Candid Karina











{February 8, 2012}   Moments and Memories

I had this dream last night, and in it, I was with The Soulmate.  You can read our full story in that link, but I’ll give you the cliffs notes version:  The Soulmate is an ex-boyfriend of mine.  He was a great guy, and we had a wonderful relationship.  He treated me better than any man ever had or ever has since.  He was sweet, and caring, and loving, and sexy and funny, and fun.  From him I learned, truly, what it meant to be loved, and how I should expect to be treated by a man.  I truly loved this man.

Unfortunately, as I’ve learned more than once in life, sometimes love just isn’t enough.  The Soulmate came into my life damaged and carrying a complete set of baggage, with the bonus free carry-on bag. As much as he loved me, he couldn’t let go of his past long enough to plan his future.  We broke up.  He broke my heart (in probably the most selfless and giving way anyone has ever broken someone else’s heart) and set me free.

This all happened a very long time ago, and I haven’t spoken to or heard about him since.  I have more than once wished for him happiness.  I truly hope he’s found love with someone else, and has allowed himself to heal from his wounds and move on.

My wounds have healed.  My heart, reshaped, but mended.  The memories stored away, only to resurface in small glimpses.  But not very often at all lately.  I can’t remember the last time I thought of him.

Until last night, when, for some unknown reason, he surfaced in my dream.  Prominently.  I don’t remember the specific details, but I remember that it was more a walk through my memories than an actual dream.  In my sleep I relived aspects of our relationship.  And I awoke feeling nostalgic, and wishing I could revisit those feeling again.

Left wondering where he is now.  Wondering what if…wondering why life has this way of playing mind tricks on you.

I have made peace with this piece of my romantic history.  I have, in fact, been able to take an objective look back and realize that as much as there was love, there were also cracks..faults…issues that we eventually would never have been able to survive, even without his baggage.

And yet…today my heart lays heavy in my chest.  And I miss him.  So many years later.

Guess I know exactly what Adelle is singing about here: 

 



It happened again. Not for the first time in my life, I’ve been faced with one of those moments when I feel that I’m just a little late.

Or perhaps, a lot late, as the case may be.

Either way, once again, my timing is off.

And I could sit here and tell you that I know, in my heart, that it isn’t about my timing anyway, God’s timing has its own pace, and it’s not mine to question.

I could sit here and tell you that in my brain, I know this, and I know that my time too, will come.

But at this moment, I feel like I’m chasing the white rabbit down the hole screaming once again, “I’m late, I’m late, for a very important…non-date”.

See, the thing is, I keep meeting the perfect guy for me. Or so I think. And then that annoying, and grammatically incorrect Alanis Morrisette song starts playing in my head…

“It’s like meeting the man of your dreams, and then meeting his beautiful wife”…Isn’t it Ironic?

No, it’s not ironic, in fact, it’s just plain cruel.

This vicious cycle of meeting “the one” only to realize he is someone else’s “one” started so long ago, I’m beginning to believe the universe hates me.

Shall we visit a few of the exhibits?

Exhibit A: and perhaps the most heartwrenching of all: The Soulmate (go on an click if you want the FULL story). To this day, I portend he was “the one”. I loved him with all I had. He too, loved me. But prior to meeting me, he’d given his heart and soul to another, and when she ripped it to shreds, he swore never to get married again. So, when I came along, fantastic as our relationship was, it stagnated. There was no moving forward with a man still stuck in the past…I was too late.

Exhibit B: A few years later, I received a visit from a male friend who had moved half way across the country many years before. We had been friends for nearly a decade, and never once had I thought of him as anything more, though I realized by then that he, perhaps, had at one point or another hoped I would. Either way, that day, as he sat in my living room, and we chatted amiably, it hit me. YES, there it is, it’s him. He’s the one. How had I not seen it before? But now I knew…now I could tell him. Almost instantly, as soon as I realized this, he turned to me and said “I have something to tell you”. Heart beats faster as I listen in anticipation… “I’m getting married” he says. Once again…I was too late.

Exhibit C: A few years ago I took a trip to meet up with a friend in Savannah. My flight down was a nightmare, started off by a mechanical issue on the plane, which would undoubtedly have made me miss my connecting flight. Along with 3 other passengers I was pulled off the flight and sent running to another airline, to board a different flight. One of these passengers was a man. A man I almost instantly clicked with. We chatted amiably as we waited for confirmation on this new flight, and in the process I discovered he was married. Moving on, I rushed to catch the flight, while he stayed behind to work out his own flight details, missing that flight. I chalked it up to just an unimportant meeting, until 2 days later, in Savannah, I ran into him on the street one night, just walking around. Again we chatted for a bit, and the chemistry between us was obvious, electric, cruel. He invited my friend and I to join him and his friend for a drink, but thinking of his wife, I declined and moved on. Annoyed with the universe…again, too late.

Exhibit D: More recently, there have been a myriad of friendships with men that have appeared in my life. All wonderful men. All men with whom there is chemistry, and friendship and…nothing more. Because each of these men, as it turns out, has already found a wife, a girlfriend, a partner. As a friend, I am happy to realize they are not for me. In fact, some of these wives, girlfriends, etc. are friends of mine as well, and as a true friend, I am glad, because I wish nothing less for my friends than what I would expect for myself. Therefore, if I feel these men contain some of the qualities I would want for myself, I can’t help but be thrilled my friends have found them. And the truth is, these guys really aren’t “the one” for me, not at all…Still…I can’t help but think…if only…too late…

There are more such examples…so many, in fact, that I almost laugh now at the ridiculousness of the joke. Because it has to be a joke. Why the Universe would choose to place these men in my life, sometimes in the most unbelievable of circumstances, only to then just as quickly yank them out…can only be a cruel joke.

And again this weekend, it happened.

Attending a church event, I saw a man. A man I’d seen before, in a completely unrelated environment, with nothing but “faith” to connect the two events. No friends in common, no towns in common, really, nothing to connect the two events, but God.

I will not lie that for a moment (or several moments) I allowed my mind to get carried away, thinking “I wasn’t even sure I’d be attending this event today, and yet, here I am, and here he is…what are the odds? Could this be one of those ‘signs’ I’m learning to notice more of?”

The excitement of promise bubbled in me. Until, suddenly, I noticed his wedding band.

Go on, laugh with me…because really…what else is there to do?



{November 18, 2010}   All The Boys – Runaway

Well folks…I figured I owed you an update on little runner boy here at the good ol’ blog…so here goes.

Are you ready for this?

Wait for it…

Wait for it…

Yeah…sorry, I’ve got nothing.

No, I mean, it, nothing.

The latest news was good. I was biding my time, and waiting to see how it would turn out, but it was looking good.

He was calling and texting, and we were attempting to make plans. Our schedules weren’t meshing, but the attempts were there on both sides, and the interest seemed mutual.

Then on Sunday 2 weeks ago, we chatted in the morning and discussed the Celtics game which was later that evening. He asked if I’d be watching, I said yes, he said he would too, and that I should call him.

I’m not a mind reader, but he made it sound like perhaps we could watch the game together. That was the impression I got, and the few friends I shared with felt the same way.

So, that evening when I came home, I called him before the game.

I got his voice mail.

I left a message for him to call me back.

And…

That was two weeks ago. I haven’t heard from him since.

Yep, dating sure is fun. (ahem, sarcasm)

Back to the drawing board we go then…



{November 8, 2010}   When Boys Had Cooties

There was a time, somewhere in my early childhood, when I thought all boys had cooties.

Or so I’m led to believe.
Because, there’s a time in every little girl’s life when boys have cooties, right?
Except, the thing is…I don’t remember that time.
No, to be quite honest with you, I just remember ALWAYS liking boys.
I liked to chase them around, play tag and hide and seek, climb trees and ride bikes with them.
Maybe it was because I was a bit of a tomboy, but boys didn’t really have cooties, they were just FUN to be with.
Then I got girlie. But even then, I liked boys. Of course, by then, I liked boys because they were cute, and silly, and they made me giggle and blush.
So, I’d like to tell you that I miss a time when I thought all boys had cooties…but, I don’t remember there ever being such a time.
Which is too bad, because then I’d have a point of reference for going back to when now, as a full grown adult, heading back into the dating world in my “gulp” thirties…I really wish I could just say “boys are dumb and they have cooties” and go play barbies with the girls.
I won’t bore you with the latest details of my “non-dates” with Runner Boy, because well…there isn’t much to tell.
But, the truth is, all this back and forth is exciting, and exhausting, it’s nerve racking and giggle inducing…dating is…FUN. And…so ANNOYING.
It would just be so much easier if boys really did have cooties.


A few weeks ago I told you about my potential “Running date”.


I’ve been asked for an update on how it all turned out, and well, my dear readers, ask and ye shall receive…


Unfortunately there isn’t a whole lot to report, but what there is to report, is good.


The “date”:


We met up on a Saturday afternoon, and greeted each other like old friends, hugs and all.


It had been 17 years since we’d last seen each other, but we picked up in conversation as if no time had passed, easy, comfortable, normal.


Our run was about an hour long, during which we covered the span of our lives in the last nearly two decades. After our run, we sat and chatted for another hour, discussing everything else under the sun.


I learned, in those two hours, that he still is the same nice guy I remembered him being back then. I learned that we have a lot in common, and a lot of the same interests in life. I learned he’s been married, and divorced, but has no kids. He is also mature, has a level head on his shoulders, and appears to be mostly “undamaged” by his past relationships. If you’ve read any of my other “All The Boys” posts, you know this is major to me, because I tend to date all the “damaged” boys.


There were moments when he’d say something and I would think to myself “wow, guys like you still exist?” Refreshing.


We talked about running together again, or more specifically, he told me that if I was running again the following Saturday, to let him know and he would definitely join me. We also talked about working out together in the winter in the gym, once the weather got too cold out for running. Once again, he suggested we do so. Plans for the future…bonus, right?


It was a lovely way to spend an afternoon, and I walked away with tentative plans for a run the following Saturday and a smile on my face.


I also walked away completely unsure if this was something with romantic potential or just “old friends catching up” and a new workout buddy.


Such as it is, in all honesty, I walked away with a crush. But I also walked away content in the knowledge that I’d reconnected with a great old friend, and would be perfectly happy if it went the way of “just a new work out buddy”. Truthfully.


This past Saturday was to be our follow up date, and we did, in fact, make plans to go run together again in the afternoon. However, about an hour before our run, he called and bailed on me.


He had a legitimate enough reason, and didn’t want me to miss my run because he was running late and unsure if he’d make it at all. Told me to go on without him, and if he could make it on time, he’d let me know. If not, he suggested perhaps running together the following day. I let him know the following day would probably not work for me, I had plans, but okay, to let me know about that afternoon or maybe we could go in the morning on Sunday.


He didn’t make it. I went running solo anyway, and had a great run.


Although disappointed, I was relieved as well, because now, officially, the ball was in his court. If he is interested, he’ll have to follow up. The stress if off me.


I figured perhaps I’d hear from him on Sunday, perhaps I’d hear from him this week, perhaps I’d never hear from him again, perhaps I’d hear from him next month. Who knew?


I’m not one to spend too much time stressing over guys, so I decided to just let it unfold however it would, and go on with my life as I have been.


He texted me Saturday night, asked me how my run was.


This was unexpected, and made me slightly giddy. Because a guy looking for “just a new workout buddy” wouldn’t text me at 11:30 on a Saturday night.


It was a short conversation, and as of right now, we still don’t have other plans, but the ball is still officially in his court, and I’m not stressing about it.


And also, I think he likes me.


Just sayin’. 😉



{October 21, 2010}   All The Boys – Run Karina Run

Oh, God has the greatest sense of humor. Can you hear Him laughing from where you sit? Because I can. He’s having a jolly old time right about now, laughing at (okay, with) me.


Let me explain.


When I was in high school, I was not athletic. At all. In fact, the last time I did any sort of sports activity was when I ran track in the 4th grade. Then puberty hit, and I was all set with sweating. I became a girlie girl. Sports were not for me. By the time high school came around, I was one of those girls in gym class who would walk laps around the gym in order to not have to participate in the volleyball game.


And running? Up until about a year ago I used to say that “I’ll run if someone is chasing me”.


I was not a jock.


Recently, as in, within the last year, I’ve started running. I love it, I’m addicted, but I’m still pretty much a newbie.


You need to know this, because it’ll come into play later.


The other thing you need to know, if you are just tuning in is that I don’t date much (ahem, at all), and haven’t for a really long time. My last date was quite a while ago, and the date before that date? I don’t remember.


Initially this not dating thing was a choice, a decision to work on myself, to take some time for me. And then…well, life, and being in my 30’s and living in the suburbs, and not really meeting anyone outside my “circle” (and we won’t discuss the disaster that dating INSIDE my circle turned into…nope, we won’t).


So, yeah, I don’t really date. I’ve wanted to get back out on the dating scene for a while now, but the pickin’s? They are slim.


So, anyway, those are the things you need to know.


And now, begins the comedy portion of this post:


In high school, I met this boy. Let’s call him Pretty Boy. Pretty Boy was a sweet kid and we had a “thing”. As far as high school things go, this was of the most innocent and secretive kind. He was friends with another boy I had an on again/off again thing with, and he was a little shy, so, we hung out, but it never really amounted to much of anything.


If I remember correctly, and my memories of high school are hazy, mostly because I’ve blocked a lot of that time in my life out of my memory completely, we discovered our mutual attraction far too close to graduation to really pursue it.


I never saw him again after graduation, and to be honest, I don’t think I ever thought of him again. I pretty much forgot he existed, and I’ll venture to say it was a mutual thing.


Then about a year ago, FaceBook suggested him as a friend. Surprised to recognize both his name and his face, I sent him a message asking if he remembered me. It took him so long to reply that I once again forgot he existed. When he did reply, he apologized for the late response, explaining he was never on FB, but said of course he remembered me. I’d like to tell you that at that point a conversation ensued, but…I believe I responded to that message, but never heard from him again.


As he’d said, he’s never really on FB, and, in all honesty, I once again forgot all about him.


Until this week.


Because this week, after I went running one day, and posted a status with my run stats, I heard from him.


He said “Wow, I’m proud of you, that’s a great run time, I can’t do that well just yet”. Something along those lines.


Randomly.


Out of nowhere.


Unexpected.


And, something inside me said “hmmmmm”.


So, without allowing myself time to hesitate, second guess, and chicken out, I replied to his comment, saying we should go running sometime, I’d love to catch up.

I put it out there, and I walked away.


And later that day I had a private message from him saying he’d love to go running, perhaps this weekend, giving me his number to call him.


I wrote him back, saying this weekend was good, telling him I’d call him “later this week”.


Today is later this week.


I just called him.


The conversation was short, because he was at work, but it was comfortable, easy, fun. We caught up a bit, talked about work, and then he asked “So when do you want to go running?”


We decided on Saturday afternoon.


He said he’s really looking forward to catching up.


I said “This should be a lot of fun”.


He had to get back to work, we hung up.


I’m out of practice with this dating thing.


I’m a little bit nervous.


I’m a lot bit excited.


I’m well aware this could be non-romantic in all aspects, I’m not pinning a whole lot of hopes on this.


I’m also aware that this has potential. I’m a little “teenage girl” giddy.


Also…God is laughing. Because I? Am going RUNNING on a potential date?


Running?


With a guy.


A guy I haven’t seen in 17 years.

Running.


Yep, God has a wicked sense of humor.


Thank God for that.





In case you missed it, Corey Haim died on March 10 this year. I never had a chance to write this post then because I was having computer issues, and also, March 10th also happens to be my birthday, I was a bit busy.


But, the other day I was having a Twitter conversation with a friend about Mr. Haim, and I realized I had a post to write.


See, I loved Corey Haim. He may, quite possibly have been my first celebrity crush. Yes, even before Donnie Wahlberg.


Those who’ve been reading my blog for a while, may remember a few posts on him. In fact, besides Donnie himself, Corey Haim has the honor of being the only other celebrity I’ve written multiple blog posts about (all the way back in 2005 and 2007 respectively).


If you’re curious, you can read those here, and here.


A quick perusal through those posts should tell you what an impact Corey Haim had on my adolescence.


Not only was he my first celebrity crush (oh how I remember swooning as he sang in the bathtub in the Lost Boys)


But he was also my first brush with drug addiction.


I remember being crushed and horrified when I learned of his drug problem. I remember, in my sheltered innocence, writing him a fan letter pleading with him to get help, and then, taking down all of his posters from my wall. Exchanging them for posters of other, more clean cut actors. And yes, eventually for Donnie Wahlberg and the rest of the New Kids On The Block.


For me, drug addiction was beyond my comprehension, and I couldn’t support someone who had succumbed to its allure. My heart broke for Corey, but I could no longer be a fan.


Years passed, and word of his struggles would surface now and again, and each and every time, my heart would break.


Later, as an adult, I would find this photo of him



And again, my heart would break. Where was that adorable little boy with the lisp and the crooked smile?


Then, more recently, word came of a reality show, The Two Coreys. Haim and Feldman would reunite, now that Haim had cleaned up his act, and regale their old fans with their new adventures. With this picture, hope was restored.


He was back. This time, he would make it.


And yes, I watched the show, faithfully. And it was apparent very quickly that Corey was not over his demons. As the show exploited his problems, as Feldman tried to get his friend to seek help, and his denial grew stronger…again my heart broke.


On March 10th of this year I woke up in great spirits. It was my birthday. My 35th birthday. I’m not one of those women who hides (or hides from) her age. I treasure each birthday as what it is, the gift of another year of life.


Checking my facebook that morning a friend posted these words: RIP Corey Haim.


My heart broke for the final time for the “Lost Boy” who never found his way.


A small piece of my childhood died on my birthday this year. I’m sorry you couldn’t find your peace on earth Corey, I truly pray you are finally at peace.



{June 10, 2009}   What if I told you…

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about my ex, Cognac.

There, I said, I admit it.

I’m not entirely sure why he’s been residing so constantly on my mind, but there it is, he’s been ever present for the last few weeks.

I have my theories as to why he’s hanging around in my mind, but I think the gist of it is simply that I’ve realized I’m ready. Ready for what, you ask? Ready to fall in love again.

No, not with him. I’ve been there, done that. Twice.

That ship sailed, hit an iceberg and sank. Hard.

No, my thoughts on Cognac are simply about the feelings, not the man. Because for all the faults Cognac had, the love was real.

I think all these feelings have been stirring inside me for weeks now, trying to find a way to come together and make sense. For me, being the ever independent, completely content with my life style, single girl, it’s never easy to focus for too long on feelings of loneliness. Even typing out that word seems false to me. I’m rarely ever lonely. Alone yes, but lonely? That’s hard for me to accept. I revel in my alone time, the quiet, the freedom, the ability to do as I please.

If for a moment I get a tinge of loneliness, I pick up the phone, turn on the computer, and surround myself with family or the friends I’ve collected over the years as a single girl.

For I am blessed to have the most amazing family and friends a person could ever ask for.

So loneliness? Seems ridiculous that I should ever utter that word. It’s certainly not about loneliness, but there’s that quiet ache inside for something more. It’s been so quiet, for so long that I barely ever hear its cry. But now and again it does manage to get a little louder, to make itself heard. Lately has been one of those times.

I wasn’t aware of it at first, so slowly was it creeping up on me, with memories of Cognac perhaps, subtle hints, tiny pangs. And then I got the call. A friend of mine, 10 years my junior, got engaged this past weekend.

Chew on that for a minute, because I’ve had to do just that. Let it sink in. Swim around in my brain for a bit.

My immediate reaction was pure and unselfish joy. How amazingly wonderful for her. So in love, so young, so excited and deserving.

And then. A pause.

So young. So in love. How wonderful for her.

A pang.

So young. How wonderful.

And there it was. What about me? When will it be my turn?

It lasted only moments, and I put it out of my mind. After all, I love my life. Love every moment of my crazy, hectic, spontaneous, eccentric, creative, fabulous single life.

I’m also a firm believer in that old adage of “if it’s meant to be”. “It’ll happen when you least expect it”. Etc. etc. I’ve never been one to “look” for love, it’s always found me unexpectedly and in the most wonderful ways. I don’t believe in focusing all my energy finding “the one” and in the meantime missing out on life. I just live. And because of that, I have the most amazing life, the most amazing friends, experiences, memories, and plans. Life is good.

So, the momentary pang of “what about me” passed quickly enough. Or so I thought.

But I’ve found my mind refocusing on that question more than once since that call on Saturday night. And with that Cognac haunts me. Sneaking up unexpectedly. A song that reminds me of him, a word he used to say, those memories we keep. And I know it’s not about him, it’s about the feelings.

I suppose it’s time I realize that I’m ready and maybe that I want it all a little bit more than I’ve been willing to admit, even to myself.

So there you have it.

Now what?



Oh, how I missed dating. No, really, there’s no sarcasm in that statement. None. Not even a little…okay fine, I’m full of it.

Dating sucks.

The highs, the lows, the giddiness, the anxiety, the anticipation, the disappointment…I’m already enough of an emotional basket case without throwing me into such a volatile world.

Add dating into the mix and I’m mood swing city over here.

Don’t get me wrong, it’s not all bad. I thoroughly enjoy the attention, the getting to know you stage, the flirting and the thrill of the unknown. There’s even a small part of me that can appreciate the expected moments of anxiety, you know the “will he call” and “what did he mean when he said that” moments.

Hashing it all out with your girlfriends, figuring out the guy code, trying to decide if he is or isn’t just that into you.

It’s all part of the game, and taken lightly, can be fun.

But, it is a game. And unfortunately, most games end with someone winning, and someone losing.

Which brings us to “The Boy”. The 25 year old boy yours truly had a date with this weekend. Remember him? Of course, how could we forget.

So adorable was he, so into me, that when the opportunity arose for an impromptu coffee date on Friday afternoon, he cancelled plans to go to the gym to meet up with me instead.

So we had coffee. We had a lovely time and sat and chatted for a little over an hour. Easy conversation, flirtation, even plans for future dates were discussed. Our plans for Sunday were confirmed, and we parted ways promising to chat via text later that evening, while I was out with friends, and he was working.

On paper, it all went well. In fact, I tell you that if you had been sitting in that coffee shop watching us interact, you would have thought “cute couple, they’re into each other”.

And yet, yours truly walked away from that coffee date with a feeling that “the Boy” was just not that into her. Don’t ask me what did it, I couldn’t tell you. He said all the right things, the body language was positive, there were no outward signs. Call it women’s intuition however…I just knew.

I’ll spare you the details, because they are boring and unnecessary, but before Friday night was over, it had become obvious I was being blown off. He still didn’t say much, but the tone between us changed completely. Gone was the flirtatious air in his messages and texts, and instead we entered the territory of curt, basic communication.

By Saturday, however, he seemed to have abandoned all interest in pretense. The communication stopped all together. I never heard from him again. AT ALL.

Yes, I was officially blown off. He didn’t just flake, he flaked in a major way. The “so into you”, no game playing, straight shooter I’d been getting to know…was a phony.

Now, before you start to feel sorry for me, let me assure you that you do not need to. Obviously, upon meeting me for coffee, something changed. Likely he realized that I did not look how he’d remembered me to look. Quite possibly, I didn’t measure up to his fantasy induced memory. I’m okay with that. I know I’m not a supermodel, and not every man’s fantasy. I can handle that.

Yes, the ego takes a hit, but, to be honest, I think I look pretty damn good at this point in my life, and if he wasn’t attracted, well, so be it.

But it was the complete switch, from the portrayal of the “good guy” who was so into me, straight forward and mature for his age, into a silly little coward of a boy who couldn’t even send a text message with a lame made up excuse cancelling our date, that shocked me.

No, I take that back, shock is too strong a word. Disappointed me.

I would at the very least, have expected a proper blow off. The disappearing act? Weak.

And yet, this morning I’m smiling. I spent my weekend packing for my cruise. I tried on my short little dresses and my cute little booty shorts, and I realized that he’s a fool. I may not be a supermodel, but I have the whole package. I am strong, independent, intelligent, loyal, fun, caring, kind hearted, and damn it if I don’t have a hot little body for a 34 year old after all my hard work this last year.

Truth is, all this? Way too much for a little boy to handle. I should have known better. I need to be talking to grown men. Besides, as my friend “The Disciple” pointed out to me “He was too short anyway, at this point, you need to think genetics girl, you want a tall man”.

But, no regrets. I said it then, and I’ll say it again, from this point forward, I go all in emotionally. Life is too short to “play it safe” and hold back. I want to experience things, and feel them, and enjoy them without focusing too much on the what if’s. As quickly as I can jump in, I can jump out. Bounce back, move on.

I might as well enjoy it while I’m in it.

If I’m going to do this dating thing, I might as well give it my all. Don’t you think?



Where do I start?

Yours trully has met a boy.

When I said this year that I would be venturing back into the dating world, I have to admit that I was afraid that after all this time “out of the game”, I would no longer have any game left in me.

But ladies and gents? Candid K has got MAD game.

This past Saturday night my friend “The Disciple” invited me out for a night on the town with a few of her friends. With my birthday coming up, she thought we should get all dressed up and go dancing. It has been a very long time since I’ve been to a dance club, and it is definitely not the scene I plan on being a part of again, but, for a one night only engagment, I was game.

So, off I went Saturday afternoon in search of the perfect outfit for the evening because I had nothing to wear. Not only do I not have anyhing cute that fits me now that I’ve lost all this weight, but I got rid of all my “going out” clothes years ago.

After a long day of searching, I finally found the perfect little black dress. It accentuated all the right areas and was sexy as hell without being sleazy. I won’t lie, dear readers, I felt pretty hot that night.

At the club we girls were pretty much the life of the party. The Disciple is one of those people with an immense amount of positive energy, and the type of person everyone wants to be around. Her energy is also quite contagious, so when you are with her, you also become the type of person everyone wants to be around. She brings out the best in you. What she brought out in me Saturday night was my youthful side. I felt like I was in my 20’s again. We were dancing, having a great time, and getting all sorts of attention. Several guys were asking us to dance, and at one point a security guard approached us and told us “I cleared the stage for you girls to get up there”.

So, what were we to do? Well of course we got up on that stage.

As I said, we were the life of the party.

And it was while I was up on that stage that I caught the eye of one particular guy. One particularly hot guy. He asked me to dance, and I saw no reason to say no.

After dancing for a bit, and chatting a bit over the loud music, he told me that he was going to let me get back to my girls, didn’t want to disturb my “girl’s night out”, but wanted to get my phone number before I left. Then he asked me what I was drinking, and told me he was going to get me a drink.

A few minutes later, as I was again dancing with my girls, another security guard tapped me on the shoulder and handed me a drink. He motioned over to the side, where my guy was standing, and said “that’s from him”. He just lifted up his drink in acknowledgment but left me alone the rest of the evening.

He won major brownie points for that.

At the end of the evening he called me over again and said “I’m taking off, but really wanted to get your number”. How could I say no?

Now, let me tell you this, I was just having fun, I did not expect him to actually call me, and besides that, I figured he was probably 21 years old at the most. My girl and I were totally laughing about it later.

Well, he id did end up sending me a text message later that night, as we were driving home, and we texted back and forth a little bit, then he told me to call or text him the next day. Oh, dating in the technology age…it so wasn’t like this the last time I was out there.

So, on Sunday night I sent him a quick text, and again we texted back and forth for a bit, but then I said he should just call me to make chatting easier, and he called right back. We ended up being on the phone for nearly an hour.

I finally did ask him how old he was, because, let’s be honest, I was dying to know.

I had mentioned, by the way, in the club to him that I was a lot older than he thought I was, and he’d said “well, you don’t look it, and I don’t care”, and that sort of ended that conversation…Who am I to argue with that logic?

When I finally did ask him, however, and he responded with “25”…oh the laughter dear readers. I could do nothing but laugh.

Still laughing I said “oh wow, I’m so much older than you think I am”. He replied with “I don’t believe that”

So I said “well then, I’ll put you on the spot and ask you…how old do you think I am?”
Him: “oh man, you really want me to answer that?”
Me: “yeah”
Him: “You promise you won’t be offended?”
Me (knowing full well he was not going to come even close) “No, I won’t”.
Him: “there’s no way you’re older than…29?”
Me: Laughter again “oh man, what if I told you I was older than that?”
Him: “whatever, I like older women…so, how old are you?”
Me: “I’m afraid to tell you now” still laughing
Him: “Just tell me”
Me: mumbling really fast “mybirthday’stuesdayi’mturning34”
Him: “that’s hot” more laughter from me “wow, seriously? with that body? that’s hot”.

Candid K’s self-confidence? Boosted up a notch or two right then and there.

So, the question remains, am I old enough to be a Cougar? What’s the age group below that? A Cheetah? A Puma? What the hell am I getting myself into? What is it with me and younger guys anyway?

Still, I won’t lie, the fact that a 25 year old thinks I’m hot is certainly good for my ego, and I’m not about to disregard him simply because of the age difference.

The fact that he’s got me giggling like a silly twelve year old, spending hours on the phone getting to know each other, as if we were still in high school, and smiling at random times during the day when I get a sweet text message from him? Well, those are the perks of entering the dating world again, aren’t they? Those are the good “warm fuzzy” feelings I missed.

But here’s the kicker…I’m actually beginning to really like this guy. On paper, take away all the giddy emotion and the little thing about the age difference, and he serves up a resume of all the characteristics I would want from a man at this point in my life.

I don’t know him yet, our first date won’t even happen until this coming Sunday, and he’s the first guy I’ve even been remotely interested in in over a year. And yet, I see potential there, and I’m thoroughly enjoying how easily we click.

From a level headed, cautious, fiercely independent point of view, this is just harmless fun, and I’m just going to soak up the attention.

From the other side of me, the side that has been in hiding for far too long now, but has begun to show it’s face in the last year or so…I’m throwing caution to the wind and just going with it.

What have I got to lose? And besides, think of all the stories I’ll have to share with you.



et cetera