The Farting Man

So, I went out on a date last night.

You know that any story is going to end badly when I write those dreaded eight words; "I went out on a date last night."

I decided that we should go to the Little Bear, a fantastic bar here in Evergreen. It is small and divey and always has a band playing, the food is good bar food and it reminds me a bit of the bar in Northern Exposure.

All that Little Bear loveliness aside, Little Bear is my turf (so to speak) and I feel comfortable there.

Ok, a little bit about this date (the person, not event). He's a financial investor man of some sort that does things with money and numbers and reports it to someone. He loves to talk on the phone, he's originally from Montana, has two cats (red flag) is in his 40's and never been married (red flag). He is a VERY NICE guy.

Its his voice. Christmas (sigh). You know the game show, "The Price is Right?" His voice and inflection are eerily similar to the guy who calls down the contestants and eventually tells them (if they're lucky) what they've won! "MMMAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRYYYYYYYYYY JOOOOOOOOOO BUUUTTTTAAAFFFOOOOCOOOOO! C'mon down!" It got to the point that whenever we spoke on the phone I was disappointed that I didn't win a new car.

For once (ask my seester, how I'm not known for being punctual) in my life I was on time. At the Little Bear by 630. He, was not. He was 20 minutes late! Just as I was starting to come to the harsh reality that I've been stood up he calls me to tell me that he is parking his car and will be there in two minutes.

Ok, so he walks in and immediately after the "hellos" he says, "I'm so glad that you're thin!"

Huh?

Well, as it turns out his last date was overweight, he referred to her as "Jabba the Hut." I tried to casually remind him that I wasn't one of his dudes that he was hanging out with and talking smack about some woman that we were actually on a date and, well, not so much on the good first impression. After 15 minutes of listening to him talk about this poor woman I decided that a rescue phone call would be necessary and made my way to the bathroom to call Emily.


Phone call made, rescue efforts to begin in t-minus 20 minutes.

Back at the bar and we're (I am) chatting it up and suddenly, from out of nowhere he farts! Totally unintentional because he didn't do the "one cheek lift" to let 'er rip. IT WAS SO LOUD! He said "excuse me" and then asked me a question about whatever it is I was talking about. I had to think of dying animals so I wouldn't laugh and eventually pee in my pants.

The group sitting next to us at the bar MOVED TO THE OTHER SIDE OF THE BAR and sent me over a shot of whiskey (Jackson, the world's dreamiest bartender filled them in on this being my first date with this guy). Thankful for the shot I, well, drank it, duh and then..."Oh! Is that my phone?"

Emily _ "Hi, this is Emily, you're emergency phone call."
Me_ "Mom?! Is everything ok? Well, of course I can come home. I know, I'll fix it don't worry. Just let me finish up here and I'll be back in a little bit."
Emily_ "Ok, well, text me when you get home."
Me_ "Ok, see you in a bit."

We finished up our drinks and he walked me to my car. Thankfully, I didn't feel a Heisman moment coming on but he did give me a hug that made me wonder if he was trying to squeeze the life out of me. He hugged me so hard that I had to do the "pats on the back" thing to let him know that hugging time had concluded. I wonder if it was similar to "tapping out" in cage fighting? I'll have to ask Cage Fighter. Remind me.

This morning I woke up to a text from the Farting Man. He had a good time and was wondering if I wanted to see a movie later in the week.

Not really, Farting Man.

xo

When Ignorance Really is Bliss.

Hey DAD! You may not want to read this particular blog! There's an Ann Coulter email list that you can get on Facebook! Do that instead, ok?

Tati. Yeah, you'll just hate him even more.

Ok, here goes.

I have this, we'll call it information, on the man who broke my heart. No, forget that. Beating around the bush (pardon the pun which will come (again, sorry) further along) isn't going to work.

So. Yeah. Dbag emailed me a picture of his erect wang and then emailed me a 24 second video of himself spanking the monkey while moaning my name. Ummm...what?!

While I am certain that most women (because they are sane) would've simply deleted the offending picture and video after sharing it with friends and having a good laugh, I have let it take over my thoughts for the past few days and not for the reasons you may think. Perverts.

Well, the first thing I did when I got the picture was quickly text message Cristina, Melissa and Rooster. Then when I got the video I tried to send it to Cristina but I got an error message "FILE TOO LARGE," which is probably the nicest compliment the computer could've given Dbag.

After lots of giggling the questioning began.

1. Why would he send me this?
2. Does he think I'm a gay man? (I checked with my gays and most told me that this kind of thing would turn them on.)
3. What kind of person does he think I am that he would send me this?
4. Should I send this to Lisa (Dbag's new girlfriend)?

I mean, wouldn't she want to know that her boyfriend is videotaping himself choking the chicken and sending it to his ex? I know that I would want to know.

Or would I?

Looking back on my relationship with Dbag I really wish (and I mean it) that we would've ended some other way. I wish I never found out about his infidelities or "sext" and email messages to other women, I wish I never knew any of that stuff because before all that things were perfect (I'm not crazy here folks, I know they really weren't) and I was happy. Blissfully ignorant of what was going on around me. A Love Alzheimers patient. No clue as to what was happening, just happy.

Now that I know (which, sure, ok, fine, is better than not knowing) I am questioning all that good stuff that we shared. All the tenderness. All the schmoopiness. All the stuff that makes watching romantic comedies bearable because you think, "Yeah, that's good but not as great as what I've got!" How can I tell what was real and what wasn't? Do I dismiss it all? Do I parse it out in "good" and "bad" piles? Eff if I know.

As you know ever since Love Karma bent me over the truth chair and donkey punched me I'm trying to get better at this relationship stuff. I'm also trying to be more mindful of what I "put out there" in the world and how it effects other people. I know that if I were to send the picture and video to Lisa that it would accomplish one thing; Lisa would cry. Crap, I'd probably cry as well.

Why would I cry? Well, I suppose I would cry because I know that Lisa is right now, as I type, in blissfully ignorant love and well, I would be ruining that. I know how hard I cried over that guy and I'm not so sure he deserves anyone else's tears. Sure as hell isn't getting anymore of mine.

But maaaaaaannnnn I really, really, really wanted to send this stuff to Lisa. You know as one last final double finger to the Dbag.

I won't. I'm deleting the picture and the video.

Just as soon as I'm finished posting them to Redtube.

xo

Good Karma (not just the yummiest coffee place in Philly anymore)!

I've been doing some thinking lately about this whole love fiasco thing I've had going on for the past year and I've come up with a theory; Love Karma has come back around to bitch slap me, several times over.

I won't bore you (read- humiliate myself) with all my love sagas but I will sum it up for you. Most of you will disagree...I hope.

I was kind of a bitch. Well, not "kind of a bitch," I was a bitch. A love bitch to be exact.

See, I won't name names but I've had some REALLY great boyfriends in the past that for some reason or another I've discarded. One in particular was the perfect boyfriend and what did I do? Well, instead of ending our relationship (for no good reason) and giving it the respect that he and our relationship deserved I ignored him. Who does that? A love bitch, that's who.

Now, (sigh) that wasn't the first time I pulled a stunt like that, it may have been (if my count is correct) the third time.

Peter. Ahhh...Peter. Tall, handsome, super nice teeth, super nice guy, always good to me. One day, can't explain why but I stopped calling him. Stopped returning his phone calls, didn't respond to his emails, just fell off the face of the earth. Eventually, I ran into him again and we became friends. Why he would want to be my friend after such disgusting behaviour is beyond me but I'm happy he's forgiven me.

Before that was (gotta change his name) Mr. Darcy. Mr. Darcy and I were hot and heavy and having so much fun until one day I sent him an email...that's right, an email that pretty much read, "Thanks for the laughs! Seacrest out." Totally random, out of left field, I'm sure he wasn't expecting it because I didn't even know it until I sent the email. It took YEARS for Mr. Darcy to speak to me again, but he did and now he's one of my best friends.

I think what is most despicable is that the common thread through all three of these relationships was the exchange of "I love you."

Oddly, all three of these men still speak to me. One guy, who fell into the dangerous category of "dater person" told me that it was a gift I had, a sort of talent, I hurt mens feelings and they came back for more. Unfortunately, I was more than happy to oblige.

So, my theory is that all the bad love juju, karma, vibes and such that I had put out there into the world has come back to haunt me.

How do I fix this? Can I? If I don't fix this am I be destined to live a life of bad love juju?

Happy New Me!

So, here is the quick and dirty of why I left Philadelphia. It seems to be the question on everyone's mind (well, ok, not EVERYONE) so here goes. Ready?

Love. Stupid, fucked up love. No, I didn't relocate to be with the man I love but relocated to get away from the man I shouldn't love. Before my dad and brother go all chicken killer on him, no, he didn't beat me just couldn't keep his wang in his pants. An affliction I am finding is all too common amongst the menfolk.

However, even after his wang wandered, I accepted his apology and fell back into mad, tragic love. Ugh. Where had my self esteem and self worth gone? Did I sell them for rent money?
Who knows. So, in order to get my life on a healthy track I had to get the hell out of Dodge. So, here I am.

Life here in Colorado does not suck, not even a little. I'm living with my cousin in a wonderful home that is tucked away in the mountains (my view every morning is of the Continental Divide) in a small town that is reminiscent of "Northern Exposure." Every morning, Darby (2d best dog ever!) and I go for a walk down to the coffee shop (which is literally through the woods and situated next to a lake) where we pick up a Chai Tea and chat with Howard. I try to fill the rest of my day with studying and exercise.

Exercise in Colorado is amazing. Ok, you can confine yourself to a gym...if you're a freak! Living so close to the lake I have discovered a new form of exercise; ice skating. Snowshoeing? If you've never tried I highly recommend it. Your butt will thank you. Running? Ok, first I needed to get used to the fact that air molecules at this elevation weren't exactly bumping into each other but after that, incredible trails, amazing views and as a bonus I got much faster once I saw my first mountain lion.

When I first arrived in Colorado, I'm talking fresh off the plane, I was greeted by an older gentleman in a cowboy hat who was giving directions to baggage claim. Unlike any other airport personnel I've ever encountered he was genuinely happy to help! This holds true for everyone else in Colorado not just those in the service industry. People here are so friendly that jaded Easterners like myself could get suspicious.

Ok, another example of friendliness. Driving down the street, the pedestrians wave at you. Not a "Help, I'm being followed" kind of wave, just a "Hello! Nice to see you!" kind of wave.

I like it.

More importantly, for me, not you, well, maybe you, I suppose it depends on how well you know me. I'm smiling again. Really, really smiling again. I'm happy. That is something I haven't been able to say for a long time.

xo