Advice

"Didn't your mother tell you that sex leads to things like dating?"


Frasier Crane --Fraiser

Labels: Boy Stories, Carpe

The Meantime is Wasted Time

How long should you entertain a 'meantime' relationship? For me, six months is way too long! That is why, last night, I put out the flame with Mr. T. I had been analyzing my weekly sex and sushi romance and suddenly realized that we had been dating for six months! Six months and no mention of where the relationship was going. Six months and no talk of a future or even what we now had. It was the big elephant in the room...we both had it on our minds, but neither of us stepped up to the plate.

BATTER UP!

Last night I dug my heels in the dirt and took control. I was dreading it. It would have been so much easier had Mr. T been an asshole or a jerk, but he actually was a decent guy--we just 'weren't that into' each other. When Mr. T had suggested an evening of dinner and such, I firmly stated I wanted to meet for coffee. Yeah, he knew it was coming.

You see, dating someone in the meantime can be fun and jolly, but in reality, the meantime is wasted time. It's becoming complacent. And soon, it's just the easiest thing to do. It's familiar. And I forgot exactly why I was spending my nights with this person to begin with. Did I see myself falling in love with person? Did this person challenge me? What the hell was I getting besides dinner and sex? I can feed myself. And I can pleasure myself. I need to be out there and be fabulous so I can meet my Mr. Right....not the stereotypical Mr. Right Now. By living in the meantime, I was wasting time.

Mr. T knew it was coming. He knew it was coming for a while and was surprised I didn't say anything until last night. I, MYSELF, was surprised I didn't say anything until last night. It was just too easy for us to go along with it, enjoy each other's company, then go off and live our lives for the rest of the week. He said he even felt like he didn't have to try anymore. And that's why I knew it was time. Like I said in a previous post, I don't need a sugardaddy, but WOO me for Christ's sake! Tell me I look beautiful! Send me a romantic text...whatever! The romance had fizzed--even though the sex hot. And that was six months ago.

So while I was walking home in the rain, after a final cordial kiss goodby, Mr. T texts me and actually thanks me for the mature way I broke things off....then makes a cute romantic statement about how cute and funny I am. Too little too late. Time to live in the now.

Labels: Boy Stories, Carpe

Pride

"I will be your sugar daddy in exchange for some hot steamy nights. Tease me and please me and you will be showered with gifts..."

UGHHHH!
This is a quote from an email that I received from my internet experiment. I don't think so. Is this not code for prostitution??? Sorry, buddy, not going to happen. And this is basically what the rest of my emails either hinted at or just as boldly stated. Sorry , but I cannot bring myself to even consider going out with these guys. My experiment sounded dandy and all, but I ceased to consider one thing. Oh yeah---PRIDE.

I am a confident, self-assured woman and I do not look to a man for financial support, nor would I provide 'hot steamy nights' in exchange for any gifts. Gifts are nice, but my pride is nicer. I can wake up with my pride in the morning and be ok. While pride doesn't give me Tiffany's or orgasms, it still can make me sparkle and feel great.

So I think I answered my own question with a few simple emails. I am NOT a gold-digger. I don't need to go on a series of 'experimental dates' to figure this out. I need someone who will make me laugh, so hard that I almost pee myself. Someone who will love me in heels or fuzzy slippers. Someone who shares the same values and goals. Cute butt? Bonus. Fat wallet? Yes, bonus, but NOT a necessity. To be honest, when men I don't care about showered me with gifts, I began to appreciate both them and the gifts even less. I know it sounds crazy , but another pair of earrings? And they would get tossed into my drawer....If a man didn't have money but cared enough to stop and pick up my favorite flower, I think I would be just as much, if not more, pleased.

The more I thought about my own 'gold-digging' problem, the more I realized it was not a problem. Hallelujah!!! I guess this blog thing does more for me that I realized :)

And I am not going to go out with the German again. His personality wasn't rich enough for me.

Labels: Boy Stories, Carpe

Digging for Gold

I have a confession to make. I think I am a gold-digger. I never really thought about it until my date last night with a new boy from nerve.com.

The date started off ok, with drinks and dinner at the yummy Asia de Cuba (GREAT lobster potstickers!). Christian was a perfect gentleman--cute, handsome, German, and rich. Despite the fact that he was only 27, which is normally a no-no for me--I only date over 30, Christian owned several companies and was rolling in the green goods. I knew all this beforehand, of course, because he had met my criteria and made it to date status. Let's put it this way--I only answer online ads from Doctors, Lawyers, Bankers, or anyone else that makes over six figures. And yes, there are some dating sites that tell you that. Is this wrong? I started to question myself and my motives as Christian began to babble on about the German beer fest. I could see his lips moving, but frankly, I really was more interested in the hottie at the next table and was trying to meet his eye. When that didn't work, I asked myself if I would consider seeing Christian again. I mean, he was decent and all, but hey, that doesn't cut it--he wasn't dynamic, funny, spiritual, or any of the things that I look for when searching out a good man with boyfriend potential. But he was rich. I came to the realization that the only reason I was laughing at his mediocre jokes and resting my fake bossoms on the table was because he was money. He went to all the cool parties, hung with celebs, and oh yes, his aunt is the lead singer from Roxette ("Listen to your heart..."). Had this boy been a teacher, a police officer, an an aspiring actor, or any other respectful, yet average paying career person, would I REALLY be that interested? Honestly, no.

Am I a gold-digger? Has it come to that? Am I that shallow???? But then, I think to myself, ok, would HE be really taking ME out like this if I were not a five foot ten model? If I were 50 lbs overweight? Hmmmm....who was using whom in this situation? This city is laden with fat, old, disguisting men dining and sleeping with twenty year old bimbos....Go to any Jean Georges restaurants and you will see for yourself. Can we say sugar daddy? Or arm candy? It goes both ways. I have a very rich friend who says he cannot know who his true friends are because he never knows if they ahang with him for the money. Likewise, do any of the men I date actually like me for my stellar personality? Or my goofy magic tricks at the dinner table? Good question.

I have always seemed to date affluent men and always figured it was just by chance that the men I dated had at least SOME money. Or was I subconciously seeking them out? My drawers are full little blue jewelry boxes and other gifts from men. I have gone on trips, been bought clothes, and even had one suitor who bought me a videocamera, a laptop, a flatscreen TV and more....GASP! WAS HE MY SUGAR DADDY!? But I wasn't sleeping with him.... I have grown a bit since then and know I wasn't living honestly and can no longer accept such gifts. I had to tell him to stop (painfully, oh so painfully....) I digress. My point is, from then on, even though I now know there is more to a man than his wallet, I ask myself, does it hurt if he has a wonderful soul AND a fat wallet? Do I really need a man who can afford a lavish lifestyle? Hmmm....this is what I intend to find out.

So, in the spirit of Sober's 'experiements' I am going to take two different dating routes and then analize my results. I am going to put up a profile on sugardaddy.com (yes, there is such a thing, check it out!~) where everyone is out in the open about what they are looking for, in hopes of actually finding a mate. To counteract this, I am also going to eliminate anyone who makes over 50K on another site. I am going to log the details of the dates to tell the differences between they types of men and also to see just how much money means to me in finding my perfect mate. Should make some good stories!!!!

Oh, and the date with Christian ended up pretty nice, with a walk home (despite the fact we were attacked by hoodlums-simply were in the way of a robbery and got knocked down!) I might give it another shot to see if he wasn't on his A game-- *wishful thinking??**

Labels: Boy Stories, Carpe

Let's Go Yankees~!

Is there anything better than a good old fashioned baseball game? The spirit, the excitement, the unnatural smell of hotdogs, the Yankees with their tight uniforms and oh-so-round buttocks, and the cutie drunk men cheering them on. Yes, I love baseball.

So I brought my mother to our annual Yanks vs. Sox game and had a wonderful bonding experience. Not only can we share our ignorance of the game, but we also share our appreciation for Mr. Jeter.

So sitting in our nose-bleed seats, I realized that bringing a mother to a baseball game must hold some attraction to men. It reminded me of how a girl with a dog attracts attention (not that I am comparing my mother to a dog!!!) We received so many comments about how cute it was for a mother and daughter to go to a baseball game together and how we could be 'sisters'. Yeah, like my 57 year old mother looks like my sister. Unless Im aging very poorly at 26.

Anywhoo, I get mesmorized by the cutie single dad in front of us and start striking up a conversation with his adorable son. Yes, I actually think his 6 year old is cute, and that says alot, given my strong dislike for children. Ok, ok, so some of it entailed a cheap way to get to talk to his blue-eyed cutie father. So the dad and I are hitting it off and he invites me and my mother to sit down next to him in the two empty seats. We are getting along great and the chemistry is TOTALLY there--he had even hinted at bringing me to another game with his little rugrat. This is all fine and dandy EXCEPT for the fact that after a great play and our cute new victory dance, who appears, but one of the men I have been dating for the past few months. Lets back up. So in March I started dating this fellow, lets call him Mr. T. We have been casually dating (and yes, sleeping together) since then. It has not been too serious, only for the fact that with the summer and our such hectic schedules, we could only see each other once every week or two for the occasional sushi and sex. This actually worked out for my advantage because it kept him and I from getting too close, which is how I want to keep it at this point. He , however, has hinted at getting more serious and I have avoided the topic like I do fried foods. So anyway, I had mentioned to Mr. T that I would be at the game and he had told me earlier this week he may have seats (but in the expensive section). Apparantly I told him what section I would be in, because , yup, in the 7th inning, during my victory with Mr. Mom, he pops up. This was just too ironic-how could he have remembered my seats? Yeah, the tension was thick. Anyway, I introduced him to my mother (I NEVER introduce men to my mother!)as he gave me a quite obvious and territorial kiss in front of Mr. Mom and proceeded to stay with us for the next inning. He proceeded to talk about our upcomming BBQ date on Wed and how its SOOO nice to spend time together. There went my chances with Mr. Mom. Oh well, Im not the maternal type anyway and don't want kids...especially those that aren't mine!

BTW, I DID pay enought attention to the game and Yanks kicked ass!

Labels: Boy Stories, Carpe

Who is CarpeDiem?

It occurred to me after posting my first blog that, hey, I have never formally introduced myself....I am not some random person crashing the blog...

About a week ago, while dining with my new friend, Sober, she introduced the world of 'blogging' to me. Having been a virgin blogger, I was amazed that this whole new world that existed without my knowledge. We had been discussing dating , my favorite topic, and she mentioned I might have something to add to the group. Hence, she invited me to join and voila, here I am.

While my profile is easily available, a few things about me:

My motto on life: "Its better to burn out than to fade away"
My motto on men: "Men are like Kleenex-soft, strong, and disposable"
My motto on food: "Nothing tastes as good as thin feels"

I am a typical urban gal...I like to be tough , strong and independant- I hate to feel vulnerable! I am a thrill seeker, and will try anything once, just for shits and giggles-- if not for a great story later on!

Sober thought I would have some good advice on men/dating and I plan to get my thoughts out, share them with others, hoping that somewhere, someone can learn from my adventures...(and mistakes!)

Here's to the beginning of a beautiful relationship!
CarpeDiem

Labels: Carpe

Date with Self

So I sit in my apartment eating a gourment dinner I prepared for myself and surfing the web. Finding myself with some free time, I declared tonight "my date with self night" only to find that I have absolutely no idea what to do with myself. Am I really that boring??? I must say that I am a bit disappointed with myself that I didn't have a date set up for tonight. Its very unusual for me to sit at home on a given night. Thats not to sound vain, its just the truth. Is it because I can't sit with myself? Perhaps. But in all honesty, I think its because I am a single gal living in the city who just plain loves men. And dating. And sex. In fact, I think dating should become an olympic sport. I don't know if Im looking for Mr. Right. Im sure if I met him, I'd settle, but as of now, my love life is mostly derived from match.com, matchmaker.com, nerve.com, lavalife.com and any other site that pops up when you google 'dating'. Additionally, I enjoy meeting men in coffee shops, men with dogs, men with suits, men with pulses....

So tonight, dateless, I went to my favorite step class with my favorite instructor. I live in the village, so basically all men at the gym are gay, but with slamming bodies. I have an obsession for my step instructor-- I want to eat him up, take him home, but wait, oops, he doesn't like women. Nevertheless, my mind wanders as I focus on his buns of steel while trying not to fall flat on my face.

After class I hit the Gourmet Garage to get some ingredients for my romantic night with self. As I pass the 50 types of lettuce, a boy who had been eyeing me through back in the mushroom aisle 'accidently' bumps into me, apologizes and proceeds to make small talk about produce before asking me for my number....I take his email. I don't do phones. He was pretty decent, albeit on the verge of dorky, but its nice to have a backup just in case of a dateless night emergency . I see nothing wrong with going out with someone you know isn't the 'one' as long as its casual and fun. You can always learn something new... Besides, its a great way to experience new things and go to fabulous restaurants :)

So my 'date with self' night continues and I think I will settle in with some Garden State Soundtrack playing , and perhaps a fun visit with my friend the rabbit before putting myself to rest. Note to self: must put away all 'rabbit-like' materials before mom visits this weekend...

Hey, at least Ill get lucky.

Labels: Carpe