Body Count on the Rise

So a few people have asked me to write about what I think about body count and your date, SO, fwb asking about it.

The topic stemmed from this guy, The Barber, asking me about my number. Here’s the story: So, me and The Barber were dating for a few months and about two months in we finally decided to do it. About a day later it apparently donned on him to ask me how many people I’ve had sex with. I lied, because well duh. I picked a relatively tame number- one that if I heard I’d be completely content with. He was not having it. I then asked how many people he’s been with, not because I care but because if you’re going to ask me I’m going to ask you, and he says “I don’t know but it’s less than that. Anyway, that’s __ dicks in you. That’s gross. Not to mention I’ve never had sex with a girl who’s had sex with black guys before.” The end of that statement is another story, but WTF. You’re going to ask me, pretend to be disgusted, yet you don’t even know what your own number is. OH okay. -___- 

Here’s my take. Who cares? Like really, who cares and why does it matter? Unless you’re both virgins, you’ve already ruined the sanctity of marriage so you can’t even use that excuse with me. I just think the whole premise of the question is unnecessary. You’re not asking because you just want to know. You’re asking because you’re trying to gauge on a scale of 1-10 how slutty the other person is. And that’s all subjective. Also, everybody lies about it. I have yet to meet anyone that says they actually tell the truth. So again, who cares?

Yes, STDs are a real thing. But it only takes one person to catch one. As long as you know the other person got checked and there’s nothing shady happening there, what. does. it matter? Does how many people the other person have sex with have a bearing on how you feel about them as a person? Again, if you’re not a virgin, you’ve already lost the moral victory.

In conclusion (Cher from Clueless voice), stop being so fucking nosy. You don’t need to know everything about the other person’s past. All you need to know is that he or she has a clean record and focus on the other factors of the relationship.

 

love and the Nice Guy

So after taking a dating hiatus for a few months, I went on my first date in awhile this week. I was really excited about it because Construction Man is really nice and was doing all the right things- phone calls, being considerate, not getting out of line, etc. One evening we were on the phone for about an hour, and he asked me if I was up for going to see a movie (The Conjuring) that night. I was feeling a little spontaneous, so I put on some clothes and headed out the door.

I was pretty excited to finally meet him. So, I pull up to the theater and waited for him to arrive. I saw him before he saw me, and I have to admit, I was a little less than thrilled. The man works in construction, so I’m not quite sure what I expected- no shade. The man has this long surfer-man hair that everyone out here on the coast sports, and was pretty sloppily dressed. We go in the theater and the man is talking throughout the movie and even whipped out his cell phone at one point. Also, I’m not sure if this is just me being an asshole, but I was also turned off by him ordering a large coke and drinking it all in 20 minutes. To me, the combination of the above shows a lack of care in regards to how you look and to your health. I was unimpressed, to say the least.

BUT HE’S NICE and he likes me. And I’m just struggling with why it seems like all the nice guys just aren’t for me. This isn’t the first “nice guy” that I’ve gone out on a date with, just to realize that I am un-attracted for whatever reason. I know that this isn’t necessarily my fault, but Jesus.

At what point do you stop being attracted to/wanting the cute ones who have nothing to offer and go for the ones that don’t make your panties wet, but are going to treat you how you should be treated? Does the attraction grow? Do you learn to love the things that you see in them, and forget about the rest?

I’m going to test that theory. lol. I’m not ready to just give up on him because he doesn’t excite me and I’m willing to give him a second chance, because maybe I’m being too judgmental. But am I being honest with myself? Granted, just because he’s nice, I already know that he doesn’t have a lot of the qualities that I look for in a man. I’m just wondering if my standards are unrealistic…

I got home and told Kat that I really, really want a man in a suit. Someone who can hold a conversation, went to college, dresses nicely, treats me the way I should be treated AND attractive. I know that that’s out there, I’m praying that it’s out there for me, and I’m not ready to settle for less than what I want just yet. But maybe I should?

At what point do you settle for the things you want in a man, but let the rest go?Should you never settle? I mean, really never settle. Is that realistic? Is there truly someone for everyone? I’ll let you know.

 

… & the Pursuit of Happiness

Over the course of the last few weeks there has been a resounding thought in my head: Maybe I should move back to Florida.

That’s a thought I surprisingly never thought I would have, yet here I am. Don’t get me wrong, I love California. Been coming here my entire life and it’d be hard to return to the land of rednecks, Repuclibans, no Famer’s Markets, no recycling, and monotony. But it’s home. It’s where I have friends, where I know what’s coming, where there are people to catch me when I fall. It’s home to some of the world’s most beautiful beaches- which I miss every single summer.

I don’t know if what I’m feeling classifies as a “Quarter Life Crisis,” but I feel like it does. I planned to leave this small town on the CenCoast ever since I got here- but this time the drive feels different. I feel defeated. I feel like going home is the only way out. I feel really, really alone. I’ve felt alone ever since I got here- but this time it’s different. Before, I had hope. I’d get determined- save money like crazy and simultaneously job search like crazy. The job search thing would be the biggest pain of them all. Applying to at least 10 jobs every single day for MONTHS. Go on several interviews, third, fourth, and fifth round interviews, only to get the dreaded email. Even after the last let down, I still blazed on. I was satisfied with the money I had saved and seriously contemplated just quitting my current job and moving.

But then the arrest happened. I was forced to no longer consider moving and had to drain my savings. I’m now back to square one without so much as a glimmer of a hope of when I can begin saving again or look for jobs elsewhere. And let’s face it, I was beginning to feel like I should just give up- as if this is where I’m going to stay and won’t ever be able to find something else.

So I tried making friends again. I tried dating again. And no matter what I do, both have been elusive. And now, I’m tired. I’m tired of only being able to have a friendly interaction through a telephone. I’m tired of going on dates with guys only to never hear from them again. I’m tired of having meaningless sex. I’m tired of living here. I’m tired of not being able to make the next big move in my career. I’m tired of being broke. I’m tired of being alone. I’m tired of drinking/taking Nyquil at night to sleep. I’m tired of getting the courage to put myself out there, only to be let down. I’m tired of letting myself down. I’m tired of beating myself up. I’m tired of not knowing what I should do next. I’m just.fucking.tired.

And so now, I’m thinking about just throwing in the towel, admitting that I’m a faliure, and moving home. I’m thinking about doing something I’d said I’d never do, something I really don’t want to do… all for the sake of not feeling alone all the time.

Growing up, I had such big plans for myself. I used to tell people, in all sincerity, that “I’m meant for greatness.” I even believed this up until April. Up until the job I interviewed with 4 fucking times told me they went with the other candidate. And then I got arrested, and I believed it even less. Then I got rejected several times by various people, and I felt it even less than before.

I know, and believe, that everything happens for a reason. There has been more than one instance in my life where I thought I was going through hell, only to make it to the other side, and everything made sense. I keep reminding myself of this now, but I don’t know why it doesn’t seem like the grass will ever get greener. I wish I could just see the pieces starting to fit together, one by one. But instead of fitting together it feels like the pieces keep getting lost. I guess the resounding answer is to keep the faith. And when it feels like things can’t get any worse is when you need to remember that the most. “When you’re going through hell- keep going,” right? 

I trust that eventually, all of this will make sense. Be a chapter in the novel of my life, one that I look back on fondly and remember that I really am a strong woman. I just hope that “eventually” starts showing its head soon. Hope.

I know that everyone has their own personal struggles, and that what feels like a low point to me is a high point to someone else. I know that. But this is my struggle. I’m ready to feel appreciated in all faucets of my life, to feel loved by the people around me- shit, to have people around me, to feel happy with myself. I just want to be happy.

 

Plenty of Shenanigans *The Remix

So after being off of POf for a few months, I had a true moment of weakness and boredom, and I decided it was time to log in again. These are my stories from the last 3 weeks (yes, three) :

My first date since the hiatus was with a 22 year old college student with a really nice bod. We’ll call him Polish Man. Our first date we met up for a beer (A beer) and conversation was good and he’s really attractive. I chose to ignore the fact that he is still in college because he’s getting his Masters in something engineering related this summer. So first date goes well, he tells me at the end of it that this is the “best date” he’s had in awhile and we are subsequently already making plans for date #2. Date #2 with Polish man was pretty fun, we had a few beers at his place and then went out for Cinco de Mayo. The mistake here was going to his place at all.

First, let’s focus on him being in college. Which means that his place was a total college boy bachelor pad- complete with empty liquor bottles. This was my first warning sign and problem… After we went out, we end up back at his place where in between make out sessions, he proceeds to serenade me by playing Mumford and Sons on his guitar. Well, he is in college and we had been drinking, so we ended up doing it. My problem with this is that I didn’t even want to hook up with him and he knew that, but whatever, he is in college, so something had to give.

Fun fact about me: I rarely ever stay at a man’s house after doing it. And by stay, I mean I am typically dressed by the time he comes out of the bathroom. This day was no different. So I leave, and when I get home we’re snap chatting, yada yada and make plans for our next outing. On the 3rd date we planned on going to the local farmer’s market (my kind of party). He texts me a few days prior and says that he wants to go on this night time diving trip and it’s on the same night we’re supposed to go out. That’s cool, we can just reschedule. So we make plans do get dinner and play some pool on another evening. Said night rolls around and Polish man “didn’t realize” that we were going to dinner. Ok, even though I am starving, I can deal with this. So we go play some pool and end up back at my place. Some making out and a little bit of lovin ensues, and now he’s the one running out of my place. I get a text not to long after he leaves informing me that “I’m cool” and that he wants to continue to date me, however, “You’re just not the one I want to marry and spend my life with.”

Pause. What? lol. The funniest thing to me about this is that a) I got kind of dumped by a college student and b) what college student says that?… I’m not sure if it was the sex too soon, me as a person, or if he really is looking for “the one.” But let me tell you, this short-lived experience seriously taught me that I have no business dating college kids. None.

Literally the next day I had a date with The Barber. I’m stilll seeing this guy, so I’ll spare the crazy details, but I kind of like him. He’s nice, considerate, owns his own business, and I like the way he treats me. The jury is still out on this one, but we’ll see. I definitely don’t see this one as my next serious relationship, but he’s fun for right now.   

Then came The Marine. I show up to the restaurant, and he is already sitting at the table. Doesn’t get up to greet me, so I’m already thinking this one is rude. He then proceeds to check his phone rigourously throughout the evening and mainly talked about his new job at a local vineyard like I give two shits. This is wine country, every one is in the wine biz. Well The Marine is from VA, so somehow we get on the subject of VA not being part of the South. He then proceeds to lecture me and tell me I need to brush up on my history because VA was the capital of the Confederacy during the Civil War. -___-

Listen, I don’t give a fuck who you are or where you come from, but Virginia is not the South. I don’t care what Civil War battles happened there, that is not the South. The only thing that really matters about the Civil War is the freeing of the slaves, so idk why you’re touting around this useless knowledge either…. The date ended not too long after this and, dun dun dun, he let me pay. Sooo, needless to say I will not and have not talked to him since.  

Then I went out with another 22 year old, hahaha, who just moved here. And he is a nice young man, but my last 22 year old experience ruined me. It was a typical have a beer/ meet up, and we’ve spoken since, but haven’t seen each other. Which is fine by me.

My last stop on the dating roller coaster was with The Mormon.  I didn’t go out with him knowing that he is Mormon. Not that that should matter, however, it does matter and everybody knows it. So, we’re messaging on POF and he asks me out so I’m like sure and we exchange numbers. First he asked me to go hiking and then get some food. Which isn’t unusual on the coast, but I’m not hiking with someone I don’t know, so I suggest we just get food. Red Flag 1) He agrees to food, but then asks me if I’d want to go night time golfing. I’m like ok, let’s see how the night goes but that sounds fun. He then lets me know that we have to jump the fence…

He really truly thought that asking someone to break the law on a first date was acceptable. I told him that’s not happening. Next day, he asks if I like to dance. Then asks me if I’m interested in going country swing dancing as a double date with his friend. This prompted me to ask the question “Is there something wrong with just going to dinner? lol”

So Saturday arrives and I’m thinking of cancelling all day, but I don’t. I get to the restaurant and order a beer. He orders a coke. “That’s odd,” I say to myself but keep it moving. He then orders a glass of milk with his pizza, and now I know it’s not going to work out because I don’t trust people who don’t drink. Somehow admist our boring conversation, he lets me know that he is indeed Mormon- which is why he doesn’t drink. We also somehow get on the subject of school and he let’s me know that his GPA was like a 2.something in college. Soo, you mean to tell me that you don’t drink and never have, but your grades were still abysmal?.. I thanked him for the evening, drove home, and proceeded to drink a few glasses of wine.

There’s a few other gentleman callers still waiting in the wings, but I think it’s time to shut down the POF for another few months. I don’t have the energy for this.

The thing I’ve realized this time around is that it really isn’t me and the great thing about these experiences is that it’s showing me what I don’t want in a man. And hey, that’s what it’s really all about, right?

 

Life Is A Game Of Chess

And I’ve been playing checkers.

A lot has happened in the past few months. Maybe not a lot- but some real eye opening shit. And I’ve realized that up until this point, I’ve been living freely and carelessly- basically without repercussions.

Soooo, drum roll please, I freaking got arrested and charged with a suspicion of a DUI. There’s a couple of comical things about this night: A) I didn’t even want to go out B) I only had a few beers and drank a glass of water before leaving the bar C) It was 10 p.m. D) My BAC was .08, which I now know means that I can literally only have one beer AND I wasn’t even buzzed and E) When they handcuffed and arrested me, I was in genuine shock.

Actually, I think I was in shock all the way up until I got home 5 hours later. Let me tell you, jail is not a fun place to be. Especially when you’re sober. I’ll spare my long night in jail- but long story short: it’s cold, you realize that you don’t have shit and therefor are forced to think about life, they take your damn shoes, they look at you like you’re a real asshole, and you get really thirsty.

Granted, I’m glad that this happened when it did and that I wasn’t hammered. Also, I seriously have learned my lesson and that won’t be happening again. I have never been so stressed out and worried in my life. That first few days, I cried.. A LOT. I hired a lawyer to represent me, and hopefully this situation will work out for the best. I’m just trying to mentally prepare myself for all of the legal fees, etc. that come with this bullshit. But I made a mistake, and I’m paying for it now. I think the worst part is that it feels like my family looks down on me. Me, the responsible one, fucked up. The interesting thing about this is that I have received so much support from my friends, but my family hasn’t really been there in the way of support. Which kind of sucks. I do feel a little abandoned, but whatever, I’m paying my price and I’ll be ok. At least I have my health, right?

So thanks to that, I’ve had to drain my savings account to pay for the lawyer and I’m not sure if my license will be suspended, so now I have to basically put my job search on hold. Honestly, I think out of all the repercussions- this one is probably the worst.

I’m not sure what God and the universe have in store for me, but clearly, moving away from here is not in the cards. lol. Every time I plan to leave, something happens. I was reading something online the other day that had this amazing quote, (paraphrasing) “All my life I was waiting for something- a new job, a change, to lose weight, something that when it happened, I could finally live my life. And then I realized, this is my life.”

Somehow through all of the turmoil of the last month, it donned on my that THIS IS MY LIFE. Given that revelation, I’m truly trying to stop and smell the roses a little more, but it is still surreal that this is happening and this is a chapter in the life of Kristen B.

Over the past few months, I have really been trying to improve every outlet of my life that I think needs it: job, city, dating, getting out more… But it seems like the harder I try, the more resistance I meet from, idk, the universe? Like, what is going on here?

Of course, my dating life is completely nonexistent. There was a little heartbreak a few months ago, some bad dates, and some really good ones. I told someone today, “It’s like Jesus is dangling a carrot in front of a rabbit.” lol. That’s honestly how I feel.

But the carrot analogy applies to everything. I go on several great interviews, and don’t get the job.. so not only can I not leave a job I hate, but now I can’t even move. I finally save up enough money to entertain the idea of just quitting and moving… then I get caught up in legal fees that won’t go away.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not blaming anyone but myself for the messes I’ve gotten myself in. I’m just wondering, what. is. the. plan. here? Yes, have faith. I have faith. I just don’t know why I’m supposed to be so tough. I’ve been through a lot over the past 25 years, and every time it feels like the momentum is building up- I get knocked back to square one.

It could always be worse though, and I’m thankful that it isn’t. I do still have a job, can pay my rent, and take care of myself. I can put food on my table, I can laugh, I’m healthy and able bodied.

I guess I can thank my lucky stars that I’ve made it this far, am relatively successful for my age, and up until now, have never once been in trouble. I always attributed that to being really blessed. I think I’ve just realized that life isn’t all sunshine and roses, and I’ve been playing checkers when I should have been playing chess.