CONFESSIONS OF A FAT GIRL

Any Takers?

Um, yeah... I'm gonna let this one speak for itself. But just to be clear (and because my mother ocassionally reads my blog), I did NOT respond to this guy:

 

The Baby-Making Madness ACTUALLY Continues (And it really, really shouldn't)

In reference to my post earlier today... Well, I'm afraid he turned up. With text messages.

As I no longer feel ANY inclination to give him privacy, I'm sharing:

 

Him: Hi. 

Minutes later...

Him: Hello?

Again, minutes later...

Him: You are quiet today. 

Him: Silly. 

 

SILLY?! Oh, HELL NO.... 

 

Me: No, I am not being silly. We are not meant to be, ok? Best of luck to you. Bye. 

Him: So silly! 

Me: I'm not kidding. Leave me alone. Go away. Don't ever contact me again.

 

I don't think I could have said it another way. Here's hoping he takes the hint...

Silly my ass. 

"No, I will not have your babies, but thanks for asking."

Yes, you read that title right. 

In a shocking new development, I have joined a couple of dating sites. 

And out of misplaced respect for the latest CREEP to trample on my heart, I will spare you some of the more inane details. 

But here's the gist of it:

A guy I went out with ONCE, who sent me some of the nicest e-mails, proceeded to tell me I should get pregnant. With his progeny. Like NOW. 

I'm gonna let that sink in for a sec...

 

 

I KNOW! I was stunned, too!

 

 

Seriously, the guy wants to know if I'm on the pill, AND, if not, tells me I should STAY OFF OF IT. Apparently homeboy wants to be a daddy. Like precisely NOW. And I guess I was the lucky girl chosen to grant him this wish. 

I feel slightly like a host body. (Yeah, yeah, I watch too much Star Trek. "The Host" was an excellent episode. Shut up.)

Among a vast myriad of reasons why I will not be having his babies, CHIEF AMONG THEM are:

• ONE DATE. 
• I do not even know where he works.
• He has not even told me his last name. (Although, to be honest, I did Facebook stalk him and find it.)
• He couldn't even tell you MY last name or, I imagine, what frickin' color my eyes are. 
• We kind of skipped over the whole FALLING IN LOVE part.
• ONE DATE. 

Do I really need to go on?

Readers, I am trying to keep an open mind and shift my standards as I venture out into the dating world yet again, but I think I'm being MORE THAN FAIR in saying this guy is a GRADE-A, CERTIFIABLE, DERANGED LOON. 

B'bye, Spawn-hunter-boy. It was (sort of) fun while it lasted. 

I wish you and your future, probably-equally-crazy, baby-mama a happy and healthy something-or-another. 

 

Much Laughter

This is just a quick entry.

Let's just say on an unnamed dating website, I was just solicited by an older man. Well, not too much older -- 41 (I'm 30).

I looked at his profile.

Career? CHURCH LEADER.

Upon further research? Reverend. I guess the kind that is allowed to date.

Now I'm not anti-religion. I'm just anti-too much religion for myself. So my response to this has to be tasteful and respectful.

Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha

hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha

hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha

No, I guess I can't send that.

I will just check the "not interested" box.

TGIF. Godspeed.

Happiness and Thank You

I have to thank you, readers. Some of you left the most amazing comments or sent some super flattering e-mails. I am amazed when I get feedback like that. Clearly, I am a lucky blogger.

The truth is, my self esteem is in the toilet. I mean, let's not kid ourselves, we all have our issues, but I feel like in the last few months, I've allowed myself to sink lower and lower... I was asked out on a date and it sent me into total panic. When I woke up today, I was unable to face the world and promptly went right back to sleep. I was sick to my stomach and being totally unreasonable. I totally admit this. I was curled up on the couch all afternoon, watching Golden Girls reruns and eating leftovers.

And when I finally had to get ready, I had to force myself. I had shaky legs all the way there and up the escalator from the parking lot. But when I saw him, and he handed me a rose (A rose!), I felt a little better. And then when he held the door open for me and places his hand on the small of my back, I felt a little better... when dinner ended and he was still sitting there, I felt relief.

And during the movie, when he slid his arm around my waist, and then later held my hand, better still.

It was a tremendous evening. All the worrying for nothing, I guess. Not that it ever goes away completely...  I like him very much already and am giving myself permission to feel optimistic. He's already asked me out again...

On the way home, my iPod was on random and this song came on called "I'm Not Afraid of Anything." I have to admit to you I actually shouted the lyrics, beaming, and by the time the song ended, I was crying with happiness. It was a great feeling. God, I cannot remember the last time I cried because I was HAPPY.

Pep Talk!

Ok, muffins, have date tomorrow night and am terribly nervous. Have profound fear of rejection.

So now would be a good time for a pep talk. I welcome you to bring it.

OMIGOD - what do I wear???

I just like him so much. And in my mind he's perfect (isn't this a scene in Good Will Hunting?) and I'd hate to ruin that by meeting in person...

So There.

There is NOTHING better, nothing more flattering, than a guy running his hands over the outline of your body, every single curve of it, and telling you that you're sexy.

Some days, it does not suck to be me.

That is all.

P.S. (I was clothed. Get your minds out of the gutter, poppets.)

Settled

So, I could have sworn I wrote an entry about what happened with the aforementioned date-boy and what ended up happening but I left that out, didn't I? I forgot to mention how I settled because I was suddenly afraid to be alone and thought just anyone at all was better than no one. I was with a guy for two months (or a little more than that) who wouldn't lay more than a hand on my back when he almost-hugged me.

Sent him packing. It took some time to summon the courage, but I let him go and have not looked back. In fact, I feel proud of myself for finally learning a lesson about the situation and about myself and for standing up for myself.

And strangely, I met someone soon after. In two dates, I felt more strongly for him than I have about anyone among the parade of losers whom have crossed my path this past year. He told me I was sexy and beautiful and couldn't wait to kiss me and hug me and rub my back... I like being with him so much that somehow, he renewed my faith in how being alone is also okay. Somehow knowing guys like him are still around, makes it okay to be alone... for now.

I don't know how much more I will get to see of this new man. He has a really demanding career and he's got some other issues... But I'll be thinking about him for a while, I'm sure.

It felt horrible knowing I'd settled because I did not value myself enough to know I didn't have to. So I think even if I don't end up being with this guy, I'll be able to get over it because I didn't act like an asshole.

Does that even make any sense? I swear it sounded really profound and meaningful in my head...

Let's all toast to a great year. Here's to 2009. May it be better than last year. May I find some peace, happiness, friendship... and a wee bit more self respect. HA!

Not in a car, nor in a tree; it was not to come to pass for me.

I had to cancel my date today.

I've been down in the dumps lately but especially the last few days since I got some news on Thursday that upset me. Nothing life threatening - just a couple of medical pains in the ass. A thyroid problem that will not only not quit, but insists on deteriorating and will now land me on a steady course of MORE drugs and an apparent susceptibility to GOUT- something only old people get (I'm super lucky).

Really, they should study me in schools.

I'm not proud of myself. I'm certainly not trying to escape my responsibilites in this matter. I am an educated woman and so it is easy for me to realize these are problems that are fixable and so, clearly, I will fix them. My health is now suffering immensely and I have to stop lying to myself- that things will somehow get better if I just remain patient. I'll have to stop slacking. I really, really will.

I had to spend the weekend at my parents' house. We've been getting along rather well lately and I didn't mind so much and it was wonderfully convenient for me with all the things I was doing out by their house this weekend. Far easier than a lot of driving back-n-forth, obviously. It wasn't a big deal anyway, you know, since I had all these plans and really, didn't see much of them anyhow. But Saturday before I left, my mom convinced me to cancel my Sunday date to spend the day with my family and my ailing grandfather. I mean, you can't very well say no to that- he's sick and I haven't seen him in a while.

Sunday morning, I woke up and wandered downstairs for juice (I swear, I never drink juice unless I wake up in their house) and found both of my parents in the kitchen. They were just chatting about what we would do that day but they were happy to pause so that my father could dig into my recent medical problems and remind me I am the fattest I've ever been and, by the way, "so fat you can hardly walk."

As I'd just walked all the way from the bedroom to the kitchen, imagine my surprise and humiliation at this comment. I reacted with maturity and grace, though- don't worry. I promptly turned, left the room, and curled up on the couch for a good cry.

And as I caught the end of "Father of the Bride" on Showtime, I cried harder, seeing how fake dad Steve Martin looked at his fake daughter, Kimberly Williams. I cried, feeling in my soul that surely, my real father would never ever look at me the way fake-father-on-TV looked at fake-bride-daughter.

And then I was suddenly BURNING with rage that I'd cancelled my date.

Date-boy was understanding (he said he could not compete with anyone's grandpa) and promised a raincheck, by the way.

I spent the rest of my day ten feet behind my family (literally- we were at the mall, shopping for a suit for my brother- an adequate way to entertain my grandfather, it seems), sulking and fighting back tears. When we got back to the house, I waited precisely 2 seconds before declaring I was leaving, grabbing my things and flying out the door. My dad patted me on the back as I refused to face him or hug him good-bye as I usually would.

I cried the whole drive home. I'm not saying that to evoke pity, though- I just want you to picture driving in traffic and looking casually to the left to see your neighbor blubbering and red-faced and banging an angry hand on the armrest. This was the experience of many an LA driver today, boys and girls.

But I came home, I ate something shockingly healthy, and I've rested. I feel better now and less angry, though still sorry I cancelled my date which, actually, I'd rather started to look forward to because you all sent such nice comments after my previous entry. I promise to hold date-boy to his raincheck promise and keep you all current on the sitch as it develops. And Mel tells me, "don't be afraid to be the rejector." Thank you, Mel. That was actually the proverbial nail in the coffin when I wasn't sure I should go for it. You are right.

Please do not post "your parents suck" comments over and over, friends. They mean well (I hope and I think) and I sense that every now and then, my father just needs to get a comment like this out to somehow alleviate a massive bacterial blockage in his chest. That's my preposterous theory and I am sticking to it.

No More Talking About my Crazy Family!

I am not going on about this craziness anymore. I realized later this afternoon that you know what? I just don't care. When my father was yelling at me, I sort of shut myself off, just kept saying "uh-huh" and "okay" and "yes, you're right" like a frickin' robot and maybe 20 minutes after my last post, I realized I handled it well. I thought I was gonna cry a couple times but I didn't. And then someone at the office made me laugh and I just realized that in the grand scheme of things, I don't care anymore. It's like listening to a broken record.

So anyway, let's talk about something far more interesting. Men? Dating? Sex?

I've been trying out the Match.com thing. It's not going well. I "wink" at people, I write notes, I surf that site like it's my J-O-B and just.... squat. Oh, but I have gotten a few polite rejections. I lowered my standards just a wee bit to hit on some guys I might not normally chase but still: nada. C'est la vie. But I am signed up for a 3 month membership so I'll keep at it and let you know how it's going.

There was one guy I was chatting with on the IM, then met for coffee but when he left me a voicemail the next day, BELCH included? Yeah, so long Match-boy. He had a lazy eye anyway which, quite frankly, I was willing to try and look past (pardon the pun) but it was distracting and sorta creepy.

I have tried a couple things on my profile. I've selected "curvy" and then "a few extra pounds" and then used "BBW" but still- no bites.

The entire thing still sort of fascinates me though, all the same, and I am considering trying a DIFFERENT website when this well runs dry. I've had a couple friends who've had luck with eHarmony but I heard it's Christian-based so I don't know how I feel about that. I am not opposed to religions, of course, just to crazy jesus-freaks who are gonna shun me for being an Agnostic Jew. (In my head I imagine them shouting "SINNER!!!" and throwing holy water at me.)

Someone else mentioned eChemistry? Or Chemistry... Something like that? What do you guys like?

I am really looking forward to this weekend and maybe spending Sunday at the zoo. I love the animals and it's a fun way to get some exercise while I'm doing something unique.

I had a sensible lunch today- again, another meal I wanted to brag about. I am contemplating dinner as we speak and can't really get excited about anything as I am le tired. However, I may nosh on some of the canteloupe I bought the other night I couldn't finish.