Line Dancing, Laundry, and onLine Dating

Screen Shot 2013-04-29 at 8.31.09 PMA title with three seemingly random topics, yet, they are all intricately intertwined, and all add to the only part of dating that I consider humiliating–

Online dating.

I HATE IT!!!  In fact, every person I speak to who does it, says, “I’ve had it with these losers, tomorrow I am taking my profile down.”  And every person I know who hasn’t done it in a while says, “Might try Match 1 LAST time!!!!!!” (and that was a direct quote from a text, though I won’t reveal my source).  And everyone who marries someone they met online says, “I swear, my membership was about to end and I wasn’t going to renew, and on the last day she reached out to me.”

Being the romantic that I am, I always get suckered in by the later. Perhaps I should join a membership site for three months and not go on until the 90th day.

There is an eerie feeling that I get when I’m online dating, that wherever I go men are looking at me differently, kinda like, “Hey… isn’t that the girl from It’s a weird look, a mix of “I know personal stuff about you,” and “Bitch! Why didn’t you write me back?”

On Wednesday, my paranoia was confirmed. I went out line dancing with some friends and a 60+ year-old-man was giving me the weird look. I turned in the other direction but he walked up to me and said, “I’m Tony,” and shook my hand with strong conviction. I told him my name. He started making small talk, then said goodbye to my relief.

Ten minutes later he came back. “Jessica!” he said.

“That’s my name,” I replied.

“I bet you don’t remember mine,” he challenged. I told him I wouldn’t take that bet. “Come on, there’s a breakfast cereal character named after me.”

“Ah, Tony.” I obliged him.

“You’re good at guessing.”

“I’m grrrrrrrrrreat!” I said, using full Tony the Tiger arm gesture in the hopes he would think I was a goofball and go away.

“I recognize you from Plenty of Fish,” he smiled mischievously giving me that eery feeling.

At this point, I’d had enough. “You’re on POF? Good luck with that.” I said, and turned back to my friends.

It’s bad enough when people you don’t know recognize you.  But one of the main reasons I have avoided Match this time around, is because I’ve finally been in town long enough, that while looking though the profiles (they let you take a sneak peek without joining) I spotted at least 20 local guys I know, none of whom I’d date, and all of whom I fear would write to me if they saw me on there.

And what made the whole online dating even more disconcerting was while reading some of their profiles I uncovered lie after lie after lie. But, how do you really judge an online profile. What’s worse, flat out lying like the one guy who claims to be a “social drinker” and is actually a fall down drunk raging alcoholic, and physically violent toward women when he is. I’ve suffered a few black and blues just being around him when he’s drunk, OR misrepresentation by omission?

Take me for example. I can’t tell you how many guys have read my profile and told me I seem like the perfect woman. And I suppose I am… if the only criteria was what I offered in my profile. But what if the guy likes a woman who does typical “women stuff?” Then I am faaaaaaaaar from perfect.

Take for example exhibit A: My mom taught me to do laundry before I went to college, so I’ve been doing it for a long time. And yet, just four days ago, I washed my favorite pair of white knock-around baggy pants, that hung perfectly on my hips, revealing the ab lines

Exhibit A

Exhibit A

I’ve worked for since I was 18… and now they’re pink.. PINK! So here it is– I can’t do laundry! I can’t cook! I can’t sew! I kill everything I plant, even Pothos plants which can apparently live on bong water and cigarette butts! I don’t like decorating! I don’t like shopping! And I’m a raging workaholic (though I am really working on the last one, the others.. not a shot).

Are me and my pink pants equally as bad as the guy who puts up a profile pic from 1989? Or the guy who claims to be 48 when he’s really 57? Or the guy who says he’s 6′ when he’s 5’3… did he think I wouldn’t notice? I mean fudge an inch, but 9 inches? Dude, I said I was 5’4″ in my profile, in flats I’d be looking down at you. That’s a noticeable height lie, and I specifically said that height was not a deal breaker, so if you’d told the truth, I wouldn’t have cared. But having a pathological liar for an ex, (which I left out of my profile) has left me wary of someone who leads with a lie.

Which leads me back to my online profile dilemma.  This is my third time online dating and the first two times did not go well, so I need your advice.   Am I technically lying by omission if I’m only sharing my very best, most celebrated qualities? Do I need to add a little frame of reference for the full spectrum that I bring to the table? Give it to me straight loyal readers, as I wait to discover who will be date #7…

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Screen Shot 2013-04-18 at 12.13.52 AMThis date was actually the opposite of the movie because we went on the date at the bookstore first and, because we like each other, now have to continue our relationship via the internet. I met Joe Fox on the first night of my 2-month business trip to LA. On our date he pointed out how romantic it is that I met him on my first night here and we went out on my last night… I love that I met someone who is as busy as me! Wait… is that bad that I’m actually relieved that he was so busy that dating didn’t interfere with my work?

Anyway, more about him. He’s tall, dark, and handsome, with two deep dimples. I have a real thing for dimples. I never realized it until I started writing this blog. What the heck is it about two dents in the checks that occur when a guy smiles that I find so completely sexy? Speaking of sexy, he’s Brazilian. He kept apologizing for his accent. Umm hello.. if my panties could talk they’d have screamed, DUDE do you not know how sensual you sound?!?! He works in visual effects so he’s got the cool geek thing going on in that he’s sexy but also smart and techie.

While he’s not passionate about bookstores, we agreed on the setting because of how revealing sharing our sections would be.  He asked me to take him to my section first.  I told him I had two and that they were next to each other. I knew the first one would speak to my entrepreneurial side which would be helpful in easing him into my second section.. a section that men do not go in to!  Well, it turns out I haven’t been to Barnes and Noble in a while and my first section had moved. So much for easing him into my second section… Chick Lit.

Now, if you’re a guy reading this, you probably don’t even know what that is. Chick Literature, as I explained to him as we entered the fiction section, are all the books with the pastel and pink colored spines. Authors include Sophie Kinsella, Jennifer Weiner, and Lauren Weisberger. He noticed the Danielle Steele section, and I explained, “No, I’m not into romance novels. Mine are more like Rom Coms in book form. They make me laugh out loud and are perfect for the beach. While I love a Dan Brown novel, those make me think and follow intricate plot lines. With Shopaholic, I just crack up and wonder how the heck Becky’s going to get herself out of the messes Sophie writes her into.”

I wasn’t sure of my first impression so I suggested we go searching for my other section.  When we found it (Entrepreneur/Business section), he lit up because it was his favorite section too… he was also probably relieved that there was more to me than pastel spines. IMG_3855There was a particular book he had mentioned earlier as we rode up the escalator, The Lean Startup, and it was displayed prominently. That led to a bit of a competition to see who could point out more books  we’d read. I was at a slight disadvantage, as most of my reading these days is Chick Lit because I do my business reading on blogs. I pretty much only had Tim Ferris’ 4-Hour Work Week, and when Joe pulled Rich Dad/Poor Dad off the shelf, I was happy to have found a second. Our section was a tenth of what it once was, shoved in a back corner. Probably because all the business people are too busy to go to bookstores and download books to their Kindle.

IMG_3853Squeezed in to the other corner was his other favorite section… the computer education books. This was when I really started learning about him. He got his first computer when he was 6 and was building computers when he was 10. I love hearing stories that reveal someone was basically destined to be in their career because of their passions as a child. He was pulling out books on programming and talking a language I didn’t understand (and it wasn’t Portuguese), when a book grabbed my attention. I pointed it out, “iPhone Sex?” IMG_3854That grabbed his attention too. Actually it was just my mind playing tricks on me and it actually read “iPhone SDK” which he explained, but I’ve already forgotten what it meant. And with that he realized it was time to leave the textbook section.

The great thing about Barnes and Noble is that there is more than just books. We discovered a mutual enjoyment of puzzles and that we both IMG_3858obsess until they are done (I joked about how I wouldn’t sleep until it was done… but I wasn’t actually joking because I’m pretty scary when I obsess over the completion of a puzzle, so needless to say I gulped when I saw him pull out a 3000 piece puzzle, and he announced that wasn’t enough, and tried to find a 5000 piece). At this point we’d been on the date for about 45 minutes when we came upon “The IMG_3856Complete Worst-Case Scenario Survival Handbook… Dating & Sex.” I pulled it off the shelf, handed it to him, and suggested he check if there was a section for a date in a bookstore.  He laughed, as he put the book back on the shelf, saying that he was having a lot of fun and it was certainly a date he’d never forget.

As we went down the escalators, the DVD section was on the left. Well, we couldn’t possibly pass that up.  Turns out he loves Rom Coms in fact if he was going to produce a movie it would be a rom com… (cue the angels singing).  I don’t think I’ve ever met a guy who admitted he likes rom coms.  We both grew up loving the same movies, ET, Close Encounters, and then he started talking about the advancement in technology in the visual effects movies. I swear I could have listened to him for hours. What was really cool was I could tell him which Vis FX I didn’t like in a movie and he’d be able to explain what it was about the effect that was not up to par. I just love listening to guys talk about what they are passionate about. They get that look in their eyes that girls get when we go by a chocolate shop or a shoe sale.

The nice thing about being on a date with a guy from LA, was that at the end he said, “So you leave tomorrow and won’t be back for a few months. So we will have to communicate via SKYPE.” I guess guys in LA are so used to people traveling for work, they just understand. The guys in Florida, not so much. They get freaked out when I have to leave.  Maybe I’ll have to start dating Floridian pilots or military guys, because they understand traveling for work.

Our date ended with a hug, a little talking, another hug, some more talking, another hug, and then we said goodbye.  He followed up with a text thanking me for “today” and wishing me a safe trip… all that and a gentleman too. So, I’m sure this is not the last of Joe. I’ll be sure to keep you posted…

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And We Broke Up… On Valentine’s Day

Screen Shot 2013-02-14 at 6.31.47 PM“I’d stand in front of your house with a boom box, but I don’t know where you live. I know where you’ll be on Saturday so maybe I’ll show up with it there,” said Bohdi. “In that case, I’d better carry a pen with me,” I replied. It’s too late for a grand gesture.

Bohdi and I dated two months. I wrote about 3 of our dates, but we saw each other a lot in the first month, not so much in the second. I told him a week and a half ago, I was feeling disconnected, I thoughtfully and clearly expressed what I needed in order to feel like we were moving forward. If that meant that he only wanted to see me once a week, that was fine, I told him. I just wanted to manage my expectations because we’d started out so intensely. I guess I caught him off guard, because he got really defensive, even accused me of “changing on him so quickly.” I hadn’t changed, I was just communicating that I was feeling badly, missing him, and I wanted to understand if his feelings had changed. And if they hadn’t I wanted to get on the same page for getting back on track. He was so frustrated with me for bringing it up that he accused me of being “another thing to add to his list of things going wrong.” I told him I didn’t want to be another burden on him, quite the opposite, I wanted to be something great in his life. Then I got off the phone, not feeling any better, but willing to give him a chance to see if after he thought about it, maybe he’d make an effort… he didn’t.

Being alone for many years it’s easy to get into a routine and when you start dating someone it may be hard for some people to break their routine. I felt like he had his life exactly the way he wanted it and was trying to shove me into it. Everything we did, except the two dates I planned, was with his friends. It’s like I was cast in a film with a group of strange actors and it was our job to be long time friends. Only it wasn’t an acting job, it was real, and I was uncomfortable.  From my perspective, I was being respectful of the life he’d created, so I spent the time with his friends and family, but I wanted him to make some time to ask me out, to do things alone, so we could get to know each other and find out if I belonged shoved into his lifestyle. So, I waited…

He still wasn’t asking me to make plans. He’d say things like, “Everybody’s going on the boat Saturday, and Sunday I like to fish, and I’ll be working out 4 nights a week and Thursday I have my game… (long pause) and you’re welcome to join.”

I DON’T WANT  TO BE ‘WELCOME TO JOIN” I want to be invited. I want to be called up and asked, “Jessica, would you like to come out on the boat Saturday?” I’m not a buddy who is welcome to come along. I don’t want an open invitation. I want to know I’m wanted!

Look, maybe it wouldn’t have bothered me as much if there weren’t other seeds of doubt. We were incompatible in many ways, ways that were not important to point out to him, because he wasn’t going to change, and he doesn’t need to. Neither of us are wrong in our ways, our ways are just wrong together. In other words, he’s a great guy, just not great for me.

And yes, it made me sad, that while we were breaking up, he pointed out that it was raining and it was Valentine’s Day, and it was just like a scene from a movie that I would like.  It goes to show, that he does have an idea of what I like but he wasn’t willing to risk putting his heart on the line to get closer to me. Believe me, I don’t want to get hurt. I don’t enjoy feeling sad and disappointed, but I do because I let myself like him. I got emotionally involved, I showed affection, I did my best to communicate with him, and that’s what must be done if a relationship is going to work. I’m looking for the man I’m going to spend the rest of my life with, so I’m all in. I’m putting my heart on the line. If a first date doesn’t feel right, I move on. But if it does feel right I’m going to go for it full throttle, learning from my past mistakes, clear on what I want, and not settling for less.

When I wrote about our last date at the Miami Heat game, a guy left a comment saying I was shallow because all I talked about was the game and not my feelings for the guy. ‘Shallow,’ would not be a word that anyone who knows me would use to describe me, and yet, this stranger’s comment stung.

At the point where I invited Bohdi to the game (that was part of the problem, our last two dates were ones I planned not him), our relationship was already strained. I’m torn about sharing my feelings about a guy I’m dating in a blog. While I don’t want to appear shallow writing about the fun stuff I’m doing and the romance, I also want to respect the guys’ feelings. I don’t think it’s fair for you, my loyal reader to know how I’m feeling about a guy before he does. And even if I did tell him, and then shared it with you, I worry that I’ll scare off my future “Mr. Right” because he’d be afraid I’m going to blog his dirty laundry.  If you don’t agree, feel free to let me know in the comments below.

I think it’s fair that we compromise. I share the surface fun stuff. I share all of my positive feelings. If I’m falling in love, I’ll let you know, maybe even before “he” knows. This blog is meant for your entertainment and my accountability, because if it weren’t for you, being out there, reading this and waiting for date number 6, I’d probably wallow in self pity thinking, it’s not worth feeling like this and not go on another date for 2 years. But I promised to go on 50 dates (unless I find “Mr. Right” before then.) So, time to put on my Big Girl Dress, and get back out there… Well, maybe I can be sad for a few days, first.

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How To Lose A Guy In 10 Days… Not (Date#3 with Bohdi)

Screen Shot 2013-01-27 at 10.57.13 AMOne of my favorite scenes from How To Lose a Guy in 10 Days is when Matthew McConaughey takes Kate Hudson to a basketball game and she has him running back and forth for concessions, causing him to miss most of the game. He of course, is compelled to keep her happy due to a bet.

Well, there was no bet on this date, and Bohdi and I had 12th row center court seats for the Miami Heat game. As a Los Angeles girl, I’d seen a Clipper game and too many Laker games to count, so I felt like I was cheating on my Lakers… for all of 5 minutes! At first I was jokingly pretentious, “Where is Jack Nicholson? Where is Diane Cannon? Where are the Laker Girls?”

photo copyBut then the Miami Heat Dance team came out and when they did, they brought “the heat”… literally! They had cannons shooting fire and being in the 12th row, my eyebrows almost singed. It was freakin’ AWESOME! They Screen Shot 2013-01-27 at 10.57.48 AMhave their own DJ, and while the seats were far from full, the crowd was ready to party!

The announcer was cracking me up! I wish this blog had a sound feature so I could imitate for you the way he said Lebron James and Dwyane Wade.  I’ve got him down! If you ever see me on the street, ask me to do it!

After the first quarter, I was a Heat fan! I loved watching the teamwork (I’m used to “the Kobe show”) Lebron James and Dwyane Wade were so much fun to watch! And we were so close we could hear them talking, especially when Wade fouled one of the Detroit Pistons and tried convincing the ref, “He pushed me!”… uh, nice try, but even I could see it didn’t go down that way.

In between, the Miami Heat Dancers would come out and “dance” which I photohave to say, if there had been a pole, they would have been strippers, a far cry from the tie-dyed band that came out during a time out and danced with tubas- mad respect for tuba totin’ dancers!

But THE MOST exciting part was the halftime, half-court throw. I’ve seen this a ton of times, where they pull Joe Shmoe out of the crowd and he is supposed to throw a basketball from half court for money. No one makes it. The DJ pulls this guy out and tells him he can win $75K. He repeats this to the out-of-shape, short guy, at lest 5 times. And just as the guy is about to throw it the DJ yells in his ear, “75 Thousand Dollars!!” You could see the guy sweating on the jumbo tron. He hooks it over his shoulder, which from my perspective looked like it wasn’t going to make it even a quarter of the way, when suddenly.. Swooosh! No net! HOLY CRAP! The whole crowd jumped to our feet! We were going nuts! The DJ was going nuts! Joe Shmoe was standing in shock until Lebron ran out and tackled him! It was CRA-ZY!

And while the Heat won the game, I still think the $75K sink was the most exciting moment…  the only exception possibly being Tom Cruise and his photogirlfriend sitting in the second row in front of us trying to avoid cameras in a baseball cap. I was so busy trying to get a picture to share with you, I missed most of the 2nd half. The irony was, when he got up to leave and I actually could get a shot of him, Tom turned out to be Christian Slater, which while disappointing to Bohdi, was still quite exciting to this Heathers fan.

Then in the last quarter, all of the fans were up on their feet flapping their arms yelling “Birdman”. I thought they were trying to psyche out one of the Pistons, though none of their names appeared to resemble the name bird or any kind of bird, so I was confused, until a Heat player with a Mohawk, completely covered in tattoos, came out on the court. He was Birdman and he was a little bit terrifying to look at… I mean, what is he going to look like when he’ 70? These are the things I think about. Maybe I was dehydrated at that point and needed water.

I think sport events make great dates! And this one was really fun!

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Grey’s Anatomy Ruins Sex On The Beach!

Screen Shot 2013-01-21 at 4.23.19 PM

Bohdi has had the flu all week, so I have not seen him. I HAVE had time to catch up on all of my DVR’d shows, including Grey’s Anatomy, which completely RUINED my “sex on the beach” fantasy.  You know, Dr. Bailey, if you want to be mean to first years and interns, that’s your prerogative, but with this monologue, you have gone too far!

“I had sex once on my honeymoon, one time on the very first night. We arrived in the Bahamas and my husband wanted to have sex not in our well appointed suite but on the beach, so off to the beach we went and we had sex and I got sand up in my cookie, yes, a vagina full of sand that gave me a bad bad infection and a trip to the local doctor who confirmed the infection and also diagnosed a few sand flea bites on my boo-tock, yeah, his word, boo-tock. He also went on to say that my boo-tock would go on to become very itchy and he was right. So, a painful infection and an itchy boo-tock are what I had on my honeymoon, so no, I am not a fan of the beach or a pole or anywhere at this point I am a fan of a bed.” – Dr. Miranda Bailey

Does anybody watch the movies or the Bachelor for that matter? It all makes a roll on the beach look so romantic. I had dreams of going to a tropical island with its white sand and clear blue water, and having a night to remember under a meteor shower… okay, maybe the meteor shower is pushing it, but come on! There’s something so peaceful about the beach at night, when the water is warm (I’m on the East coast at the moment, that West coast water is another story!), and the moon is full.  How could Dr. Bailey turn it all around making it gross, painful, and itchy?!?

Do I buy into this television madness? Or do I poll my readers to find out if it’s still a possibility? Come on there have to be people who’ve successfully (and by that I mean without infection and flea bites) had a romantic romp on the beach! Maybe a few mosquito bites if they started at dusk, but other than that, there has got to be a reason why the rest of the media keeps perpetuating this fantasy, right?

You tell me… hold on to the hope of a sexy beach fantasy or avoid sand in the cookie at all costs?



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Not Quite The Blue Lagoon With Bohdi (date #2 with Date #5)

IMG_3600Oh don’t get me wrong, it was romantic like the ending of The Blue Lagoon, we just weren’t stranded, desperate for food, or two naive teenagers.

On the contrary. I packed a delicious picnic basket filled with gluten free dishes like thai chicken salad, chicken with wild rice and cranberries, and mozzarella/tomato/basil. I also brought red wine (water for me.. in a wine glass), fruit, and biscotti (he got the chocolate chip, I got the gluten free pine nuts & cranberry).

The first 5 minutes would determine whether this was date was to be a romantic rendezvous or a raving disaster. His two person kayak, was tied to his dock. I had to get in first (not tip the kayak), then he had to lower the 30 pound picnic basket into the front of the kayak, between my legs (may be exaggerating… may have been 20 pounds, I just know I couldn’t hold it by the handle, had to hold it with both arms from underneath. It was definitely heavier than my 19 pound mastiff puppy when I used to hold her with two arms!)… and then for the real challenge. Now that I was balanced, the basket was balanced, and Bohdi had settled his back pack, all 6’3″, 230 pounds of him had to get in the back and not tip us.

Did I build up any suspense?….

I suspect not if you’ve peeked ahead at the pictures.  When he saw the basket, he did warn me that we were going to get wet.  Can’t say that I believed him. I’ve kayaked before, but in a single kayak on a tropical island where the water was as calm as a pond. You know, I probably did get wet those times I kayaked, but when you’re not trying to deliberately keep something dry (like your sexy straight hair, and an open picnic basket with cloth napkins), you don’t notice.

Every time, I lifted my paddle out of the water to paddle on the other side, water got in the kayak. Hmmm. That’s when I came up with the brilliant plan for me to paddle on one side and he would paddle on the other. Only he’s a tad bit stronger than me, so I had to paddle twice as hard to keep up… okay three times as hard.

I’m making it sound worse than it was, as I was thoroughly enjoying the quiet of the IMG_3604canals and when we finally turned the corner to find the private beach, it was exactly what I had hoped for, white sand, tiny shells where the water washed in and out, and a covering of twisted trees so we didn’t have to be subjected to the hot sun pounding down on us all day.  There was even a rope tied to a branch for swinging on.

He pulled the kayak up on the beach and we made ourselves at home… quite possibly in IMG_3602some “displaced” person’s home, as we found a fire pit with a large pot, a large 4’x4′ 4″ deep crate that could double as a bed, and just into the woods, a wardrobe of tattered clothes hanging from branches.

We made a promise to leave the area better than we found it, and figured, whomever “lived” there, probably didn’t come out until nightfall.  Bohdi dragged the crate into the water and rinsed it off, put his large towel over it, and I covered it with the green sheet, which was not necessary except for the Martha Stewart design scheme I had going on.

The view from our beach was beautiful, and Bohdi knew every type of fishing boat to IMG_3609yacht that went by.  The great thing about boaters is, no matter if they are on a 10 million dollar yacht or a 10 dollar blow up dingy, everybody waves. People on boats are very friendly and I think we can all learn something from them. I pondered a theory that if everyone lived on boats there would be no war, but then Bohdi educated me on pirates… actual pirates who steal yachts and… well, I’ll stop there, this is a romantic date, but let’s just say I won’t be yachting near Somalia anytime.. ever.

We ate our food, he drank his wine, we lounged about, I swung on the rope but did not jump into the water (sexy straightened hair and all). Then a couple of teenagers showed up with some beers and made themselves comfortable. Luckily, they were playing reggae. A little while later, I overheard them discussing what a good thing it was that Nirvana split up or we never would have had both Nirvana and Foo Fighters. I was proud of their parents for exposing them to good music, and did not feel it was my place to “school” them on the fact that Nirvana did not “break up”. But I digress…

A short while later a couple of their teenage friends came to shore on a small fiberglass boat and picked them up. Alone again at last… we lounged some more, and then it was time to go home. We had a leisurely kayak back.  It was an ideal day!  And the more I get to know him, the more things I discover that we both like to do. I’m pretty sure I’ll never get him to watch my “guilty pleasure” reality shows, but I can live with that.

This set the bar pretty high, so we’ll see what date #3 brings…


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The Dating Dilemma Of Buying A Birthday Card


birthday card… I’m Talking Stop, Drop, and Roll!…

Yes, that’s the card I picked out for Date #5, otherwise known as Bohdi’s, birthday. And that’s not the best part! The best part is when you open it, it plays the song “Burn Baby Burn, Disco Inferno…” I laughed so hard that every person in the card isle stopped to look at me.

But seriously, I had no choice! Buying a birthday card for a guy I’ve been dating for 3 weeks is a far bigger challenge than I ever anticipated!

First of all, I’ve only bought birthday cards for boyfriends, and none of them had birthdays until we were months into the relationship, so by that time I could buy the mushy one and the funny one. But we are talking 3 weeks people, and I am spending his birthday with him. It’s too soon for a gift, so I must bring a card.

I started out in the “Just for fun section” but they were too general, so I looked under the “for him” section. Well! Those cards were big boobed bikini girls on the cover asking “One, Two, Three, Four, do you want to see more?” or “For your birthday thought you would like a perfect 10″… ummm he’s got a perfect 10! Or if I’m not a 10 I’m a 9.9… or maybe an 8.2… see these cards are messing with my self image!  Next…

Then there were the Family Guy cards, and even though he loves Family Guy, I mean: Screen Shot 2013-01-11 at 4.22.47 PMInside:  WHATEVER YOU DECIDE TO DO, HOPE IT’S FREAKIN’ SWEET! Who Wants to Play Drink the Beer?

Just not appropriate coming from me. There were cards with a big bulldog chomping a cigar in his mouth and an actual feather protruding from his hat, an ugly purple gorilla doing something I’m not sure I understood, and a pair of mushrooms with googly eyes that read “to a fun guy”… I think that has something to do with hallucinogenic drugs.

So, I wandered over to the serious cards and found one that looked very nice, not too flowery, not too religious, just kinda outdoorsy … “You’re a good man” it read on the front, and then I open it up.. “and a good dad.” ARRRGGGG! Next..

Another one, that looked pretty rustic.. “Nobody can fill the unique place in the world like you do. Nobody can smile your smile, laugh your laugh, be wonderful in the way that is so indisputably you.”  Okay, now we are getting somewhere. He does have a great smile and a great laugh. It’s general enough that coming from me would say ‘I think you’re special, but I’m not rushing things’… and then I opened it and it did in fact say, “You are special… and I Love You.”

Oh Hey-ll no! And from that point on I discovered that every “for him” birthday card in the serious section said I Love You.

I was running out of sections!  Until I found the musical cards. And that’s how I wound up with my card of choice. Okay, it is a bit suggestive, BUT, I think the fact that The Trammps are busting out Disco Inferno, will add enough humor to put out the fire that the copy may imply.

What do you think? Do I stick with the crazy singing, yet pretty suggestive card? Or do I need to go back to another card store and tone it down?

Help! I never anticipated the dating dilemmas that are presenting themselves. Comments welcomed below!





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I Hope I Didn’t Jinx Myself…

Update: Date #5; Bohdi. I’ve seen him everyday except Tuesday since our surfing date last Saturday. It was the first time in YEARS I had a guy to kiss on New Years Eve! And not just “a” guy, he’s a pretty “great” guy.

So today, while visiting my favorite store in the mall (the Apple Store) I couldn’t help but notice the GIANT SALE sign in the window across the way (Victoria’s Secret)… I shouldn’t have gone in, but it’s a trap… everything is pink! We girls can’t resist pink! I just figured: New Year, new guy… calls for new…. and I left with a big pink bag. Correct me if I’m wrong, but when you go out and buy new lingerie for a guy who hasn’t seen you naked, that’s a jinx right? It means I’ve jinxed myself and now something is going to happen and the guy will never see me naked and the tags will never come off and the prints will go out of style, and I’ll be asking myself, “why, Why, WHY did you buy bras before he even got to second base?!?!?” (and that’s second base as it was established in the 80’s as I have no idea what second base means to today’s generation and frankly I don’t want to know.)

I know what you’re thinking, “Jessica, you’re being neurotic.” But would you be saying that if you and I were sitting in a rowboat, in the ocean, on a picturesque sunny day, and I said, “This is perfect, what could possibly go wrong?” No! You’d throw a life preserver at my head and yell, “Why would you say that?” as the sky turned grey with time capture speed, a large fin started circling the boat, and the only life preserver that we had, bounced off my head and into the water when you threw it at me!

It’s just a pink paper bag, filled with pink tissue paper, and a couple of cute little irresistible items.. and yet, I can’t unpack the bag.  If I put those items in the drawer you know what I could be giving up?

1. He is a black belt in some form of martial arts, which I can not pronounce let alone spell.  And, because of my laser-like probing, he revealed that he can, in fact, do a split on a kitchen counter top like Jean Claude Van Damme in Time Cop.

2. He loves to give massages! I have a text from him (which I will keep forever as evidence) which reads: What you can count on is I will always give you massages. (He actually wrote something even mushier after that but if I tell you, he’ll be afraid that I’m going to “out” him as a romantic to the world, which may discourage future mushy texts.)

3. He has fruit trees. This may not sound like much to give up, but when he told me he has coconut, banana, avocado, mango, and starfruit trees, I immediately started looking up recipes for salads and smoothies.. I NEVER WANT TO COOK FOR ANYONE… I want to make this guy a salad.. trust, me, that’s saying something!

4. He loves roller coasters… I love roller coasters! He’s traveled the country going on different roller coasters. He loves to travel… I’d love to travel.  And he’s been to lots of foreign countries (even some scary ones where you shouldn’t go).  This guy is adventurous, and he is already bringing out a more adventurous side in me (he got me in the ocean on a surf board… 18 years in Los Angeles and I went in the ocean once, and that was only because my first year there a college buddy dragged me in kicking and screaming).

5. He’s a really, Really, REALLY good kisser.. so good in fact, that I got ahead of myself and filled the pink bag!

And so here I am staring at it.. debating… to return or not to return, that is the question. What do you think?

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Where to start… where to start…. I am woozy. I don’t know if it’s from the day of sea air, the lack of food or the major crush I have on my date! I must also say that I am sore and slightly bruised in unexpected places…


I met Bohdi at the beach. He told me to look for the rainbow umbrella and his big red board. He then added that the rainbow umbrella is not his but he’s near it. However, the minute I spotted the umbrella, I also spotted my friend who had introduced us. She had a whole circle of people set up in chairs with coolers and fancy contraptions that clamp your towel to your chair. These were seasoned beach goers. I was informed that Bohdi was on his way over to meet us.

I saw that big red board getting close and then the big dimples… love the dimples! Bohdi and I set up our chairs on the outskirts of the group. He began by educating me on the basics of surfing (this was my first time, by the way). We did a few “on-sand” exercises so I could learn where I naturally find my balance (left foot forward), where I needed to be on the board when lying on it (closer to the front because I’m short), and how to get up from being on your stomach (that proved that this was going to take a few more lessons, today I would not be standing). I was starting to get the feeling that those years of “bus surfing” (balancing in the isle on the speeding junior high school bus) were going to be of no help to me now.

It was time to go down to the water. I put my leash on (it’s a Velcro ankle strap with a long tube that attaches to the board so when you get separated you’re still attached) and stepped into the water.  Then I squealed… yup like a girl! The water was cold! Bohdi told me I had to just dive in and I’d be fine. But no.. I hopped and squealed all the way in until I was hit by a wave and totally wet.

I was getting slammed by waves (they were only 1-2 feet, but to my that was huge). AND… I made the stupid mistake of wearing mascara. What was I thinking? I’m on a surfing date with a hot guy and he’s on a date with a girl who now looks like Alice Cooper! I’m still trying to jump the waves to get to the sand bar, he swears is out there, I’ve got salt water in my eyes, up my nose, in my mouth… I could not drown yet, it was too soon to be embarrassed! Speaking of near miss embarrassment,  his sister-in-law, who was part of the seasoned beach goer group, gave me a surf shirt to wear because apparently my bikini top would not have survived the ride.  Though if I had to choose between the embarrassment of a near drowning and flashing a boob, I’d go with the boob. I’ve seen people being resuscitated after swallowing tons of water and it’s not pretty.. my boobs.. are pretty.

But I digress.. because nothing embarrassing happened and now you’re probably thinking about boobs. Did I mention he has the cutest dimples and a great smile, and a sexy thin goatee? Are we back on track? Good.. I’ll continue.

I made it to the sand bar and he taught me how to paddle and it’s MUCH harder than you’d think, because you have to balance your whole body while the board is being swayed by the waves and direction matters, and luckily he was walking next to me the whole time until I heard from a far, “You’re going to paddle to the Bahamas!” WHAAAAAAT??? Where was he? How the heck did I get so far out so fast? “Remember what he told you, Jess, there have been no shark attacks in these waters in the 30 years he’s been here.”

I turned myself around to point back toward the beach to see his head far in the distance. Good lord! How do I get back??? I could hear him yelling to paddle back and to turn and see where the waves were. Those waves are good, just as quickly as I paddled out, they took me back. On my first run, I managed to make it all the way in on my board without falling off.

Obviously, NOW I think this is easy, so obviously NOW, on my second run, I catch a much bigger wave and next thing I know I’m under water looking up at the board above me remembering Bohdi’s brother’s words, “If you go under just stand up.” So, I did, and realized I was in two feet of water. HooAHHH! That was my biggest fear of surfing, I survived it so now I was ready to go! Only, I was already exhausted.. how was that possible? But I didn’t tell Bohdi, who was already pulling me out again… my personal guide.. I was digging this, I could’ve taken a nap on the board while he did all the work! When we were back to the sand bar, I was lying on the board and he kissed me…. and yes, somehow I still managed to maintain my balance (wooziness kickin’ in and all). Apparently, he’d been surfing since he was 9, all over the world, but had never kissed a girl on a surfboard. Either the best line of all time, or he’ll now have to remember me for the rest of his life.

I continued to take his direction as he taught me to find the front curl of the wave and when to pull up on the board, and did this a few more times until I was spent.  I laid on the sand like I was about to make a snow angel sans snow! At this point, we had drifted so far from all the people on the beach, that he pulled the board up on the sand and he sat on it pulling me in close. He was nice and warm and gave me a few kisses on the neck and… whoa! Hold up, this is not that kind of blog! So we talked for a while and then decided to rejoin our friends.

The afternoon was very relaxed. One of the guys had a radio playing classic rock. Bohdi brought us fruit and we ate pineapple, watermelon, and strawberries.. yummmm! We had some more snuggle time on the giant beach blankets he put out. He’s very affectionate and likes to give me back rubs which even in my foulest of moods I could never refuse. So being in a great mood, I was in heaven. Every animal trainer I’ve met has told me that each wild beast has a spot that when touched properly will tame it and in some cases hypnotize it. Tickling my back is definitely my beast taming method.. there I go tangentalizing again (that’s a made up word I use when I go off on weird tangents).

Ahhh yes, surfing was good, and other than the big red bruises on my boney hips, I’d say I had thoroughly enjoyed it.  And just when I thought I couldn’t be any happier.. just when I thought I couldn’t get any giddier, he offered to drive me to my car, and there it was… now for some women, it’s a Ferrari, for some it’s a Bentley, for some they’d be happy with a BMW or convertible Lexus, but there, parked before me was the 2013 Motor Trend Truck of the Year.. The Dodge Ram! It was BIG, it was deep cherry red… and I could her Sam Elliott’s Voice Over in my head saying, “Jess, you have found yourself a Man’s Man.. A Ram Man.” Sam’s got the coolest voice and Bohdi’s got the coolest truck, and I had the biggest smile on my face of the day!

He drove me back to my car, and kissed me goodbye.. he’s a good kisser, and I know he was being a gentleman and not going full out!

I have a major crush on this one, and yes there will be a date number 2, though I don’t think seeing him tomorrow at the sports bar for football will count as number 2, but at least I get to see him again in less than 24 hours… 🙂

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You know that moment when you’re driving to meet a first date for yoga on the beach.. under the HOT, blistering sun, and you put your left arm up to rest on your driver’s side window only to remember, “Dang it! I forgot to put on deodorant.”  And date four is off to a great start…

Salvadore, is a certified yoga instructor and thought it would be romantic to do yoga on the beach.  (Note to readers: I find guys who are into yoga very sexy.)

He suggested I drive to his house which is across the street from the beach and we would walk.  I agreed.  What I did not expect was for Salvadore to meet me at his guest spot, and then ask me to come inside his house because he had to get his stuff together.  (Note to readers: being invited into a strange man’s house within 30 seconds of meeting him- NOT sexy!)

Reluctantly, I followed him in, keeping a two arms length drag behind him. I quickly walked over to the large dining room table because as a child I was great at winning the “chase around the table game.”  He got his towel and two beach chairs, and then as he made small talk, my childhood skills kicked in.  He would walk toward me and I’d nonchalantly walk in the other direction. Then he’d walk the other way around the table to grab a back pack and I’d walk the opposite way. I felt like the black and white cat trying to escape Pepe Le Pew. Don’t get me wrong, he was not creepy. The fact that all the books he had around were Agatha Christie and various murder mysteries, was a little creepy… but I digress.

So far, Salvadore was nothing more than a polite gentleman asking good “get to know you” questions, while packing a little picnic for us.  I was impressed that he planned for my gluten free eating needs. He grabbed a few activity toys to play with, and we were on our way.

He set up our beach chairs and then we headed up to where the sand was fairly firm and laid out our towels for yoga.  It was a beautiful setting, though I was working more on balance than my poses because my feet kept sinking into the sand.  At first, Salvadore was simply calling out sun salutations, but after about 5 minutes, he was off of his towel and adjusting me. “Encouragement.” (If you haven’t seen Couples Retreat you must google the yoga scene video). Before I knew it, I was in pigeon and Savadore was on top of me pressing on my thighs and shoulders. “Boom… boom.” (Again, you must see that movie scene). Now, I’ll admit, it was quite presumptuous on his part to be all over me like that on a first date for a half hour or so… but who’s counting.  To be honest, my favorite part of yoga classes is when the teachers are touching me. Male, female… I don’t care. It feels great! So, I let Salvadore do his thing. “Boom.. boom.. encouragement!” It only got weird when he was bringing the yoga session to a close and had me go into Shavasana (for non-yogis, you are lying on your back in “corpse pose” with your eyes closed). I had completely relaxed and was enjoying the sensation of the warmth of the sun, when out of no where, he planted a wet kiss on my forehead.

I don’t know, it didn’t kill it for me. It was kind of sweet, but on the other hand, a blindsiding kiss is not the greatest move on a first date. But I recovered and the date went on.

Know what’s hard to recover from? Getting hit in the eye by a high speed Waboba. I get it. His teenage daughter won’t play with him at the beach (did I mention he’s about a decade older than me?), but I’m still a girl.  While he may have a MLB pitcher fantasy going on in his head, I am not Jorge Posada, and he was throwing fastballs! He couldn’t help but express his excitement about finally having someone to throw the Waboba with in the ocean, but frankly, I didn’t get what all the hype was about. From the moment he busted out the thing (which I thought was an updated version of a hacky sack), he continued to share his disbelief that I’d never heard of nor seen one. Call me crazy, but if I’m going to get excited about playing a game with a guy at the beach, it’s going to involve a football, volleyball, or maybe even a frisbee. Trying to see how many times you can make a Waboba “skip” on the water… ehh. I went along with it because he was truly having a blast, until he whipped the thing into my face. I was just glad to have an excuse to end the game of not-really-catch.

He made up for the ball blunder by pulling out not water, but coconut water… fancy schmancy!  So, no Dirty Virgin drinks were consumed on this date, but coconut water was in abundance. Unfortunately, for him, his daughter interrupted our about-to-be picnic, because she needed to be picked up from the mall earlier than he’d expected.  We walked back to his place and he went inside.  I waited outside. He invited me in.  I declined.  He reached in for a goodbye… I-don’t-know-what, because I quickly maneuvered it into a hug and was off.

We texted for a few days after the date. I was still on the fence. He felt too old for me, and by “felt too old” I mean, I really couldn’t imagine kissing him.

And there you have it… bring on Date 5!

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