respective Not Naked and Naked Rooms.

You are either a Naked Person or a Not Naked Person.  There is no in-between.  The Naked Ex sometimes also cooked naked.  Breakfast.  Really.  Nothing like a full moon when you walk into the kitchen on a Sunday morning.

Who do you think you are, Kim Kardashian?

Since I was writing about ending my last relationship the other day I started thinking about The BreakUp.

One of my favorite comments he threw at me:  "Who do you think you are, Kim Kardashian"?

Really?  Kim Kardashian?  Did he really say that? We don't look alike.  At all. Except that I have a generously sized derriere. That we have in common.

I am laughing just thinking about it. "Who do you think you are, Kim Kardashian"? Howling, in fact. Tears in eyes laughing. That is absurd.

I think I had actually forgotten about this gem of a moment until Halloween when I wrote about The BreakUp in the exceptionally funny post Ruby Red Lipstick: Anniversary Edition. Yes, I sometimes think I am funny.  I laugh at my own blogs.  Narcissistic, I know.

I love Kim K.  She makes me laugh.  She is glamorous and ridiculous and keeping up with her makes for great DVR.  Her family is amazing!  I laugh out loud at their antics and dysFUNction!  As much as I enjoy their shows and the entire Kardashian - Jenner family, I have no idea why on earth he thought that I thought that I was Kim Kardashian.


CC BY Holywood Branded, Inc.

And, know that when I say dysFUNction it is with complete love and adoration.  My father always said that our family puts the FUN in dysfunctional.  Total term of endearment. My love to the Kardashian-Jenners.  They add the FUN too.

Anyway, around that same time last year, Kim decided to end her relationship with Kris Humphries (Hump to you Kardash fans). In fact, I do believe her divorce filing was on October 31st of Twenty-Eleven.  The same day of The BreakUp.  Google confirmed. 

Apparently my ex was keenly aware of this and felt that me ending my bad relationship on Halloween was akin to Kim ending hers.  I didn't understand the comparison then and I don't understand it now.

Regardless, here's to you Kim Kardashian!  It seems that you are much happier one year later.  Me too!

Girlfriends Bible

I committed a Cardinal Sin as listed in the Girlfriends Bible.

During a recent Girls Weekend I invited a guy to come and meet us out. He asked what we were doing. So I told him. And then added in a "Come meet us"!

I never. In a million years. Thought he would do it. Seriously. I totally thought I would call his bluff. He is not my boyfriend. We are not dating. We occasionally talk. And, occasionally text. Occasionally we get together for wine and witty conversation. And, I occasionally have a bit of a crush.

Anyway, he strolled right into the bar and pulled up a chair and spent an hour chatting with us. Bought our drinks. Made us laugh. Smelled good too.

Sorry girls, I know that this is a M A J O R no-no. Inviting a guy to any part of a girls weekend is sacrilegious. It might even be one of the biggest Girlfriend no-no's. Of. All. Time.

This was sacred girls time. Time to talk about girl things. Time to laugh at our pasts and our presents. Time to tell embarrassing stories. Time for emotionally bonding girl behavior. Time to do stuff you can't or don't want to do when male friends, boyfriends, husbands, daters, sons, lovers, whatever are around because it takes away from the girlieness.

Fortunately, I have the coolest, most understanding girlfriends. In. The. World.

To my ladies:
Thank you for letting me flirt during our girls weekend.
Thank you for not judging, condemning or banishing me from the festivities.
Thank you for not laughing out loud when I was batting my fake eyelashes at his cute face.

I shall repent with 3 Hail Mary's. And, one Our Father for good measure.   Amen.





CC Jess Pac

Ruby Red Lipstick: Anniversary Edition

I am single.  I have been for a year now.  To the day. 

Yes, I dumped my ex on Halloween of last year.  He applied for a car loan in my name.  For a Range Rover.  When he was unemployed.  Really?

He did a handful of other things that really crossed the line and my forgiveness had just run out.  So, I came home mid-day and told him it was over.  I didn't cry.  I just felt an incredible sense of Peace.  Even when he called me every nasty word you can think of to refer to a woman or her body. Or, when in the middle of The BreakUp he changed his relationship status on Facebook to 'single'.  Who does that?  Peaceful the whole time. Seriously.

That peaceful easy feeling lasted for about 14 hrs.  Then, I woke up and I felt terrible.  And, I felt great.  And, I felt sad.  And, I felt happy. And, I felt relief. And, I felt lost.  And, I felt found.

For a while it was a mix of these emotions but eventually I got over the ex and the relationship.  My friends were amazingly supportive through it all!  The best friends a girl could ask for.  Xanax also helped. So did wine.  Sometimes too much.  But never too much of both at the same time. I even called the Walgreen's pharmacist a few times to be sure my time between the sedatives and the wine was enough. They think I am completely nuts. Safety first.

I think the 'tipping point' in my 'moving on' was when me and my Ruby Red Lips found him at a pizza place.  No, I didn't smooch him. YUCK! I seriously just gagged a little.  I did however try to play nice.  Until he asked me to do him a favor. 

 Him: Liz, could you do me a favor?
 Me: Sure, what's that?  (me trying to play nice)
 Him:  Lay off the red lipstick?

Seriously?  Who says that?  Lay off the red lipstick?  Really?

Whatever.  Like he had any right to comment on my appearance or my make-up selection. Who did he think he was?

I love me some red lipstick.  Here is one of my favorite pics of me rockin' red lips. I get that the picture is a bit crazy. Cray-Zee is totally why I love it.

Whenever I put on the red lipstick I am empowered, strong, beautiful and confident.  Actually I feel that way in pink lip gloss or when I wear chapstick too.  But, when I pop the cap off of the red I remember that moment and how good it felt to tell him

Me: Actually...I like it...so I'll probably keep wearing it. *smug smile*

Today, I am wearing red lipstick.  And, I feel Great.  Happy and Healthy. Peaceful and Pretty.  Sassy and Sophisticated.  And, I don't have a Range Rover in my driveway.  And, even better, he doesn't have one in his.