The Wee Man, Serpico and How Not to Act When Meeting Your Best Guy Friend's Girlfriend.

Ahh...CHOO!
I'm not feeling well, pretty sure I have a disease of the ear, nose and throat. So, please forgive me if I ramble; (or use semicolons inappropriately) I'm on a TheraFlu high.

So, let me tell you about the "Wee Man" or better known in some circles as "Yellow T-shirt guy." Ok, so if you read, "The Farting Man" you know that I was once, when I first moved here, on eHarmony. It seemed like a good idea at the time.

Ok, so Wee Man was also on the "e" and had sent me a request to open communication. His pictures were pretty cute, his profile was fun and clever and most importantly, his height was listed as 5'10".

Wee Man and I answered each others questions, emailed back and forth, and finally moved on to the "secure phone call" stage of our budding eHarmoniness. Eventually, we arranged to meet at my favorite Evergreen bar, "The Little Bear" for drinks and a bite to eat. Oh...this is back on New Years Day. Ok, so I get there, he's late. I have a seat at the bar (because sitting across from someone is too interviewy) when out of the corner of my eye I see a man who looks suspiciously like the guy from eHarmony. Ok, so it is at this point that I begin to pray that I'm wrong. He's wearing an acid washed jean jacket, um...matching jeans and a t-shirt. He pops over and I slide off the bar stool to say hello.

Ok, I don't have to tell you that he got the nickname the "Wee Man" because he was towering over me. I am 5'7" and 3/4 and he was shorter than me. Like waaaayyy shorter than me. He must've realized the fact that I didn't lie about my height and said, "I had a dream last night that you were a whole head taller than me!" I just laughed it off but really wanted to say, "Dreams really do come true!"

I need to say that my real problem with his height is that he lied about it. I mean, really. Did he think I wouldn't notice? C'mon. I just finished dating a liar and wasn't in the market for a new one.

Ok, so in his hand he is holding a plastic bag.

"I brought you something" he says.

"Wow! Thanks! Ok, let's take a look."

From out of the plastic bag I pull a box of chocolate (yum!) and a yellow t-shirt that has the city "Cleveland" written on the front of it in black lettering.

"Oh." I say, a bit thrown off. "What made you think to bring me a Cleveland t-shirt?"

His response, "I thought you'd like it."

Of course, I assured him that I did.

Ok. Now, I'm not from Cleveland. He's not from Cleveland. We never discussed Cleveland. Ever.

So, we're sitting at the bar and I'm carrying on the conversation. Like full on carrying the conversation. I had to go into Matlock mode to get this man to talk. When I wasn't talking...crickets...

Apparently he didn't understand my frustration with the situation (at one point, I just stopped talking and proceeded to chew my food at him) because when we were getting ready to go he was all about trying to touch the small of my back as if to escort me from the bar to my car. So, I moved a bit faster.

When we got to my car, I hopped in while saying, "Thanks, that was fun!" shutting the door behind me.

He knocked on the window and asked, "What, no kiss goodnight."

"Sorry, " I said, "I don't kiss on the first date." (Lie)

Then he said...

Wait for it...

Seriously...

Get ready...

"Then can I get my t-shirt back?"

Not sure what he may have said after that because I just drove away.

Wow. This is one long post!

Ok, on to Serpico.

Serpico didn't get his name until I was telling this story to Rooster.

Ok. So, eHarmony strikes again.

Serpico and I exchange questions and answers, emails and move to the secure phone call. This man gave GREAT phone. Our conversations were really great and fun and funny!

We agree to meet, this time not at The Little Bear but in the Highlands area of Denver.

I get lost (typical) so I'm a bit late. When I finally get there I see him sitting at the bar and am pleasantly surprised that he really does resemble his pictures- kind of Tim Robbins looking. Very cute. I'm excited!

Until we are actually having a conversation.

At one point in our horrific discussion he told me about the time he pulled a blanket out of his dog's arse. I'm not kidding. I can't even type the other things he talked about because...well, the entire conversation was a tale in terror. Trust me.

So, the check comes and he grabs it, looks at it and says, "Your half is..." and with that I smacked both of my hands on the table and almost shouted, "You made me listen to a story about pulling a blanket out of a dog's ass! The least you can do is buy me dinner!"

He laughed, agreed and paid.

Rooster and I decided that the name "Serpico" suited him because the jacket he was wearing could've been the one from the movie.

Ok, this may be too long so I'll just sum up the last part about "How Not to Act..."

Petulant.

Even if she has an oversized nose you must be on your best behaviour.

Even if she's all up in your kitchen and over the top friendly.

Even if she says something unflattering about one of your friends, well, no, not then.

And before you say, "Oh, you're just jealous."

No, asshole, I'm not.

There's a difference.

Can you keep a secret?

Friday afternoon, shortly after returning from my run, I was sitting at my desk chowing on some quinoa and basil when my secretary (am I the only one who is floored by the fact that someone else answers my phone?), Christine walks into my office looking rather sheepish.

"Don't be mad, " she says.

"Why?"

"I signed you up for something."

"Ok. What?"

"This." She throws an internet printout at me and scampers out of my office.

WELCOME TO THE ROCKY MOUNTAIN SINGLES CLUB!

At least it isn't an "Association."

Well, what Chris doesn't know and what I'm asking you to keep a secret is this;
I'm not looking for love.

What you don't have to keep a secret is this; I'M BACK BITCHES!

I've taken the time to mope and be all sad and shit and quite frankly, it was boring. I was boring. So, I've decided to go back to the time in my life when I was the most focused and the happiest. Now, I'm concentrating on Career, Finances and Health.

If you'll notice, "Friends" isn't on that list. Well, when you're working on your career, finances and health friends just come pretty naturally and don't stand as obstacles in the way of your goals. Romantic entanglements, well, that's another story.

Right now, I've got stuff I want to do, people I want to see and I don't need some guy acting all schmopey and glommin' on to my shit!

So, last night I was on the phone with Rooster and he reminded me of the following, "When you're not looking for love, it finds you." To that I have to say the following, "Love, keep your shit to yourself. I'm seriously not interested. At all. Go bug someone else."

But to be honest, I'm nervous. Last time I declared myself off the love market I ended up getting married a few months later. As you could've guessed, the marriage was short lived.

So, here's the deal. I'm going to continue on with my "Jenny from the Block" plan- getting my career,finances and health rocking. I am also going to continue dating...DATING. Not boyfriend/girlfriend stuff. Dating. Having fun. I think my problem with the last time I declared myself no longer shopping in the love store I went cold turkey. My game was off, my guard was down, not good.

This time I have a plan.

Breaking News!

Or perhaps I should've titled this one, "Forgiveness. It isn't just a river in China."

So, quick update to answer a few questions about the Dbag drama. As for communication...after I sent the email, photos and video off to Lisa I blocked the both of them from my gmail and Facebook. For all I know they could be hounding me everyday for more porn and I just don't know it.

Regina asked me how it made me feel to send off the email. Well, (sigh) at first pretty darn good. Good in that way when you know you've just effed with someone's karma, actually became the catalyst of pain for them. Ummm...wow, that reads like I'm kind of crazy. Like, chicken killer crazy. Huh.

I suppose I was chicken killer crazy for a few days. I think anyone who has had their heart broken can relate that sometimes you really want to make the breaker feel as bad as you do. You know, sometimes you can go all Carrie Underwood on the breaker's ass and other times, well, it may not be destruction of personal property but destruction of ego.

So. I have this cousin, she's pretty great. I'll call her...oh...Mrs. Huggins! She's pretty cool, you'd like her. Mrs. Huggins and I have some pretty great conversations in which I learn more about the person I want to be. I can't say that I was too shocked to learn that Mrs. Huggins wasn't exactly a fan of my email behaviour. In a nutshell, and she's right, from the beginning when I realized the person that he really was I should've said (and I think I'm quoting this accurately) "Fuck you! Have a nice life." and walked away never to be heard from again.

She's right.

Sending that email was beneath me. It doesn't really speak to the person I am (or am trying to become). Ok, think about it. In the Carrie Underwood video "Before He Cheats" she jacks up his car (something with her key, carved her name in the upholstery, smashed his headlights, slashed his tires) do you really think when he found his "pretty little souped up four wheel drive" in a state of disrepair he stood back, tapped his forefinger to his upper lip and thought aloud, "You know, she's got a point."? Probably not.

My sending that email didn't make him sit back and regret the way he treated me. It isn't like he learned a lesson (aside from don't send your ex girlfriend nudie pics) from this experience.

But I did and that's all that counts.

The lesson I think we should all take away from this is the following: You (I mean, you, yes, you!) are way too awesome to be hung up on someone who isn't hung up on you. As my dear Mrs. Huggins reminds me, "Standards are high!"

So, if some tall balding man tells you that you're his soulmate while he is dipping his toodle in some other womans hoo haa..."FUCK YOU! Have a nice life."

That woman who came to spend the holiday with you, acts like she loves you then refuses to commit..."FUCK YOU! Have a nice life."

So. Ok, on to the forgiveness portion of this blog entry.

About a month ago I got to experience what it was like to forgive and be forgiven all at the same time. Without going into too much detail a very dear friend of mine and I had a bizarro couple of weeks where neither of us acted like civilized human beings (behaviour not befitting of a debutante!) so after a few (dozen) nasty emails we cut off communication. I'm not sure either of us understood what happened or why but for some reason we actively disliked each other until one day she sent me an email wishing me well on the Colorado Bar Exam.

Well, we reconnected and when she was in Colorado we got to spend some pretty quality time together. What's strange is that the reconnection was pretty easy and without any apologies exchanged, they were just understood. Anyway, I don't know why she decided to forgive me but I'm happy she did. I sure did miss her.

Deet deet da deet deet...this just in...

Jenifer Woods is once again working as an evil genius. I repeat, Jenifer Woods is working.

Oh. So, next time I'll tell you about the guy I met. I like to call him Serpico.

xoxo

I Did It...All Over Your Face

Hey dad, once again...avert your eyes.

So, here I am all the way in Colorado, minding my own business when my Blackberry makes the submarine noise to alert me that I have a new message. Yay me!

Dbag has sent me ANOTHER video. Of course I watch it, more of the same from last time; yank yank yank...happy birthday! Oh, he wrote a message as well. "I don't know why, but I feel the need to send this to you. Tell me what you think."

Feeling kind of snarky I send him a quick message back, "Nice to see your doing well." That's it. End of story.

Until a few hours ago.

So, here I am all cuddled up in my bed reading my Torts outline when once again, I hear that BB ping...ping...ping...

Dbag, again. However, this time he writes, "Am in love with lisa." I rub my eyes to make sure I just read that correctly. "Am in love with lisa." Huh?

Ok. To make things very clear- I'm not stuck on him anymore. My lack of response to his earlier emails (and there were plenty) should've made that very evident.

So. I'm in bed trying to figure this out. I mean, I don't know about you guys but when I'm in a loving and committed relationship I don't send pictures of my hoo haa to my ex!

BIG SIGH.

I walked over to the computer and pulled up her email address. Clicked on "Compose email" and sat there and thought about what sending this information would do to this woman.

Called Cristina and heard her.

Thought about Rooster and what he'd say.

Thought about my Hindu guy who talked to me for hours about Karma.

I'm pretty sure that when something is right, you know it. Not necessarily in your heart (at least mine because it's a bit busted up right now) but in your gut and while sitting at my computer with an email open and ready to go it was gut check time.

I wrote her a very long email. I started by telling her that I was sorry I was sending her this email but I thought it may be overdue.

I told her about the emails. I told her about the Christmas presents. I told her about the videos and the picture, then I attached all four videos and the picture.

Then I hit send.

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?