Category Archives: To the Guys

Old Men Get Away With Everything

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So I know that I have pretty much abandoned this blog… Primarily due to the realization that I was far more cynical than I should be… Also because I am terribly busy. But I stumbled across this blog that I wrote last year for a friend which was deleted. And I laughed. So I’ve decided to share. Who knows? Maybe this will be a fresh start? More blogs to come perhaps?

He saunters into the gas station, and then stops dead in his tracks. He has never before seen anything like it. So lovely. So refined. The gas station attendant looks like an angel! No wait – better than an angel… Angels tend to be male… This gas station attendant looks like a sexy librarian!!

He cannot hold back. He must say something to her. But what should he say? What does a person say to a sexy librarian working at a gas station? He’s never run into this problem before… Uh… “I love your glasses! They make you look like a sexy librarian.”

The truth stumbles past his lips. She had to find out somehow. How do you add charm to a statement like that anyway? Nevermind – no need to add charm. He is old. Old men are allowed to make completely awkward and inappropriate comments without being charming. It’s that special quality which sometimes causes me to wish I were an old man. They get away with so much…

A white-bearded man dressed as Santa Claus once asked me the stereotypical, “Have you been naughty or nice?” question. I smiled out at him and told him he was supposed to know the answer already.
His eyes twinkled and he declared, “You might get better presents if you were naughty once in a while…”
I suddenly remembered why I hate Santa Claus. Weirdo. Nonetheless, that authentic white hair gives him permission to make such comments. A younger man would not dare.

Old men get away with all kinds of crap.

He can say something raunchy and not get slapped. A girl would feel terrible if she knocked out his dentures.

He can gawk at her chest and smile broadly. He ignores her hostile glares. If she confronts the rude behavior,
he assures her that his eyesight is poor. He thought he was looking into her eyes. The argument to that obvious lie just leads to an even more awkward conversation, so the girl shuts her mouth and continues to glare.

He can invite a perfect stranger out to dinner. Years ago he lost all of the pride and self-respect that causes younger men to halt for fear of rejection. He expects her to decline his invitation – but she just might say “yes”. He’s got nothing to lose.

He can refer to random cashiers and waitresses as “honey”, “sweetie”, or “dear” – or even call one his “girlfriend” and we females don’t have it in us to break his fragile, elderly heart and tell him not to use such terms of endearment. Besides, he probably gives the biggest tips. He has nothing more important to spend his money on.

He can fall over some invisible obstacle and five beautiful women will rush to his aid. They will hold his hands, pat his forehead, usher him to a comfortable chair. The same women would smirk and walk away from a young man who trips over that same “invisible obstacle”.

He can flirt shamelessly, and then tell a story about his devoted wife in the next sentence. Somehow the flirting is brushed off and he comes across as “very sweet” for complimenting his wife of 30,000 years.

He can use provocative words and make suggestive jokes. The girl glances over his knee high socks and red suspenders and decides those words mean something completely different to his generation. She must be misinterpreting.

Let’s face it: An old man can say just about anything to a young woman. She won’t do anything to stop him. The best way I know how to respond to this fact of life is to share the stories with my friends so that we can all gag and then laugh in unison. Keep at it, old men. If you say something funny enough, you may reach a girl’s blog someday.

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See Me?

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Open.

Close.

Open?

Close.

See me?

Don’t.

See me?

Stop.

 

Don’t.

Stop.

Don’t stop.

See me.

Close.

See me close.

Stop.

Don’t.

 

Don’t open.

Close.

Stop.

See me?

Open.

Don’t stop.

See me open?

See me close.

 

Don’t stop.

Don’t.

See me.

 

Care.

Don’t.

Don’t care?

Care.

 

Don’t.

Don’t see me.

Care?

Don’t care.

 

Don’t care.

Don’t see me.

Don’t see me care.

Don’t see me.

Commitment-Phobe? Moi?

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Scenario 1

“If we hire you for this position, are you willing to commit for at least one year?”

Wave of terror passes over my face.

“Why is it so important that I stay for a year? Even if I only work here for a short time, I will still be a good worker,” I questioned the man interviewing me. I’m not good at sucking up during interviews. The blunt, confrontational side of me never backs down.

“Sarah, it is a waste of our time to hire and train an employee who will leave the company in less than a year. I need to know if you will commit to at least one year,” he responded. He looked slightly annoyed – but overall he was very patient with me.

I self-talked myself through the decision. Surely I could last a year. I agreed. I may have sounded hesitant; but my word is my word.

Next year will mark my five year anniversary with the same corporation. That interview question, although it threw me into a temporary panic, didn’t turn out to be such a big deal.

 

Scenario 2

Should I do it? Should I not? Should I keep looking? Should I wait? I don’t know. Will I find a better deal? Is this the right place?

On and on the questions soared through my brain. I had a lease to sign. Once again, someone was asking for a year-long commitment. Once again, I was not feeling so hot about the idea.

It’s the right price. Right distance from work. Good parking for my motorcycle. They will let me bring my cat. Why must they insist that I sign a year-long lease? What’s so terrible about month-to-month?

I signed the lease. It’s been a year and a half now.

I don’t really have any intentions to move. Nonetheless, I opted out of renewing my lease. Once I fulfilled the first year they allowed me to rent month-to-month going forward. Why place restrictions upon myself that are not absolutely necessary?

 

Scenario 3

“Hi, I’m Mr. BraveEnoughToAskYouOut. What’s your name?”

This is the kind of guy that automatically goes in for eye contact. I don’t dare call him Mr. CommitmentLover, because he may also be a total commitment-phobe in the typical sense of the term. He may dodge long-term relationships or marriage. He may only be interested in a night of pleasure. But he’s got me beat. Committing to that first date is even too hard for me.

Like I said, he’s brave and he goes in for eye contact. He’s searching: Is she interested? What will she say if I ask her out? Is she checking me out?

I dodge the eye contact.

Yes, I am interested. Yes, I am checking you out. But, don’t even ask that question in between. I dodge the eye contact in an effort to squelch your bravery because your bravery will lead to our dating and our dating will lead to me feeling attached and I don’t want to feel attached. You want me to flirt? Quit acting so interested. (I know I’ve adamantly proclaimed that guys should be brave and pursue. I’m admitting now that I’m a total hypocrite and don’t encourage men to pursue with my actions. Sue me.)

Should Mr. BraveEnoughToAskYouOut happen to continue despite my lack of eye contact… I continue to run. Hang out this weekend? I might be busy this weekend… Not really sure about all my plans yet. Dinner? How about coffee? Coffee doesn’t feel like nearly as big of a commitment as dinner…

 

Okay. In the first two scenarios I was practically forced to commit, despite my reservations. Neither situation turned out too badly. That goes to show that if I actually step out of my comfort zone and go on a real date with a guy I actually like, it may not turn out too badly either. If someone manages to get me past that first step – then maybe it will work out. Like the job and the apartment.

We may end up in a steady dating relationship and I may end up appreciating said relationship.

Or he may cheat on me. Or dump me and leave me desperately heart-broken. Or betray my confidence. Or use me. Or die. Or all of the above.

I think I’d rather dodge eye contact and whine about how men are cowards.

 

Jamaican Me Crazy

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Mmmm….

I like my men the same way I like my coffee: Give me a man with a hazelnut mocha complexion who is sweet, sweet, sweet!

I just returned from Jamaica – a beautiful country known for its coffee. But the coffee isn’t what will stick in my memory… I couldn’t help but wonder why God sent me to this country full of gorgeous black men who like to flirt shamelessly with white women. My brother warned me that I would come home with a big head because Jamaican men love to tell women how beautiful they are. He was right. [As if I needed an ego boost…] To any and all American men who are reading this post, if you need help in the field of charming and/or pursuing women, I suggest you invest in a trip to Jamaica. Sit on the beach and watch. Just watch the men as they interact with the women. You will learn everything you need to know, I promise.

Snorkeling with Darren, the coolest lifeguard ever!!

I was treading water in the ocean and talking with some friends when I accidentally brushed my hand against the lifeguard’s hand. I immediately apologized. He looked at me curiously and asked me what I was apologizing about. I explained and he told me that I should not apologize for touching him. There is nothing wrong with that kind of touch. Then he grabbed my hand and pulled me toward him. Jamaican men are not shy. Although some claimed to be – they lied. They were SO NOT shy. A few may have felt like it compared to other Jamaicans – but stick one of those guys next to an American and he epitomizes bravery.

The lifeguard’s statement was simple. And yet profound. There isn’t anything wrong with touching a person’s hand. Why did I feel the need to apologize? What is there to be afraid of?

I kinda think God sent me to that beautiful island this year in order to loosen me up. God is known for His perfect timing… My trip to Jamaica was no exception.

Reflections: Are You a Leader?

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http://www.cbn.com/700club/features/voiceofhope/

Episode 2 was more primarily aimed toward men. That being said, I’m still going to respond.

First of all, I feel the need to emphasize that more than any other thing – what I want from a man if I am to get married – is godly leadership. I can probably count on one hand the number of men I know that are still single and within my age range whom I can truly view as potential spiritual leaders.

With that in mind, I would like to voice a dilemma. Many of my Christian female friends and I have noticed a devastating truth in the Christian dating scene. Godly men are not pursuing. It’s past the point of “maybe this guy isn’t pursuing me because he simply isn’t interested in me”. It’s quite obvious that these guys aren’t pursuing any women. The ones we find most desirable happen to be the ones who haven’t, to our knowledge, asked a girl out in the last 3 years. The reasoning? They are just “so” into God right now that they don’t want to be distracted by women. I get it. I’ve used the same argument. Here’s the thing: God never said that all dedicated Christians should be single. Yes, there were some very influential singles in the Bible. Yes, Jesus was single. But no where does my Bible say that all the decent Christian men in this world should stop pursuing Christian women. Although I believe the man in the video had the best of intentions, I kind of want to tell him “SHUT UP!!!!!” when he said that men should work harder on “being the right one” than “finding the right one”. He said that becoming the right one will attract Christian women. As a Christian woman who has been “attracted” by these kinds of guys, I want to argue with him and say, “Do one without neglecting the other. Work on becoming the right kind of guy while you find the right kind of girl.” As a Christian girl does not want to have to completely throw herself at you to earn your attention, you are going to have to pursue in order to marry one of us. There is nothing wrong with wanting a wife.  Find one, would you!

Final thought: I kind of didn’t like when he said that non-Christian men will view women as nothing more than trinkets or toys. I think he has a serious point, and that in some cases he may be correct. But I don’t believe that the secular world is completely void of men who value and respect women. That was an overstatement.

Guys, as this video was aimed toward you: What did you think?

And the Fears Emerge

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I can think of at least four men who would help me complete this challenge this very week. And although I’ve been told not to think, just to act – I can’t turn off my mind.

#4. I have no doubts that he is out to use me. He is completely gorgeous. But he’s also a total loser. He’s hit on me several times – but he seems to think that I won’t go out with him because I am a lesbian. I’m not. But I really haven’t argued with him about it because it’s so much easier not to like him when he believes that. And I don’t want to like him. Because he’s a loser. If I hit on him, I’m fairly certain he’d jump at the chance to date me. But I really think he’d be dating me in an effort to take everything from me that he possibly could. Drugs have eliminated his soul and I’d rather not mess around with a guy who has no soul.

#3. He’s rather unreliable, so it might take more than a week to get a date. But I am positive he would make it happen by the end of the month. Probably by the end of the week – because I’ve refused him the last three times and I think he’s getting eager to see me. So if I made a move, I think he’d take the bait right now. He seems like a pretty decent guy, but I can’t count on him for much of anything. I don’t think he knows how to put a relationship first. And he’s made clear that he does not want to get married. I’m not going to stay in any kind of long-term relationship that isn’t geared toward marriage. So I feel like any effort put into dating this guy would just lead to exhaustion, pain, and heartache in the long run. Why bother?

#2. This one also does drugs. But I’m confident that he still has a soul and that he actually cares about me. However, his addiction hinders his life from going forward. He can’t make much more than minimum wage where he works. But he’s told me he won’t really look for another job because other workplaces drug-test. I get along with him quite well. He’s a fabulous person to talk with. But it’s obvious that as long as his life is going nowhere, our relationship would go nowhere. I’d probably enjoy a few dates. But I would dump him quickly. He is the sensitive type. I would feel terrible afterward.

#1. He would follow me to the ends of the earth and do everything humanly possible to please me. I have never met a man quite so determined to be with me. One or two have come close. But he takes the cake. Nonetheless, we do not relate on an intellectual level. He is another one that I know I would dump.

I ran into a guy recently who asked me out months ago. When he asked me out, I tried to explain to him in the kindest way possible why we would not fit well together, and I rejected his offer. He is the type of guy who wears his heart on his sleeve. I knew for some time that he liked me. His face lit up when I entered the room. He went out of his way to do things for me. I knew that eventually he would ask me out and I would have to explain my feelings of disinterest. Unfortunately, after that whole scenario played out, he did not miraculously change into a man who is difficult to read. He still wears his heart on his sleeve. Although it has been months, I hate running into him. When I see him, he looks so miserable. I feel like all he thinks when he sees me is, “There she is. There’s the girl who broke my heart.”

To sum this all up – I am pointing out the two primary reasons I do not date.

A)     I am afraid of being hurt or being used. (This is the issue with #4 and #3.)

B)      I am afraid of hurting or using someone else. (This is the issue with #2 and #1.)

I have a feeling that blog posts to follow over the next few weeks will get more serious than they have been for awhile… I am going to delve into fear.

Love-Struck (Emphasis on Struck)

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It was the day after I accepted the challenge. I crawled out of bed 15 minutes late, wobbled toward the bathroom to take my shower, and then rushed my morning routine in an effort to arrive at work almost at time. My workplace is exactly a 5-minute walk from my apartment. Sad truth is that when I’m tired and lazy in the morning, I often wait until I only have two minutes to get to work and I take my car instead of walking. If I could pull myself out of bed earlier I would walk each day. Or at least the vast majority of the time. I might drive in rain. However, it’s about half and half right now, and that particular day was an “I’m supposed to be at work in a minute and a half!” day. So I bolted out my door, fled down my steps, trotted toward the street, and stopped suddenly at the sight of my car. Insert *jaw dropping open*.

I was dumbfounded. I called work, told them I would be late, and basically panicked over the phone to my co-worker (I don’t know what to do! What should I do? What do you think I should do!?). Then I saw a note stuck under my windshield wiper.

First I assumed it was a ticket – which only added to the panic. I don’t really have the best relationship with PD in this town. But I mentally checked off every possible reason a cop could issue a ticket and cleared myself of that idea. I had done nothing to deserve a ticket.

Then I imagined a short note from the perpetrator stating something like, “Sorry I ruined your car. I don’t have insurance, so I had to go. Hope you get everything straightened out!”

I waddled my tired, but now terrified, body over to the car and grabbed the note. It was from a police officer stating that the person who backed into my car had reported the accident and was basically doing everything in his power to correct his mistake. A police report would be complete and available the next day. The name and number of the man who hit my car was also in the note. Relief washed over me.

I walked to work – feeling grateful for this unknown person’s integrity and also for the fact that I can walk to work.

On the way to my cubicle, I stopped in my friend’s office to show him my pictures and relate my morning’s adventures.  After listening to my explanation, he looks at me with eyebrows raised and says, “Maybe this happened for a reason. This guy sounds honest. Maybe you two were meant to meet…”

That was a guy talking. I thought women were supposed to be the romantics.

By lunchtime, two other coworkers had also suggested I date this random stranger who damaged my car. Might I add that I had not even seen this guy – had no idea how old he was – who he was – why he was on my street (which is kind of known for drug trafficking…) – if he is single – if he is straight – etc.

But apparently none of those details matter. He is obviously honest. So I’m told I should date him. Amazing how a wrecked car can turn into a matchmaking event in a cat lady’s life.

The Challenge

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Yesterday I posted Selfish Single. Then I ran some errands and went for a long ride with Arthur. I didn’t really know where I was going – in fact, at one point I ended up on a road with loose gravel (not fun to handle a motorcycle like mine on gravel) and I almost got lost. I just rode.

I don’t think I will ever outgrow that feeling of intense freedom I find while driving a motorcycle.

As I rode, I pondered. I often think best on my bike. My thoughts turned from freedom to bondage to pointless rules to things I fear to the differences between rebels and freedom-seekers to Free-Spirited Singleness. When I arrived home, I wrote that post and scheduled it to publish today.

When I checked WordPress to see if it posted successfully today, I saw a new comment on Selfish Single. To spare anyone the effort of going all the way back to that post to see the comment I am referring to, allow me to share:

Less thinking, more doing! :-p The more you sit and ponder over whether or not to do something, the more you are missing out on the pure joy of exploring the unknown. Sure, things can go wrong and you can be hurt, but you work through that stuff and it develops you as a person.

What is there to lose? Do you want to look back and say that you took chances when there were chances available or look back and say, wow, I kind of didn’t do much.

So my challenge for you is to go out and explore, go on dates with men, you don’t have to get serious, just go for a date. If it works, then it works, if it doesn’t, then on to the next one. :-)

Matt

I’m still somewhat speechless to be honest. I think I’ve said the word “WOW” outloud at least 90 times now… I hear very similar advice from my best friend, my brother, and a few others I know well. But to hear this from someone across the world who knows me only through this blog…. WOW.

So, Matt, I can’t deny the truth in your words. I know at least four of my friends have specific guys in mind to set me up with right now. I’m being rather hypocritical to say that I love freedom and that I seek it out when I simultaneously put bars up all around myself to keep men away. I guess what I’m saying is… I accept your challenge. We’ll see how I do.

BTW – as long as I’m bringing his comment into my post, I may as well advertise for him. His blog is pretty fabulous. Check it out:

http://throughtheeyesofarider.wordpress.com/

 

Free-Spirited Singleness

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I’m not a rebellious person. But I am a free spirit. Others often get the two mixed up.

I didn’t like to go to school. It’s natural to neglect that which you do not like… School was often neglected. My teachers told me if I did not show up to school, I would never show up to work and I would never hold down a real job. They mistook me for a rebel. A rebel does not show up because she is told to show up. A rebel is looking for someone or something to defy. A free spirit, on the other hand, is looking for a choice. A free spirit does not show up because she did not feel like showing up. A rebel can’t hold down a job because she cannot fight the compulsion to go against that which she is told. A free spirit can hold down a job, because she realizes choices have consequences, and those consequences help her decide how to make those choices she values so much.

I often skipped school to prove that I had a choice. I did not have to be there – although I was always told that I did. I went when I so desired. Many of my teachers viewed me as a rebel – acting out. In all reality, I was exercizing my love for freedom by escaping the prison I envisioned school to be.

I will always be a freedom-lover. It shows up in every aspect of my life. 90% I would choose to wear my seatbelt. No matter what. It’s a natural instinct to reach for the strap and stretch it across my body. But I resent the fact that wearing a seatbelt is forced upon me. If I don’t feel like wearing my seatbelt, I choose to flip off the government by hopping on my motorcycle instead. I equally resent that in New York it is mandatory to wear a helmet on a motorcycle. If I lived in another state, a state where riding without a helmet is legal, I would still choose to wear a helmet. Why? Because I appreciate my face. But I hate that I don’t have a choice where I live. I hate that my freedom is limited.

My free spirit, by nature, runs from boundaries. I felt as if my teeth were being pulled when a man asked me to commit to work for his company for at least a year during an interview. It took me at least three minutes to agree that I could commit for a year. I’m now approaching my fifth year with that same company. When I signed a year-long lease for my apartment, I nearly panicked. What if I want to move? What if I have the opportunity to live in another country before my lease is up? I sucked it up and signed the lease. My year has passed. Two months after my lease ended, my landlord and landlady brought before me a new lease. I told them that as long as I had a choice, I’d rather not sign a new one. I assured them I had no plans to move (because I don’t), but as long as I have access to that freedom – why give it up?

It’s this love for freedom that leads to my hesitation toward commitment. Hesitation? Okay, fear of commitment. Fear? Fine, terror.

I see a cage. It’s not that I do not want to get married. I want a choice. As long as I am single, I have a choice. If ever I get married, I will give up that freedom. It’s not that marriage is bad. It’s not that marriage should be compared to bondage. But it’s a commitment that eliminates the freedom I so enjoy. I imagine if I ever enter that covenant, it will be similar to my job or my lease. Despite my concerns, it will last and I will appreciate it until the end. But for my lease and for my job I promised a year. In marriage I will promise a lifetime. Anyone else feel intimidated by that?

Selfish Single

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I’ve expressed previously that sometimes the reason I remain single is purely due to selfishness. I don’t really know that I want to deal with all the stuff that comes with marriage and family. I don’t really want to give up the independence I have. I can travel on a whim. I can leave dirty dishes in my sink for three days straight.  I don’t have to share my kitty, my food, my apartment, my motorcycle… anything really… with anybody! And I enjoy that.

But I’ve also expressed previously that sometimes I get lonely. I was thinking about selfishness recently and I had a flashback from previous years. Allow me to share:

The Englishman Who Went Up a Hill (and came down with all the bananas)

Here’s the thing… I’m at the point where I am wondering if I am doing something wrong. As a general rule I am content. But am I content for the wrong reasons?

I have to make some decisions. Should I give a relationship a shot? Is it really worth it?