A Date Girl’s Fantasy

Sports night: every female’s fantasy. A room full of captive heterosexual men all looking to be distracted during commercial breaks. -Carrie, Sex and the City

I just have to say it: Match is my fantasy man. When I first saw his pictures, I thought he was a hottie.

When I got to know his personality, he became downright sexy. And every day that passing, I think I get more and more attracted to him. Sometimes I get overwhelmed with my daytime fantasies of Match. I’d love to just rush home, throw one of those english saddles on his back and ride him around our bedroom. Too much? 😉 But seriously, I don’t think I’ve ever dated someone who I as physically attracted to as I was emotionally. I know physical attraction isn’t everything, but it separates that line between friendship and something more.

I think that’s the thing that was always lacking from my past relationships. They were so skewed in one direction or the other, attraction wise. Either I was attracted to their personality or their looks, never both. With Match, I am amazed by how balanced my feelings are towards him.

Not only does he rock my world physically, but he’s the other side of the fantasy too. When he says things like, “Is it bad that you’re the only person I want to hang out with most days?” or “Have a good day, love of my life”. Sometimes I feel like there’s no way this guy can be for real, but the way he says those words, and the looks he gives me, I know he’s being completely genuine. Oh, and ladies, yes he does cook dinner and sometimes he even rubs my feet. 🙂

My Quarter Century

When they write the book of my life, what section will I be in? Mystery? Horror? Romance? Or just misfiled and jammed in the back under military history? -Samantha, Samantha Who?

Last weekend I celebrated turning a quarter of a century. I know that for some of my readers, this seems pretty young, but for me, it’s a milestone birthday. In my young life, I’ve experienced many ups and downs. I’ve survived some atrocious relationships, over ten different moves (all after I graduated high school), family hardships, the births of my two nephews and one niece, high school, college, I am on my second “grown up” job, and hopefully the beginning of a very important chapter in my romantic life.

Continue reading My Quarter Century

He’s Got the Crazy Eyes

Barney: Dude, you gotta ditch her.
Ted: Obviously.
Marshall: Wha…why?
Barney: She’s got the..’Crazy Eyes’.
Ted: Dude…the eyes…they’re CRAZY.
Marshall: What are you guys talking about, the ‘Crazy Eyes’?
Barney: It’s a well-documented condition of the pupils, or pupi.
Ted: Nope, just pupils.
Barney: It’s an indicator of future mental instability.
How I Met Your Mother

As promised in a previous post, I will be telling the torrid stories of my dating past. I’ve been going in reverse chronological order, starting with the last guy I dated before Match, and going from there. This post I’ve been dreading, because this person is someone I’d like to forget all together, but I better just get it over with. Hopefully after telling it, you guys will see just how much I appreciate what I have now. This is the story of Date Girl and her Crazy Ex. Continue reading He’s Got the Crazy Eyes

My Apartment Manager is a Liar

Michael: I’m not a one night stand kinda guy, I don’t like lying to womenGob: These are lawyers, thats Latin for liar. –Arrested Development

Match is officially my roommate! I could not be more excited. It was not without drama though sadly, no thanks to my apartment complex. I can’t tell you how pissed off I was when I received a phone call last week from the manager, telling me that of course Match could move in, but he’d have to pay a whopping extra $500 deposit. We exchanged words, and then she accused Match of lying to me.

Here’s how it went down: I was sitting at work, daydreaming about moving Match into my place when my phone rings. I waited for voicemail and it was my apartment manager proudly announcing they’d received Match’s application and would gladly put him on the lease as a roommate replacement, provided he pay them an additional $500, and that I should have a good day. First of all, my a$$!! Mind you, I was just replacing a roommate, not moving out, not signing a new lease, just a new roommate, old one moves out. In any other situation, a roommate leaves, and the deposit is worked out between the new and old roommate. For some reason, my apartment complex ran Match’s credit wrong and decided he was a risk and they needed more money from him, just so he could live with me.

I asked if it were possible that they ran the check wrong, as I happen to know Match’s credit is as good as mine (excellent even). They said that wasn’t possible, and then the woman went on to say, “Well maybe he’s lying to you. You don’t know for sure.” Can you BELIEVE that? Here’s this woman, who has decided to put doubt not only about my roommate, but my boyfriend, and to further doubt his word?! She then goes on to say that he has filed a bankruptcy. I was like what in the world are you talking about? ( No way has this boy ever filed for a bankruptcy). But besides the point, here’s a woman, over the phone, giving me personal information about someone’s else’s credit. ILLEGAL!!! So I call up dear Match, fuming. He says he’ll go down there and straighten it out. I felt terrible, because this was supposed to be a joyous occasion.

He promptly headed to the apartment office, credit report in hand, to set the record straight. The lady looks at him and asks if he’s had a bankruptcy, and he says no way, my credit is in the high 700s. She then glances at her screen, and says, I’m not joking, “Whoops, I had a bankruptcy filter checked. You’re fine, you can move in with no extra deposit.” SERIOUSLY? I swear we should sue her for defamation of character. I was so mad that she put us through that. All because the woman can’t read her own credit reporting software.

As I was unpacking some of Match’s things a few days later, I happened upon one of the promotional pens they gave us at the office when we moved in. I had a brief thought of jamming that pen in that bitch’s eye. That, or at least keying her car with it. But I’m in no way violence, so I took the high road and snapped it in half instead. That’ll teach her…

A Lesson in Bladder Control

Marcel, bring me the rice, come on. Bring me the rice. Come on. Good boy, good boy. Come here, gimme the rice. Thank you, good boy. Well, I see he’s finally mastered the difference between, “bring me the…” and “pee in the….”-Ross, Friends

I was so excited for Labor Day weekend to get here. I had grandiose plans of romantic dinners with Match, and relaxing evenings spent without a care in the world. Because of fire academy those didn’t happen. Also, I happen to be training for a half marathon (did I mention that?) and spent all day Sunday moaning in pain and recovering my knees after running 12 miles in two hours the previous day. Still, we managed to have a great weekend, until Monday, Match’s only day off. Continue reading A Lesson in Bladder Control