One Headlight

First and foremost, let me preface this story with a disclaimer that I am in no way a shallow, snotty or egotistical person in ANY way. Nor am I a money grubbing woman looking for a sugar daddy (although how awesome would THAT be?!) Seriously, who wouldn't want a man throwing cash at you for the sole purpose of being their mate even if for a short time? You know as well as I do that we always joke about it and I have to wonder what I would do if propositioned as such....hmmmm. Now that I have gotten the disclaimer out of the way, onto the real reason it is titled "One Headlight".

As with most of the men that I date whether one date or multiple dates, I met this one on-line while doing a little man shopping one Sunday afternoon. Lately, that's all I had been doing was shopping for men, but at least it was much less expensive than a new pair of shoes or a great pair of jeans that make your ass look AMAZING! But I digress....lets call him "Neon". Now Neon and I did the usual chatting back and forth for a while and talked on the phone a few times before we agreed to meet for dinner. Meeting at a local restaurant where we both agreed was a mutual and safe meeting place (after all you can never be too careful or overly cautious), I was the last to arrive and that's exactly how I wanted it. Truth be told, the reason for that is in the event I walk in there and find myself in a pickle that I do not see ending positively, I have the advantage of being able to escape rather quickly. Not that I have had to do that, but I think its a must to plan for such an occurrence. Surprisingly though I was pleasantly surprised to have had really enjoyed myself, the company and conversation. He was my "type" whatever that "type" was at the moment. Once we parted ways, a second date was definitely in order. Good sign and no red flags!

Second date started with me having to make the arrangements for the time and location, I wasn't too thrilled about that, but whatever. At least take the time to put a little effort into it. Oh and I drove....even better. But prior to that whole me driving thing, he had to first get to my apartment and go from there. First of all, he was 2 hours late....2 HOURS LATE! Seriously? Yes....2 whole hours, 160 minutes, 7200 seconds late. It was supposed to start at 6, but 6 turned into 8. As I was talking to him on the phone and giving him the directions and "guiding" him into my apartment complex, we were talking back and forth about the area and he said "I think I am close to your place, I just passed the mailbox". Hmmm.....all I see at that moment is a car with what looks like one headlight out and its making a squeaking noise. "Great! I don't see you yet." "I just pulled into a parking spot." Oh.....okay....you are the vehicle with the one headlight, squeaky noise and the dry rotted car bra....okay. (Jeni, the co-writer also had a story of a car bra, see it happens everywhere!) Oh wow...unusual I thought for someone of such stature in the job they said they had. But hey, who am I too judge, right? So, as you can see, I had no problems driving to dinner.

While driving and making conversation, I noticed that he was extremely nervous, I mean bad! He claimed that he hadn't done this in awhile. He was so nervous that it made me uncomfortable. Bad sign...red flag. It was in this same conversation that I started asking about his job, what he did, etc. It was then that he revealed to me that what he said he was on the "profile" didn't quite match what he in actuality was. There is no way that his occupation could have topped the one guy I met who said he was a part time astronaut and foot model. Yep..that happened. Now I don't care what your job is, other than a part time astronaut and foot model or if you even have a job, or that you are in between jobs. Whatever...the point of that matter was that he led me to believe something that he truly wasn't. Essentially, he was claiming to be a CEO and turns out he was really the copier. He tried to pad his portfolio with stuff that didn't matter. I swear, this whole leading me on thing to believe something is really starting to piss me off. Bad!

Since I was the one driving, I had the advantage to end the date early. I took "Neon" back to my place and we just simply parted ways. As I watched him drive away with one headlight and squeak every time he went over a speed bump with a dry rotted car bra flapping in the wind, I just shook my head and thought about my standards. Maybe my standards of honesty and being yourself and following through are way too high. Then again I am not sure how much more honest you can be with one headlight.

With love and high beams on,

Sheri

Tiny Man with a big...."heart!"

The below real life date is a contribution by my friend Jackie! I am not sure, but I am pretty positive that this guy sounds like he is pretty classy......if by classy you mean a jerkoffasauresrex, then yes! I will expand later on what a jerkoffasauresrex is exactly.

So here I am a young girl all of 20 years old, living in my very first apartment on Hollywood Blvd, working for a very prominent music production company. I was hob nobbing with some of the biggest names in music and hoping that I could win myself a single, good looking music producer with my charm and good looks. One of my co-workers who was coincidentally my roommate decided to play matchmaker and set me up with a guy who she assured me was my type. My type as in, “you have tattoos and so does he,” apparently. Completely assured by her description of him, tattoos, nice car, music producer, never married, totally sweet, I agree to meet him. The next day he calls me and says, “One of the bands I am working on is playing at the club on Sunset, do you want to meet me there?” Now, up until this point my dating experience was restricted to high school long term boyfriends so needless to say I had no experience in the dating world. I didn’t know that meeting a guy at a club while a rock band was playing would not be conducive to actually talking and getting to know this person. But, of course I agree. I pulled up to the club 5 minutes early and walked up to the door where a silver back gorilla was guarding the doorway, arms crossed, “You on the list?” Huh? What list? “That’s a no, cover is $25” I'm sorry what?? Now I guess I should mention I'm in my cutest date outfit which included a skirt and sky high heels and its fall in Los Angeles, which means its about 50 degrees outside. I have no money to pay this guy and I am freezing. So I call my blind date who assures me he is 2 minutes away. 30 embarrassingly long minutes later he rolls up in his Chrystler PT CRUISER!!! That’s strike 2 buddy! First you’re a half hour late, second that is NOT a nice car! Then he steps out of the car. Now, I'm not sure if you have seen a PT Cruiser up close but they aren’t tall cars, and when he gets out his head barely comes up past the top of it! He is TINY. Yes, he has tattoos, and I'm not sure if he is nice yet but he is MINIATURE compared to me in my sky high heels. As he got closer I could see his face in the light. Bulging eyes, crooked and yellowing teeth and slicked back hair to cover the bald spot. He looked to be about 45 even though I was assured he was 28! Awesome, an ugly 45 yr old who drives a purple PT Cruiser. YES PURPLE!!!

Turns out, he was on the list and we are allowed behind that ever so mysterious velvet rope into the dankest club I have ever been in in my entire life. There is a band on the stage with a lead singer that is screaming into the microphone, groupies lining every inch of the floor and absolutely no seating accept at the bar which is currently packed with drunkards from end to end. So awesome. As we walk through the crowd he grabs my hand so I don’t get lost in the craziness. A sweet gesture but EXTREMELY embarrassing as people look over and see a mother being drug through the crowd by what looks like her 8 year old. At this point I know I am done with this guy. As we walk past the bar I notice he is going for a door with another burly and intimidating bouncer in front of it. Sweet! At least I get some VIP room out of this whole circus. We sit down and I say to myself, “Be nice, have a drink, then claim sleepiness.” So we order our drinks and start chatting. As we are talking I realize that he is not, at all, looking into my eyes. He is looking straight into my chest. Being straight forward I point out the location of my eyes to which he replies,” I'm sorry but you have the sweetest rack I have seen in a while and I'm getting a huge boner.” which he points out by tracing the shape of it on his leg. I swear to you it looked like he had stuffed eight gym socks in there! Sliding away from him and shouting “Oh My God!" he then proceeds to tell me how "real" what he just showed me was. STRIKES 3, 4, 5 and 6!!! I immediately ran as fast as I could out of that club. One, I don’t care how “real" it is and two, I have already been eye raped by you enough for one night, tiny little man!

Needless to say, I cried myself to sleep that night.

Thanks Jackie for your story! I am sad that you had to experience this yet so very happy that you did so we could hear about it!

With Love,

Sheri

Good Luck Chuck

Have you honestly ever known a woman to have met the man of her dreams or the possibility of finding the man of her dreams at a bar/club thingy? I can honestly say that I haven't. Now that's not to say that it isn't a possibility and I am sure there a number of justifiable cases out there that will no doubt prove me wrong in that assumption, HOWEVER, I am going off of my own stats here and will admit that every man that I have met at a club/bar thingy has been a real D-Bag. I honestly don't know why I even remotely think that I will find a man of the quality in which I desire there. Especially when its 1245 in the morning and all the ladies in attendance are usually a little more than tipsy, barely dressed and are hovering on a man whom they are hoping is the man of their dreams. Face it....we all think it. We all deep down hope that tonight could potentially be the night that we find the "one". Regardless of where we are or are going. Because lets face it, this is the best place and scene to meet a man, right?

As I have this momentary lapse of judgement and agree to meet a friend at one of these bar/club thingys, I walk into it fully knowing that I am just here to have fun, dance a little, have a drink or 2 and that's it! (Secretly on the inside though, I am desperately hoping that the "one" will be there). So, as we are chatting as girls do in the corner of the place scoping it out for any potential prospects and making ourselves be fully open to anyone that could possibly be the "one", my friend scopes out a prospect for me. "Oh, there you go Sheri, he's just your type!" I look over and at first glance am thinking, nope, I don't think so. Before I can spit the words out of my mouth to back my claim that he isn't such my type. She is doing the come hither finger motion. He looks at her and points at his chest and mouths "Me?" She shakes her head. As he strolls up, she says, "Hi, this is my friend Sheri." And then she proceeds to walk away. Son of a biscuit! Now I am engrossed in a conversation with this guy that is about 6 inches shorter than me, has slicked back hair with enough gel in it to have sustained the Jersey kids for a complete season and is dressed like a gang member from my high school. Dickie shorts that look like pants because they go down to his ankle, white T-shirt and good 'ol Chuck Taylors .

Wow! Converse? Interesting choice of clothing I must say for a bar/club thingy. As the conversation continues, it is quite evident that he is absurdly drunk. Why wouldn't he be really? But insanely enough he was speaking intelligently and telling me all the great things about himself. The usual deal. He is in the military, he is in charge of people, essentially he was showing off his portfolio. The best of the best. Now I never put myself out there in these sort of environments because one can never be too careful, so I continued to listen to his stories. When the story ended, I began to ask random questions about his "portfolio". See the thing is, I love it when men assume that I have no idea what they are talking about. That I have no clue what goes on in their little world. Well, when I started asking questions, he was taken back a little bit because I had just beat him at his own game. (By the way, what's with the games anyway, are we still in 8th grade?) Game, set, match buddy. I win. I have seen and dealt with too many of your type to not have figured it out.

I thought that this was going to be the end of "Chuck". But turns out, the game wasn't quite over. Instead of me winning the game making it quite obvious that I was in no way interested and even telling him so, I guess he thought I still was. Chuck and his converse walked right up to me and plainly asked "So, are you taking me home tonight?" Hmmm....how can I put this tactfully? Screw it, there is no tactful way for this guy. No Chuck, I will not be taking you home tonight, nor will I be answering your calls or texts (I am still to this day not sure why I even gave this D-Bag my number), but what I will be doing is punching you in the face if you don't take a step back from me at this very moment. I have been more than patient with you and have told you on more than one occasion that I am not interested. But that doesn't seem to work for you. Chuck started pleading with me, yes pleading! Never has this happened before. EVER!

2AM and the place is shutting down. Time for me to head home and chalk this one up on my too good to have happened list. I couldn't believe it really. Chuck did text me all the way up until 430 AM. Then again the following couple of days. Chuck did finally understand that I have a little more class than that. While I appreciate his bluntness and forwardness which is hard to find these days, he just went about it the wrong way.

I do wish Chuck the best and who knows, maybe he will find the woman of his dreams in a bar/club thingy. But I do hope that he at least puts more grown up shoes on.

With love,

Sheri

My "wife"....

Two little words that no woman should hear on a date. Nope. No way. Hell to the no. I am not sure how or why, but I seem to get that quite a bit. It makes me wonder if I have a built in still married but want to date me magnet that I am not aware of on my forehead. I mean seriously...why would a man even remotely think that me let alone most women and I say most because I have known a few that are not opposed to it would even like that idea.

It usually starts with a conversation about something that has happened in the past, like a funny story or something of what not to do. Cool, right? You would think. At this point I am most likely at a dinner somewhere with this man, drinking or chomping on my salad, then all of a sudden as we are getting through the basic info like where we are from, what we do, how long we've been here, etc., a sentence starts with well my "wife". I'm sorry, did you just say your wife? Yes, we are still "technically" married right now but we are going through a divorce. I am totally telling you the truth when I say that he did air quotes when he said "technically". Son of a biscuit!! Seriously!? What does that mean technically speaking? Well, the papers are still being processed. So, once that's done then we have to wait a full month and then its final. May I ask...how long has this process been going on? Oh, about 6 months now. RED FLAG ALERT!!!!

Done and done! At that point, it was a lost cause. 6 months? Sounds to me like you are stalling it with the hopes that maybe a reconciliation is on the horizon. Granted, I understand the legal process and all the bull that one must go through to get a damn signature on that paper....I am a divorcee, remember? At that point, I just shut down, there was no need to go forward, no need to think about the possibility of a next date, no need to save the number in my cell, nothing. I will just finish this dinner and beat feet out of there with the hopes that he sees my smoke coming from my stilettos. As this particular date ends, I had to let him know that regardless of the situation, the idea of him still being "technically" married is so disrespectful to his soon to be "EX" wife that I can in no way go further in any type of relationship with him. Geeze....he did say that he understood and he respects my opinion. The end, right? Of course not! You didn't think it was that easy. I soon start to get text messages from him explaining and asking questions like if he wasn't still married, would he have a chance, etc. At that point, I could have either ignored him or for his sake told him that because he came into this situation still married regardless of the circumstance has set a tone that will not be able to overcome. I did in my nicest way possible share with him that because it was right thing to do. No other woman should have to be put into an awkward situation like that....it made me feel like the other woman. Gross! And after all, I was the other woman in my marriage for a number of years, so the idea of being that again was in no way a cool one. I would have much rather had a bikini wax from a woman named Helga who had a mustache.

My wife date 2! So this one was introduced to me by some close friends. He was by all means a pretty nice guy. I was really excited about this one...not that I am not excited about ALL of them, but you know what I mean. Coincidentally, I found out about his wife at the same restaurant and the SAME TABLE!! Talk about me not ever going to that restaurant again. I have banned it from any dates. So, again, same scene with the drink and salad...but this guy was at least up front and honest from the get go. He says to me, so I need to tell you something up front so you know because I don't want to be dishonest. Shit! In a matter of seconds, I had various thoughts running through my head of what it could be. A fugitive from justice, witness protection program, older than you told me, what??? What could it be?! I put my fork down as I needed to prepare myself for the truth.

Well, I am still married. And I wanted you to know up front. Okay.....so why again are you on a date with me then if you are still married? She has a lot of health problems and needs to be on my insurance so that's why. So, you are actually still supporting her in some way shape or form then? I guess you can look at that way. Ummmm....there is no guessing of that. You are dude! RED FLAG ALERT!!! In the most nicest and sweetest way possible and knowing who I am, I am the nicest and sweetest person around (which gets me in trouble I might add), I very kindly explained to him that regardless of why you still need to stay married, that I don't appreciate that concept of dating and still being married. I have too much respect for myself and any other woman who has no idea that her still married husband is on a date with me.

I raise my white flag...I am waving said flag! I am at a loss here. What does a woman have to do to meet a genuine honest man? I don't want a perfect one by any means. Those imperfections are perfect for me. I just want to meet one that isn't still "technically" married. Maybe that's a big request these days. Or maybe that's what we have become....a still married but looking society.

With love from a girl who's signature on that divorce paper is as dry as the Mojave Desert,

Sheri

I don't think a Kleenex would help this one.....

Hi all!

Below is a guest blog from my friend Heidi who told me this story while we were in the airport drinking a cocktail before a flight to Reno this last July. Heidi is married to an awesome guy, has 3 amazing kids and hasn't dated for a couple dozen years at this point. She told me that she actually couldn't talk about this event for over 20 years because she was so horrified. She's a damn good storyteller and by the time she got to the punch line I almost fell off my bar stool laughing...I hope you enjoy as well!

Jen

I was the fragile age of 17. Senior in high school and full of excitement and anxiety. There was a boy a year or so older than me that I really was infatuated with. I had given the message, through friends, that I was interested in him and patiently waited for him to ask me out. When weeks went by and no invitation I figured he needed to know me better and I was going to take matters into my own hands.

My friends parents were going out of town and we figured if we threw a party he was sure to be there. Party plans were under way and the excitement was building. I knew this was my big night! I had figured out exactly what to wear, lied to my parents (sorry mom) and was ready to meet my new man. A day before the party day I woke up with the cold of a lifetime. I could not breathe and my head was full of gallons of mucus...

There was no way I was missing the party and spending the evening with the object of my affection. I rested up and got ready for the evening with great anticipation. We set up the house for the party and we were underway! An hour or so into the party he arrives with a few equally studly friends. Soon myself, a girlfriend, he and another boy were all standing in a circle talking. Here was my BIG chance for him to get to know me! We visited and giggled for a bit and then I felt a sneeze coming on......I put my hands together in the mannerly triangle and Kerchew! It was a major sneeze. As I looked up to meekly utter a shy "excuse me" I felt something wet on my face. I quickly realized I had an eighteen inch snot rocket hanging from my nose! What do you do with that? Seriously, I had no Kleenex in hand and what do you do next?

I exited the area and ran to the bathroom to get rid of my temporary appendage. Needless to say, I never went back into the party area and quickly made my way home.

I was so relieved to meet the love of my life a few years later and realize that that boy was not really worth it after all....

Truth in advertising

I am a realist.....I know I am far from perfect in a lot of ways. My curves have gotten more abundant as I've aged, I occasionally get acne, I snort when I laugh too hard, I have a tendency to interrupt people when I get excited about something and I snore after drinking too much wine. But I am honest in my faults and tend to look at them more like special quirks that make me who I am.

After a few interactions with guys I met online that didn't quite measure up I actually had my best male friend (and former boyfriend from a zillion years ago) look at my dating profile and asked him "Is this a good representation of who I am?". He knows me inside and out so when his reply was a solid yes...I felt pretty good because I do NOT want to be one of those people who show up for a "blind" date and have the other party reeling because what was delivered was not at all what was advertised. I get annoyed because not only is this dating crap hard, why would you making it harder by saying or showing that you are something that you are most obviously not. If I have to find a guy online, why not give him exactly what he is gonna get? So my profile pictures show me as is....full figured in a bathing suit (tasteful, mind you)....smiling and sticking my tongue out, hamming it up after too many beers....with makeup and without...fishing, camping and playing....you know??

So unlike the Forrest Gump "box o' chocolates" ism.....You actually do know what you are gonna get.

In one such situation I had corresponded with a very nice guy from a dating website and after finding out that we had a few things in common like a love of reading and for driving up the coast for the day just to get away we decided to meet for coffee at the local Coffee Bean.

I drove up and got out of my car and he was waiting for me on the patio, with a coffee and a copy of Dante's Inferno on the table. And low and behold he actually looked like his picture! Dark hair, blue eyes, about 5'10" with an average body and a solid handshake. He apologized for not ordering me a coffee as he didn't know what I wanted and offered to buy me my choice of beverage. Nice start!

We grabbed a tea for me and we sat down and started chatting and after a few minutes I started to notice some things that were missing as he spoke. They were small things, not super noticeable at first. But as he got more animated and comfortable it was more obvious that he was missing at least 3 teeth on the top of his grill. And as I tried to get a better look while not being obvious about it I realized the rest of his grill was in piss poor shape.

I know that not everyone is blessed with good tooth genes, nor can everyone afford to have pearly white veneers or implants. But for crying out loud....WHY in gods name would you think that this an OK to hide or breeze over when you are advertising yourself????

As soon as I reached the count of 4 teeth I decided to cut my losses and get the hell out of Dodge before he thought that there was any chance in hell that he was getting his mouth near my mouth. Because really??? No way!!! As he walked me to his car he pointed out rather excitedly that we both drove Honda's and wasn't that a coincidence?!?!? Being that his was a 1985 Honda CRV with a black bra (yes, a bra-I didn't know they still made those!) on the front I was pretty happy about the tooth thing because if it was up to me I would have rejected him for the car and bra alone and that might have made me a materialistic be-yotch instead of just someone who values good dental hygiene in her future mate.

Yours in blessedly good hygiene,
Jen

Business Card Man

Hmmm.....where do I begin with this fella? Well, picture it...a sunny day in San Antonio. I am as usual enjoying the splendor of the sun and getting my bronze on. You know, my golden highlights on my sun drenched skin? Yea well as I am laying by the pool and discussing with the girls all of the days events and blunders, what are we eating for dinner, what am I going to wear, the usual topics of conversation, in walks in a very handsome man whom I had already checked out in the lobby of the hotel in which we are staying. (Just because a girl travels doesn't mean she cant date on the road!) This man was beautiful to say the least. Well as "beautiful" as any man could get. You know the type right? Muscular, tan, tattoos all over, blond hair, blue eyes, tall, etc., etc. and blah, blah. blah. Now when I had first noticed muscle man, I was quite enamored with his looks to be quite honest with you. I saw him in the lobby and made "eye contact" with a smile that showed I was interested but not wanting to be too pushy either. Granted if he wasn't trying to check in and get himself settled, I would have just walked right up to him and start a conversation, because that is just how I roll.

Now over the course of a few days, I saw muscle man in passing and said my hellos, how are you doing today sort of things to get the conversation ball rolling. But, he never bit it so, I just dropped it. But as I am laying by the pool, he walks in and I had to strike at that moment. It was now or never. I walked past muscle man and just started a conversation. He asked me to sit and we talked for a very long time. Now keep in mind the whole time I am talking, all the girls are sitting behind me and I can feel all the eyeballs on me. The conversation was great! Had stuff in common, liked beer, all the important things. As the night set in, it was time to get going and get ready for dinner. But, he asked me if I had any plans for the next evening and would I want to hang out. He wanted to go to a local dance hall that had a mechanical bull...he had me at mechanical bull. Well, how am I to get in touch with him you ask? Well, I could just call the room, but that is just silly and down right dangerous...stranger danger! Hey, I have an idea!! He says, how about I just leave my business card at the front desk and you can come back down later to get it and then we can chat? Light bulb of an idea! Ingenious I tell ya!

Later that night, all us girls are taking over the lounge area in the lobby like we normally do because lets face it, we are kind of a big deal (Not really, but a girl can dream) and as we are still discussing Lord knows what, guess who happens to be coming down to hand over his business card to the front counter? Yep! Muscle man! The thing that I had noticed however was that he had a stack of business cards in his hands. But I didn't think twice about it because hey, he was beautiful! So, of course I walk up and he passes his business card to me like its a pseudo drug deal thing going on. We chat a bit more and immediately head back to the girls to facebook stalk him. Hey, you know you have all done it! At least I admit it! All looks normal, typical pictures with scantily clothed girls in bikinis. Nothing out of the norm.

As the evening arrives for me to "hang out" with muscle man, I am not sure why, but I am not feeling it. I am not feeling the excitement of the company. But as a nice person and one who always tries to follow through, I had to. Who knows, maybe this may end up being a great evening if nothing else but fun! So, after I get back from dinner with the girls he is waiting for me in the lobby and dressed to the nines in cowboy attire. I was totally not expecting that AT ALL. I mean a bolero dude? Really? Whatever. Lets roll! So off in a taxi we go to the dance hall. Its college night at the dance hall. Oh joy! Tiny people dressed in daisy dukes and cowboy boots with big buckles, drinking PBR and twirling their hair. (I twirl my hair but not dressed like that, so its totally cool). Before I head over to the bar to gather my own adult beverage, I first must head back to where I left my shoe on the floor. It was so sticky there from all the spilled beer, vomit and I don't even want to know what else that my feet were sticking to the floor. I had to make a conscience effort to pick up my feet. Yucko! Shoe was back on and I had nice cold one in hand.

Conversation started out great then ended up as follows: "So, you said really liked living in Washington huh?" Yep. Its cool. "Well that's great! Whats your favorite part? The outdoor stuff or weather?" I guess I like both. "Oh okay, well any big plans coming up that you are looking forward to doing there?" Nope. Not really. "Okay then." Hey do you want to dance? "Yes!" (That way I don't have to talk to you anymore and try to pull any hint of interest out of you) (I am also thinking, what time is it, time to leave yet?) A few dances later and a couple of trying to show off that he can dance with a bolero on twirls, I mention that I have an early day tomorrow. Hint taken and we depart without ever getting on the bull. Sadly. I am pretty sure I would have had a much more interesting conversation with the bulls ass than I had with this guy. He was pretty to look at but ugly to try and converse with. On the taxi ride back, which by the way he had already gotten into before I had even returned from the bathroom. He called me as he was in the taxi and said, hey look to the right, I am in a gold van. Oh, okay....thanks ass! For a brief second, I was pretty sure that he had ditched me and I was already thinking about my revenge. Maybe a few business cards to be copied and handed out to various girls looking for a good time. Maybe....

Alas, finally back at the hotel and we part ways. Thankfully! The next day a friend of ours in the same group comes up to us and explains that this nice guy was just talking to her and said that he would love to hang out with her sometime. She couldn't so she told him that she knew of some other ladies that may be up to hanging out. I had to ask....what was his name? She said, oh well, I have his business card here. Imagine that...it matched the same one I had!

Oh muscle man, you have been downgraded to business card man and while you may think your plan of handing out your business cards to women is a perfectly sane and appropriate way to meet women, I must tell you that women talk and we talk about men. Especially men in the same hotel amongst the same group of women. I mean, how tight was that bolero anyway?

I only saw business card man once more in the lobby that week. Not sure if it was the I have eye balls on you gesture I gave him OR it could have been that the very business card he gave me was left in the lobby at the front desk for him to pick up. (I kept that little piece of info to myself...until now of course).

With love and big buckles,

Sheri

Really? I hadn't noticed.

On my seemingly never ending search for the man o' my dreams I continue to use the Internet to try and find him. Some days there is no communication, some days I might get as many as three different "hellos" from different men looking to find the woman of their dreams. I am always very good about responding as I find it rude not to do so even if it is to say, thanks but no thanks. (In the nicest way possible of course).

Yesterday I got one and I am really really unsure of how to respond. So I am looking for a little help. Maybe you can assist when you have time.

Maybe this isn't as safe as meeting a drunk guy in a bar, but I could be wrong.

Oversharing

When Internet dating there are a few steps that you generally take before getting to the actual talking to him/her portion of the "relationship.

After looking through a site and "man shopping" as my friend and co-writer Sheri so brilliantly put it, there is most often the first communication (wink/nudge/poke) via the web site that you are subscribed to, then the follow up email with a "Hi, how are you?". You check him out, if he is acceptable and interesting the inevitable response follows with the whole getting to know you game....back and forth and back and forth and back and forth. Until finally someone decides they have enough balls and enough interest to ask for a phone number or suggest a "meet".

From this point you can go in quickly and meet each other at your local coffee shop, bar or restaurant or you can drag it out with phone conversations or texts while continuing to "get to know each other" until the "should we meet?" is brought up eventually.

This is what I would consider the "safe" method of Internet dating. Comfortable, ya know? Ease in slowly.....Because really? This whole meeting someone online blindly is no more comfortable than my annual OBGYN exams or maybe even as comfortable as digging out an ingrown toenail. You know it has to be done, but it is NOT a day in the park.

One evening not long ago I had enough wine in my tummy that while I was on my patio on my computer, going through the offerings on a man shopping web site, I received an IM (instant message) from a guy who happened to be online, liked my profile and wanted to chat. Wow! It was like jumping in to the lake head first off that ledge...no prep, no easing in, no "getting to know you". It was kind of fun...like insta flirt.

It kind of reminded me a little of meeting a guy in a bar. Remember when we used to do that?

For anonymity's sake, we'll call him PicRich, or PR for short.

Shortly after a few back and forths, I asked PR to send me a better picture of him as the ones online were a little fuzzy and distorted. He said he was new to the site and hadn't put up many pictures yet. You could see that he had potential but I wanted to make sure he had all 10 fingers, both legs and wasn't pushing 300 pounds. I was thinking maybe he could email me the picture and check him out. But no, he asked for my phone number so he could just text it to me.

The little angel on my right shoulder shuddered and thought "Oh no, this is too soon!", but the little devil on my left shoulder swigging wine from the bottle figured "What the f**k, why not????". So I IM'd him my number and waited patiently for a clear picture of this guy.

I got a picture of him just a few minutes later. It was crystal clear and very obviously taken with his cell phone.

Unfortunately it wasn't all of him, he kind of cut off every piece of his body except for his very hard, very close up, very nice sized dick.

Yes my friends....PR sent me a photo of his dick.  His dong, his wiener, his schlong, his johnson, his pecker....whatever you want to call it. There it was, big as an IPhone screen can make it, searing the image in to my brain. I can still see it months later.

I want you to imagine me, sitting there with a glass of wine in one hand, IPhone in the other, mouth open because I didn't know what to say or do with this picture. Should I respond? Compliment him on the very obvious girth and length? Play the coquette and pretend to be embarrassed? Send it to my friends and brag?? Post it on Facebook???

Fortunately fate intervened in the form of a call from a friend in need (a real one, I swear) and I was forced to put the penis picture aside and settle in for a night of wine and friend therapy. I did, of course, show the picture to her....I knew it would cheer her up a little. :)

Just for shits and giggles, tell me what you would have done....

Much love from an over informed girl,

Jeni

Ass Hands

So, I am one of those women that are really attracted to “manly” men. The kind that are a little rough around the edges, aren’t afraid to get a little dirty, like to grill, mow the lawn and beat their chests and grunt like a cave man. Granted, I will kick some ass if the cave man mentality for them means dragging me by my hair. That doesn’t work for me. Sorry Bud!
My latest adventure deemed blog worthy simply because of this one quality that I find is most important to me and I am assuming the majority of women in general. I mean let’s face it, no woman wants to be with someone who is more feminine than them. They don’t want to be the one that kills the roach, the one that spends more time in the mirror than they do or MOST importantly they certainly don’t want to be the one that has softer hands than them. That’s what did it for me…he had ass hands.

Now I met ass hands on-line, go figure. The communication back and forth was great. We had things in common, he was really funny , my age (I always seem to get ones that are 7-8 years younger or are 15-20 years older and I will expand on this later), had a job, a car and he had the same taste in music. So, by all accounts, this guy was a catch. He was also pretty handsome (in pictures anyway)! So, when I finally got the official “How would you like to meet for drinks this weekend?” question, I of course said yes! This was absolutely new outfit and jewelry worthy. I found the outfit, jewelry and already had the perfect shoes to go with said outfit. I gave myself ample time to get ready, curled my hair or what I call put my stripper curls in, awesome make-up job, you name it….I was ready to go!

Based on the pictures, I knew who I had to find. I had this vision in my head that went something like this….I would walk in to the restaurant, as I opened the door, the wind would pick up slightly just enough to make my curled hair move. Our eyes would meet and for a moment, time would stand still so we could take in each other and that instant chemistry would immediately hit the both of us. Slowly we would come out of that daze and I would sashay’ my way to the bar where he stood up and took my hand into his still unable to take his eyes off of me….from there it was just as spectacular. But you get the idea.

Totally didn’t happen. I walked in and the first thing I noticed were his acid wash jeans. Then the tennis shoes and a button down shirt tucked in to his pants with a belt and a cell phone case the size of Texas attached to his belt. That moment that I had just envisioned didn’t come to fruition. Bummer…But, there is always hope. A man CAN be “persuaded” to change the attire to suit your own desires. So I had to give it a shot. Conversation was going great until he wanted to give a high five. Ummm…okay. Sure, I will totally give you a high five on our first date…at a bar…where people are…and I am 35 and you are 36…and this is awkward. Now, please don’t think I am a prude or anything. I give out all kinds of high fives…to friends. Not my initial dates. He gave me a high five because we had that whole we always seem to get the much older people that are interested in us type of thing. Which I guess he thought was high five worthy. So, I didn’t leave him hanging, I did high five him and for whatever reason, he cupped my hand and held it for a minute. Even more awkward. My immediate reaction was something like this…Holy crap, this guys hands are softer than mine. They are all lotioned up, cold clammy and it feels like I am being held by a woman or they are as soft as the skin on my ass (you know you’ve felt the skin on your ass and thought how soft it is). I vomited in my mouth a little. Seriously, I did. I had to pull out of that cupped hand awkwardness. I wanted to pull him outside and take his hands and rub them on the asphalt outside to rough it up a little bit or place it on a belt sander (of which I didn’t have because I brought my clutch and not my luggage sized purse which I normally have everything in, including a belt sander). Ass hands has moved on, as have I.

What can I say? I like ‘em rough and tough! Beat your chest and grunt like a gorilla but for the love of God, please don’t ever have hands softer than mine.

With love,

Sheri

That's What's Up!

So, you know how you have those random meetings with guys in everyday places, like the gas station, grocery store or in my case the gym? Now please know that I just got through running on the treadmill and am sweating enough to start my own purified water company. My make-up was running down my face, I was in ratty gym clothes and my hair was sticking to my face and in some sort of psuedo pony tail/bun/rats nest thing. The below conversation is what took place when I had the pleasure of meeting "A":

A: Hey "gurl", looking good. What's going on?

Me: Oh, thank you! Well, just got done working out. What's going on with you?

A: Oh, you know "gurl", the usual...chilling out and getting my "swole" on. I'm "A". What's your name?

Me: I'm Sheri (hand shake), nice to meet you "A". Good thing you came here to get your "swole" on, I mean its a gym and all.

A: Yeah, you know that's what's up.

Me: Oh, what's up?

A: You know, being here at the gym, like you just said.

Me: Oh, well I guess so. But, what does that mean, That's what's up?

A: You know, it means that's what's up to what you just said.

Me: But all I said was it was a good thing you came here to get your swole on. Are you asking me what's up? I am confused.

A: Nah gurl...that's what's up is just what I say, its like I'm agreeing with you.

Me: Oh, well I guess I just don't understand the phrase, That's what's up.

A: Well, gurl if you go out with me, I will make sure you know exactly what that's what's up means.

Me: Umm....well I am going to assume that you just asked me out on a date and well "A", as much as I would love to really learn and understand what that's what's up means, I am going to have to respectfully decline.

A: Thats cool gurl....thats whats up.

Me: Okay, well then "A", have a good day and a great work out. Or to put it in words you would better understand, that's what's up.

Yes, the above conversation took place and while this was taking place, I couldn't help but wonder if this is what adult conversations had turned into, because if so, I am screwed. I have no doubt that "A" was a nice guy and maybe we would have had a good time. BUT....if just the introduction conversation went like that, what in the world was the rest of the conversation going to sound like? I would have been asking what he meant by everything he said and I envisioned the end of the date concluding with him saying "Deuces" and throwing up the side ways two finger peace sign gesture. So, you can certainly understand why I had to respectfully decline the date before it even started.

So, to all you "A"s out there and to the ladies that love them....that's what's up!

Word,
Sheri

I am NOT a believer

One day a long long time ago, I walked in to a salon with bleach blonde hair that I was trying to grow out from the shortest my hair had ever been. (growing out a mullett sucks!) I happened upon this petit little lady who took one look at me and went "oh lord, what did you DO??". She immediately set to putting my hair to rights and had me looking presentable in just a few months.

Lilli and I hit it off from the first time and now we've seen each other through 11 years of life and have remained friends. She, being happily married with 3 awesome kids, loves to hear about my dating life and would love nothing more than for me to be in the same shoes as she is. So of course, she has taken it upon herself to set me up.

Once was her brother in law, who was a very nice man, but so fresh out of a painful marriage and divorce that the ink was scarcely dry and his house was still lacking all the furniture that the ex had so nicely absconded with.

The second time she set me up it was truly a blind date (my first one ever). It was another client of hers who she really liked, he was fun and funny to talk to, had a good job and was good looking to boot. After much coercion she convinced me to meet him (and I assume convinced him to meet me) for dinner one night.

He picked the restaurant (Aloha Steakhouse, good choice) and we wandered in the restaurant not having any clue what each other looked like. Surprisingly enough Lilli was right, he WAS good looking. And he was very fun to listen to.

That's right....Listen. Because he didn't shut the eff up for more than 5 minutes at an hour and a half dinner. You know how that goes right? He says something, you try and answer or interject and off he goes on a tangent leaving you with a sentence half finished and your brain going..."huh?". So eventually I tuned him out, ordered another glass of wine and just intermittently nodded, grunted or made "mmm hmm" sounds without really listening to what he was gabbing about. I figured if I had to listen to him I might as well get a buzz going, right?

Untill I heard to word "Bigfoot". Multiple times. Something about camping, hiking, sliding down a hill chasing the Sasquach, there were footprints, he made a mold even! But alas, he did not catch the creature as he was always just a few seconds too late.

Wait a second, hold the phone. Seriously? My mouth dropped open guppy-like and I could tell he was getting excited and thought that I was really enjoying hearing about he and his Dad hunting for Bigfoot. Not just once, like they do this all the time. So I engaged him as much as I could, asking questions where he'd let me in just to see how serious he was about this passion of his. As it turns out, really serious.

Mr. Bigfoot continued on his rant for a good 30 minutes and all I could think about was GAWD!!! What are the people next to me thinking???? And what would date #2 be like??? Loch Ness Monster??? Chupacabra???

At a certain point I went to the bathroom and thought about using the old have a friend call me to get me out of this mess trick. But instead I called Lilli and laughed so hard in the ladies room stall that I cried off my makeup and then informed her that she was no longer allowed to set me up on blind dates.

Here's to not believing in monsters, cheers!

Jen

Dude....Your Dog Smells!

So…I am a HUGE dog lover! Mostly because I refuse to be the crazy single cat lady that has 5 cats and treats them like children. Nothing against those that love cats and may have 5 of them, however, let’s face it, there is a stigma there! Anyhoo…one fine morning about 530 AM, I was out walking my fat Chihuahua (He does not have fat rolls, he has muscle rolls), when I ran into this very tall, blue eyed handsome gentleman who was walking his dog as well. Immediately a conversation ensued about dogs and that they are just like kids, etc. I of course was NOT looking my best. My hair was in a mess of a bun, my make up was running down my face because I was lazy and didn’t want to wash it before I went to bed, I had no bra on and I am pretty sure it was “COLD” outside!

Being in that state of unkeptness, he didn’t seem to mind and still took a liking to me. Over the course of a few weeks, we started walking our dogs around the same time and just “happened” to run into each other. Finally, he asked for my number and I figured it was a safe because I knew where he worked, lived, drove and the breed of dog (all important info to know). After a few calls, text messages and dog walks later, we eventually get to the dinner step. Now granted, he did say that he had a busy schedule and that with his job it was hard to find free time, but he always seemed to have time for his dog, which by the way was extremely old. The day of the scheduled dinner date, it didn’t quite turn out like most of us women envision it going. He called and said that he was running late and had a craving for Chinese and how about I go pick some up and we can eat at my place? I should have known…..

I ordered, picked up and paid for the Chinese food. When he finally came over, he was still in his work clothes, sweaty and brought his dog. Awesome! I had no idea that this was going to be a family affair. We settled in on the couch, ate and chatted back and forth…..to my dismay, something was not smelling oh so pleasant. Was it my food? Sniff, Sniff….No. Was it me? Arms up. Sniff, Sniff….No. Did my dog just crop dust us? Sniff, Sniff….No. What in the hell is it? Please don’t let it be him!! Big whiff…..No.

To my amazement, he did not smell anything. Seriously? You can’t smell that. Weird! After dinner, he left and we said goodbye and he proceeded to carry his dog downstairs. Did I mention the dog was old? After I locked up and cleaned up, I smelled it again. Alright, this is pissing me off! What is that? I walked around and as soon as I gagged, I knew that I found the smell. It was where his dog was laying on the floor. His smell had seeped into my newly cleaned carpets. There wasn’t enough Febreeze, Lysol, Glade, carpet cleaner, Arm and Hammer or acid to take that stench away. How can he not smell that coming from his dog? And how did he live with that? What did his place look and smell like? Gross!

A few days later, we texted a few more times but I re-structured my dog routine so I didn’t see him out there. He finally just asked and said “So, should I continue to pursue or drop it?” I said very nicely to “just drop it and thought that he was nice and all but Dude, your dog smells!” A month later he moved into the same building….creepy! Then whenever I walked my dog, he would watch me from his porch….stalker! A year goes by and I see him at a hotel in ANOTHER STATE! I had my back turned and I smell something….a familiar smell. I turn around and he says, “I thought I recognized you from behind….” Psycho!

With Love and Pleasant Body Odor,

Sheri

Prom bomb

Circa 1968, courtesy of my mommy....

Bad dates are not a new thing...they've been around for a while.

Having gone to prom with my first "real boyfriend" (now ex-boyfriend) a year earlier I had high expectations for my junior prom. The first go round we drank pink champagne, danced our asses off and stayed out till all hours of the morning. So this year had to be even better, right?

My friends set me up with  a boy named Scott C. to go to the prom junior year of high school. Good looking, nice boy, what could go wrong? Before I accepted, my BFF Pat, asked me to say no so we could go out, use our fake ID's and go to the bars to celebrate. Because that would have been WAY more fun than a blind prom date. But optimistic me said "no" to Pat and yes to the blind prom date (could there be anything worse?)

Bonus points for me because it was my 17th birthday right?

The guy thought his shit didn't stink, posed all night and all my friends ditched me because they didn't like the guy (still trying to figure out why they set me up with him). I powered through, counting the minutes until the end and prayed to the Holy Virgin Mary to get my ass out of there ASAP.

Way back when, we used to wear garters to prom under our dresses (like a bride, right?) and give them to the boy at the end of the night. On this particular night I gave my garter to Scott C at the end of the night and he looked at it and said "So I should add this to my collection, huh?".

OK Mr. Bitchin'.....get over your bad self and take me home. Now.

So I can go drink at the bars with Pat and celebrate my 17th birthday for real.

Mama Lynn

*This is Jeni speaking now......All I can say is thank you for waiting it out mom. Thank you very much. ;)

"Cash and Prizes"

This real life story was shared with me by my friend Jackie!

I too have tried Internet dating! Honestly, I was really just trying to meet people because I had just moved to downtown Los Angeles. Being from San Diego, I really wanted to meet new people and let’s be real here….possibly a hot rich boyfriend! So, I go online to the (as I found out later) LEAST reputable dating sites there are. Trolling through the men I find what “looks” like the most normal guy.

He's wearing a suit, without the jacket, and smiling back at me with gorgeous eyes, perfect teeth and that oh so attractive California tan. So I contact him and we flirt back and forth, exchanging stories, likes, dislikes, etc. He works in advertising for a very large record label. SCORE! So we decide to meet. He takes me to a really cute cafe, and then I take him to my favorite music lounge. I feel like the chemistry between us is undeniable and this guy could possibly be boyfriend maybe future husband material.

He invites me to his condo. He lived in the hills of Hollywood, in a gorgeous open floor planned condo, overlooking Los Angeles. As young girls normally do, I start picturing a future there, watching movies on his sprawly couch next to his giant fireplace, cooking him meals in his humongous kitchen any chef would be proud of, saying my first name with his last name and picturing where we may possibly have a wedding reception. As I am standing there looking out onto the Los Angeles lights he says, "Hey! Check this out!" I turn around and too my utter horror and embarrassment he is standing there, still fully clothed except for his “CASH AND PRIZES!” Which he is pointing at me. Then he runs at me with it like a 5 year old. He chases me around for about 3 seconds before I can get to the door. Did he really think that would work?! More importantly, had that worked for him before?!?!

He called me a couple days later as if nothing at all had happened and asked me out again.

Gee...No Thanks!

Thank you for your contribution Jackie! I believe you my friend are scarred for life...

With love,

Sheri

Add to Cart

I am totally blaming my sister on this one. Sorry sis! But she is the one that started my whole internet dating debacle! She really had no idea what I was about to get into….Bless Her Heart! (That’s what we say down here in the south). VERY soon after my divorce, she signed me up for my first internet dating website without my knowledge, but I love her for it! Now, this was so new to me, I wasn’t sure what to expect, who to expect and what I was to do about it. I mean, it’s like on-line shopping for MEN! Genius! Whoever thought of this was my hero. I don’t have to go anywhere at all. I can just sit in my living room with my comfy Scooby Doo pajamas, no make-up, no deodorant and maybe not even have brushed my teeth yet! So, there I am…..coffee in hand, mouse in the other, a fat Chihuahua on my lap and Man Shopping I will go! I was so excited, ecstatic and a bit nervous to be quite honest with you, but I figure this was by far the “safest” way to find your next future mate. After browsing the site, you know, looking at various images, reading profiles, thinking out loud things that I knew were not appropriate….like “Ohhh….What are you thinking with that hair?” “Ummm….shave much?” “OMG….you have got to be kidding, that is a terrible picture.” And my very favorite….”What’s up with the picture of your cat as a default photo…please don’t let his name be Sylvester.” Again, I must mention that I was new to this whole idea so I really wasn’t sure what to do when I found someone that I was interested in. I was still trying to figure out how to navigate the site let alone how to contact someone. I mean, do I add them to my cart? Upon checkout do I have a return policy?
Enter Gavin. Gavin was my first internet date. His name was awesome and by all accounts in his pictures he looked H-O-T! Seriously, I was totally taken back at the picture. So, after reading his profile I immediately sent the “ice breaker.” Emails were exchanged and laughs were shared. He is such a nice guy! Now it was time to meet in person. Well, I am certainly not going to have him pick me up, for all I know he could be a psycho! So we meet in a public location where I feel safe and he won’t know which direction I am coming from. My “street smarts” kicked in. I walked in to the local coffee shop and all I remember was that I was so nervous! This guy is HOT, funny and this is going to be so much fun! Our eyes meet….Oh boy, I didn’t have a back-up, call me or text me to get out of this date plan. Crap! I put on that gritted teeth smile and was rapidly thinking that this is going to be a long night. Should I fake some digestive issues, should I start fake yawning to show how I tired I was, should I just go to the magazine display and give myself a paper cut with a magazine on my wrists??!! Gavin was about 4’ 11”, (I am 5’5” and will at ALL times be in 4” heels!), missing various teeth, had dirty clothes on and his finger nails were so full of dirt that I am pretty sure I could have made a mud pie with all that was under them. He also told me that he drove a big truck with big tires and that it was bright PURPLE! I saw it out in the parking lot when I had parked and thought about the poor soul’s wife, girlfriend or significant other that had to be the passenger in that thing.


He was a big fat liar! Liar Liar with your dirty clothes on fire!

With all my inner strength I wanted to scream at him that his picture nor his personality matched what he was or did in person. But, being the classy lady that I am, I subdued my “Ewwwwness” and rolled with the punches. I mean, he may very well be a nice guy and I have to give him a chance….right? All is fair in internet dating! No chance of that happening.


When I got home, I went back to that internet site that I found him on and looked for the “Hell to the NO” cart!

With Love and Clean Clothes,
Sheri

Why internet dating is better than picking a guy up in a bar

The argument has always been.....Internet dating is so much better than meeting a guy in a bar. I mean, in a bar you are drinking, so not only is your judgement impaired in terms of why he is so awesome, but beer/wine/tequila goggles also come in to play and all of a sudden this

Looks like this

I'm pretty sure we've all been there and just shook our heads on the next date thinking "Holy mother of God, I'm never drinking again".

But I digress and am going to (I swear) come to my point about why Internet dating is better than picking a guy up in a bar.

I am horrible with names. Like seriously bad. I have tried repeating them in my head a few times after the initial introduction or saying them out loud, but for some reason I have a little shredder somewhere in my brain that automatically removes names from memory within minutes or even seconds of you giving it to me unless I see it written down somewhere.

Internet dating or communicating via text/email gives me the opportunity to LOOK at the name multiple times and give me an association so that I really can remember the person and the name as opposed to just the person. I truly envy one of my co-workers who can pull a name out of her mental Rolodex after 2 years and one meeting with someone.

Add in my adult onset ADD (self diagnosed of course) and mix with alcohol and you have the perfect recipe for a morning after story that still makes me crack myself up.

Night out with the bestie to watch Raging Arb & the Redheads at Chuy's in Ventura and we were having more fun than most people should be allowed. We met a bunch of adorable guys (for realsies, no beer goggles) who danced with us, talked with us all night and of course kept a beer in our hands all night long. So when one of them suggested we exchange numbers for a future encounter I was totally up for it and programmed his number in to my sweet little Samsung flip phone.

So the next morning while chugging coffee and chatting with Clover to make sure we didn't forget anything at all about our super fun night out, I saw that I had a missed call and message from....

First off, I am just going to point out how awesome it is that I knew he was a guy. And that I remembered where I was when I met him. Beyond that, I recognize the fact that I was in fact a totally drunk bar ho that night. I can only say that after going out with him twice, I still can't remember his damn name. So there. I still think I win.

 

Yours in blissful ignorance,
Jeni

Courage Cosmic Way

It should have been my first clue. But hey, I was brand new to this phenomenon called Internet dating way back in the year 2000 and was logged on to the website that everyone assured me was the best way to meet the man of your dreams. How was I to know that this would be the first in a series of knee slapping, gut busting, crying my makeup off, funny ass stories that I was going to bring home to share with my loved ones about my jacked up dating life.

I don't really recall my first few interactions, only that I was pretty cautious. Because, hey....there could be some psycho stalker out there just waiting to rape/murder/abduct me, right? So after multiple emails back and forth and eventually a tentative phone call, we decided to meet in person.

We met at Joanafina's down in Pierpont for a quick bite in the afternoon, it seemed safe enough and I felt like it gave me the option to extend for a stroll down the beach (hand in hand of course) if things went well and we "clicked" as I had so desperately hoped.

He was a construction worker, lived in Santa Barbara, had a huge loving family that he was super close to and he loved to travel. Plus he had that gorgeous sun drenched skin and highlighted hair of someone who spent their time outside...paired with seriously awesome blue eyes. What was not to like, right???

Let's translate for a minute, kay?

• Construction worker = I helped build the shack I live in with my brother
• In the hills of Santa Barbara = Was squatting on land that didn't belong to him
• Huge loving family = Was raised on a boat with 9 siblings who were taught by mom by "reading lots of books and surrounding themselves with smart people" because they didn't "believe" in school
• Love to travel = Enter the boat on which he was raised and didn't leave until he was 25

Misrepresent much????

I eventually had to excuse myself to the restroom to use my newfangled Nokia cell phone to call my friends daughter so she could call ME in 5 to fabricate an emergency pick up. What did one do before cell phones anyway???? Chew your arm off like a coyote?

And oh yeah....Courage Cosmic Way???

That was his name. I shoulda freaking known. Exit stage left my friends.

Much love from the dating cesspool

Jeni

How I Began my Swim in the "Dating" Pool

I am a 35 year old divorcee....surprising considering that I had this grand idea of what I thought my marriage was. But then one day while laying in bed with my now ex-husband, I received a phone call that changed my whole idea on what I wanted out of life and in a relationship. The conversation started with a woman telling me that "Being a fellow woman, we need to stick together and look out for one another. I just want you to know that your husband is cheating on you with another woman." My first thought was, thank goodness it was with another "woman" and not a "man" because that would be the end of it right there! She continues with "...and she has been in your house." I asked her various questions about this accusation and of course she answered them all correctly. To end the conversation, I said "Thank you, have a good day." WTF? "Thank You??!!" What in the world was I thinking. I was not all there and still trying to figure out where it all went wrong. But, in the end I had my dignity and manners of course with "Thank You, have a good day." (Thank you for telling me that you are sleeping with my husband and have been in my house). After the ever so awesome confrontation, I ended up in the corner of my bathroom sitting next to the toilet and shower and I was naked, thankfully though I had just mopped the floor otherwise I would have totally been grossed out. While sitting on the floor, I was wondering what I was going to do. My very first thought was that now I am going to be one of those people that "date". Who are these people? I have no idea what these people do. I was married for 13 years so this whole dating thing was going to be a new adventure for me. An "adventure" is an understaement. So now here I am, sharing with you all these great "adventures" that I have been on. I take solice in knowing that I am not alone in these "adventures". That there are others out there that have been on a date that ended up with no shoes, no shirts and ultimately no date!

Always Bitter with Love,
Sheri

Who knew?

Who would have guessed that we would ever hit our mid thirties and still be single and childless? Definitely not Jeni & Sheri. Way back in the day when we met in high school, we both had a constant stream of boyfriends and images of our future with one of them or another, add in the picket fence and a munchkin or two and the dream was complete.

One husband and multiple boyfriends later we both find ourselves stuck flat in the middle of the so called dating pool....which leads us to the introduction of this blog.

We are gonna share some stories with you....some are old, some are new, but all of them have a common thread in that they made us (and our friends) laugh hysterically and often send us bolting for the door.

If you have a story to share and want to post it on the blog please feel free to email us. Misery and hysteria love company.