Dating Rage, Tinder, and My Butt Crack

Dating rage. It’s real. ALL TOO REAL. I know that everyone gets dating rage from time to time, but mine is a special breed. I don’t get angry that boys are confusing, frustrating, or hard to read. I don’t get upset that a boy I like doesn’t like me back. We’re not dealing with the usual, people. 

I come back from dates wanting to throw my kitchen table out the window. And I hope that it lands on my date. No, too far Tam. (I’m on a nickname basis with myself). I keep finding these wonderful, attractive, successful, fun guys. And they all make me wanna barf my pants. Hence, THE RAGE.

One guy I went on a few dates with was sitting with me after we went out to lunch. He is seriously a beautiful man. HOTT. He is a college graduate, working a full time job, easy to talk to....literally nothing wrong with him. Yet as we were sitting there and he was telling me how he wants to take care of me when I’m sick (seriously SO sweet), all I wanted to do was make weird youtube videos and jump on the bed with my roommate, which in turn made me so angry I wanted to kick every wall in my apartment (and I would do it by hopping on one foot from wall to wall, NOT walking).

Another guy I went on a few dates with was SO MUCH FUN. Holy dump, he could probably have fun looking at pictures of bald heads (okay that might actually be fun) or cleaning up wet toilet paper or writing a research paper about pots and pans. He was cute, he knew what he wanted in life and he was going for it, and he was very kind. But most of all, he was the definition of entertainment. It was exciting with him. We were weirdos together, it was nice. And yet, whenever I was with him, my mind was elsewhere...thinking about the Dr. Oz episode when I learned everyone should poop at least once a day (uh oh)...thinking about that ugly cat I saw earlier...thinking about when my sister farted in the exact tune of “Whoop there it is”. I thought about anything and everything except for him. And that made me want to punch a thousand heads.

Another guy, I can be 100% myself around. Maybe too much myself. Definitely too much. Things get out of hand real quick when we’re together. Only problem, the thought of kissing him in my head is equal to eating a tire.

Another one, perfect, ya pretty perfect. I love hanging out with him. He’s gonna make bank. Somehow, I’m attracted to him (nobody’s sure how....he’s not your classic hottie boomba lottie). He makes me laugh, I make him laugh. It works. But... I would NEVER EVER EVER marry him. Thinking about being with him for eternity makes me cry soft, sad tears. 

The worst part about my problem, IT MAKES NO SENSE! 

Sometimes the rage starts before the date ends. The poor guy is just trying to get to know me. He asks something like, “What are you studying in school?” My mind says, “I’m graduated you little idiot! Get out of my face!” He asks, “Where do you work?” My secret reply, “I’m unemployed so shut the H up about it you insensitive butthole!” But don’t worry, I act really happy to be there and interested in what they’re saying. Seriously though, this is the face I use... 

Works every time.

 But by the end of the night it usually ends up more like this...

There is no reason for my misplaced and inexplicable rage. I think I'm really just mad at myself, so I take it out on the world. That's healthy, right?

I’m sure every guy I’ve dated thinks some of this is about him, but it’s not, because I blocked you all from this post, for your own good.

**If you're interested to know what I'm actually looking for in a man, refer to this blog post http://iwishiwasblack.blogspot.com/2012/09/my-husband.html ...that's all I want, is that really too much to ask?

On another (but related) note...I’m on tinder. It’s more for entertainment, it’s literally in the entertainment category on my phone. I’ve swiped 'no' to about 5,000 and 'yes' to 2. And I only said yes because one of them said “Love me tinderly” and the other said that duck face pictures and cats are deal breakers. And that’s all it took.

Scariest feeling in the world- wiping a smudge off your screen and accidentally swiping 'yes'. My heart dropped so low I thought it might fall out my butt. 

**Tinder tip: Guys, real talk, if there are any pictures of you flexing with your shirt off I will swipe no and then come find you and knock you out. Also if all your pictures are so far away that I can only see that you are a man or a lesbian, I’m going to assume you have a face only a mother could love.  

Who knows...maybe I’ll have the horror of telling my children I met their father on a dating app that I in no way support. (I did get matched with those 2 yes’s...)

On yet another (but very unrelated) note...I have these pants. They are one of my favorite pairs of pants, if not my #1 absolute favorite. But they always show my B crack. Standing up I look great, better than great- these cords really do things for me. BUT If I bend over, there’s my butt crack...if I reach for something, butt crack...twerk, butt crack....sneeze, butt crack. My butt crack, though, is a sacrifice I’m willing to make in order to work those beloved $3 thrift store pants. Life is all about sacrificing for the greater good. Hey, maybe I’ll wear them on my tinder dates. Boys like a little butt crack right? 

Why Do I Always Forget?

Why do I always forget what Taco Bell does to me? How is it that Taco Bell consistently leaves me on the bathroom floor waiting for something to shoot out one of my ends (you just never know which it’s gonna be) ...and yet I always go back for more. Sure, while it’s in my mouth, that creative Doritos shell with that mild sauce from the heavens takes me places I’ve never been. But after those tacos have had their way with my digestive system, can I look upon them with the same deep affection? Apparently so.

Little addictions... We all have them. Those things that might not be so good for us, but they provide us with a temporary happiness that we are not willing to give up. Maybe it’s a breed of happiness we are not able to get otherwise. Maybe we have become so comfortable that we are afraid to leave them behind. 

In the long run, giving up these unhealthy or sinful addictions would improve our quality of life and possibly provide us with opportunities and new happinesses we could’ve never imagined. But that’s just the point isn’t it? We can't imagine it right now. Fear of the unknown. We don’t want to give up what is comfortable for us and what we know for something we are unsure of. I guess it’s all about faith. We’ll get nowhere without it. We’ll sit in our same comfortable spot in life without progressing. We’ll never even know what we’re missing out on. 

Take Taco Bell for example. Where’d I come up with that example? Oh ya, I just ate it and died a little inside. Mmm that mild sauce gets me. It gets me better than my friends do. I mean take a gander at this collection. 

**the part of my collection I could hold.

It gives me tummy aches from hell. But that hasn’t stopped me from stuffing handfuls in my purse and adding it to every non-dessert (even maybe some dessert) food I eat. Taco Bell is yummy and comfortable and I have never been ready to leave it behind. Tonight, though, I hit rock bottom. I was hungry. Taco Bell was cheap and easy (just like your mom), and I knew it would taste good. Yes, I could’ve cooked a healthy meal. But I was scared. I mean what if I passed out with hunger before it was ready? What if it didn't TASTE YUMMY?!?! (If you know me, you know I’m all about the yum). But tonight I made a decision, once and for all, to give up my beloved T-Bell. I know I’ll miss it, but it’ll get easier with time. I know every time I see a reminder (like a taco, or a bell)  it’ll hurt a little bit and I will be tempted to revert back to my ways. But I have faith that my body will be feeling healthier and happier soon enough with this change, and that will keep me going.

So yes, stepping out of our comfort zone to better ourselves and improve our lives might hurt at first. It might get worse before it gets better. Giving up addictions, no matter their size, is always hard. But I’ve learned that life is all about developing delayed gratification. Doing the hard thing now to secure a better future. It’s how we have healthy bodies, healthy minds, good educations, satisfying careers, quality relationships. It’s how we develop real, long-lasting happiness. 

So you know what, let’s stop finding ourselves on the metaphorical (hey, or literal) bathroom floors waiting for something to shoot out one of our ends. We can do better.

What I Learned from the Spider at Work

I was sitting there in my office chair on the phone with a client...when it all began. I saw something hanging from the ceiling. SPIDER! (I can't explain this, but when spiders are hanging from the ceiling, their creep factor is multiplied by five thousand.) My heart rate shot up. It noticed me noticing it. It started twitching. Then I started twitching. I was answering the client’s questions as best as anyone could, you know, when facing looming death. I was making noises as if I was dodging a missile attack (I mean I might as well have been). The client was not amused. Dial tone. Toss the phone. Oh no...WHERE’D HE GO??? The Marilyn Manson of spiders was nowhere to be found. After jogging a couple laps around the front lobby, shaking like a wet dog, and slapping my entire body twice, I decided my noises and twitching had scared him away (If I had a nickel for every time I said that...). 

I went back to work. Entered some tests, answered some phone calls, did some filing. Then I had to go to the bathroom, so I put up the sign saying I would return shortly. I’m washing my hands in the bathroom, checking myself out in the mirror, when I see my hair moving. My body tenses up, and as my face slowly moves closer to the mirror, I see him. Creepy McGee prowling around on my scalp. Without time for my mind to register what my body was about to do, my hand reached up, grabbed the spider, and placed it in the sink. Woah... who am I, crocodile dundee? If you would’ve asked me a few minutes before what I would've done if a spider was in my hair, my answer would have been something like.... “Pass out so my mind doesn’t have to endure this kind of trauma.”....or “Stop, drop, and roll until I’m 100% positive the spider could not have lived through that many rolls.”......or “Give up on life. It’s just not worth it.”

But no. The moment came and I rose up to the occasion. I rose up and above that dang occasion. Seriously, if anyone can think of a way I could’ve possibly handled the situation better, let it be known.

So the lesson here is, if you’re terrified to do something, afraid of the impending future, don’t be. The strength will come. The strength you didn’t know you had will appear when you need it most. 

God (or in my case adrenaline) will never leave you high and dry.

....ya, imagine that in spider form.

(most regretted google image search of my life- Marilyn Manson. and I've had some big regretters)