Monday, August 31, 2009


Dear Diary:

Can you please slap me in the fucking head? Just do it right fucking now. If you haven't figured it out, I am fucking royally pissed off. Irate even. While apparently Sunshine thinks we have chemistry, she doesn't think we have passion. Her explanation of passion is not wanting to rip each other's clothes off every time we see each other and not being able to keep our hands off each other.

So, let me get this straight. I am myself, and treat a woman with respect, kindness, don't let her walk over me so I look like a chump, and we have a great time together. The kisses we shared was like making out like high school kids, and every single time we were together in either of our apartments we were cuddled up like it was supposed to be that way. She told me she loved waking up next to me and asked me to promise to always kiss her goodnight.

Yet, and I quote, "I'm just not sure I could see us sleeping together."


Let me get this straight. Like I said earlier, I have been able to fuck at will for about a year. I still have women that I have fucked asking me to fuck them again. I treat them like fuck toys, don't really respect them (well, I respected a few of them), and take what I want, and yet they want me to keep fucking them. I play the asshole card, or more of the boy next door who is a bit of an aloof dick, and get laid.

But I actually am myself, who is really just a guy with a big heart who doesn't like to see people hurt, and I am told there is no passion. What the absolute fuck does that mean?

Does that mean I should continue to go through life faking it and treating women like they are there for me to use as my own personal amusement park? If you ask me, that is a shitty way to live and I can't bring myself to do that anymore. I sowed my wild oats, had the random hook-ups, brought women back to their hotel rooms and fucked them senseless. I cannot do it anymore (well, unless she were smoking hot...nah, still can't).

I am myself, and last week, everything was going great, and then she puts up a fucking wall larger than Troy, and I am still sitting here waiting for her to make a decision that she will never make. And the decision has NOTHING to do with sex. It has to do with taking her wall down and just experiencing something.

Bullshit, fuck this, FUCK FUCK FUCK.

Why do I seem to attract women who are emotionally unavailable, or flat out mentally unbalanced?

Fuck this fuck it fuck it fuck it. If I wanted to play games, I would have joined a softball league.

Wednesday, August 26, 2009


Dear Diary:

Ok, confession time again. I am falling for the girl I am seeing.

Yeah, I know, you may be thinking a couple of things. For instance, you may be thinking, "I am so happy for you!" Or you may be thinking, "wow, I don't know what to say." Or you may be thinking, "that's great news!" Or you may be thinking, "be careful."

The problem is, as I found out last night, although (the following is her nickname only from now on) Sunshine says she wants to be with me, Sunshine is not ready to be with me.

So what the fuck am I supposed to do? I want to be with her. She is unlike anyone I have ever met. I look forward to seeing her, and when I can't see her I find myself missing her. So basically, I have no idea what to do right now.

I found out this little bit of information last night. Monday, we went to a movie and had dinner at her place, followed by a ton of kissing and cuddling and just looking into each other's eyes. Monday was a fantastic evening. Last night, not so much.

We play this game where we just ask each other questions. Somehow, last night the topic turned to sex and how she wasn't ready for that. I totally respect that and don't want to make her feel obligated to sleep with me, and told her such. However, she asked what if she was never ready to? Then what?

That statement lead to a downward spiral where she told me what I wrote above.

So what did I do? I ate. Dammit, I ate until my stomach was hurting. I had sandwiches and baked potatoes. Now, everyone knows that eating carbs late at night is not a good idea, but I couldn't help myself. I felt so fucking shitty.

I just do not see how someone can say that they want to be with you, see a very real future with you, and at the same time say that they are not ready to be with you. My brain cannot wrap itself around that because I see an inherent contradiction. If you want something, go for it. There is no reward if there is no risk.

Life is about taking chances and making choices. She said that her life is about choices, and she knows that they all have consequences.

Unfortunately, this choice doesn't involve just her. It involves me now too. And the choice is out of my hands. There is nothing I can do to fix anything or make it better. When she feels overwhelmed, she runs.

So I am stuck.

Friday, August 21, 2009

Trip Down Memory Lane, Sort Of

Dear Diary:

Sorry I didn't write to you sooner to update you about what I have been up to (ok seriously, why the fuck am I apologizing to a diary at this point, I created it!). I have been on the road for work the last week, and I was swamped like you wouldn't believe.

Anyway, the place I went to was the city I met my ex-wife in. It was the city she went to college, and the city she still has many friends in. It was the city were we first kissed. It was the city where I first told her I loved her. It was the city where I proposed to her.

But it is just a fucking city, and after 7pm, a boring one at that.

It was weird being in this town for the first time since my short lived marriage ended. To say it was surreal would be an understatement. I would wake up and grab coffee at the place I used to grab coffee when I would visit her and stay with her. I would grab a beer at one of the places I would frequent when I was in town when we were together. I had to drive past her old apartment building when traveling for work. I had to drive past the places we used to love to go to together.

They are just places.

There was one event that was going on that her and I went to the night we got engaged. That event was happening again, and I didn't feel like going. It wasn't so much that it wasn't fun, but more so because that part of me is history, and there is no point dwelling on the past. Besides, we went there because she wanted to, and honestly, the band that played is not my cup of tea. So I did other stuff, which included a lot of running. The city is a great city to run in, so I enjoyed the hell of out doing that, and even got my mileage up on more than one occasion.

I guess the point I am trying to make is that when you go through a divorce, the places that you used to frequent as a couple just become places again. They have no emotional tie unless you want them to. There is no point in not being able to enjoy them again as a single person because they are there to be enjoyed, so enjoy them.

And if somewhere along here I contradicted myself, screw it, it's early in the morning, I have a lot of laundry to do, and my morning coffee hasn't kicked in yet.

Sunday, August 16, 2009

Now About That Dinner

Dear Diary:

I said I would give you an update about how the dinner I made for G3 went, and this is it: fantastic.

Oh, so you want more details? Fine, fine, I will give you some fucking details you big baby.

First of all, as I write this I am sitting in a hotel room since I am traveling for work and last week was swamped so I didn't get to write much. Also, G3 spent the night a couple times, and since I generally do my writing in the evening, well, I couldn't really get to it.

But anyways...

I burnt the fucking reduction. Everything else that I made came out great, but I burnt the damn reduction. I had it on very low heat just to warm, and when she came over we sat on the couch and just started talking, and before you knew it, my apartment smelled like burnt figs.

But everything else was perfect. The food was good. The conversation was good. The wine was good. The walk after dinner was good. And her spending the night was good. And no, we didn't, because I know that is what you are wondering.

Sunday, August 9, 2009

What's For Dinner?

Dear Diary:

Girl 3 (actually she is the only one now, I am not dating anyone else and I don't want to, but we will keep this nickname until I come up with another) is coming over for dinner tonight. She is on her way as I write, so I am making this short and sweet, and I will give you the details of how the night goes at a later date.

I am cooking her dinner tonight, so I decided to make something that is simple, easy, yet elegant at the same time. The menu is as follows:

Brie and bread for starters

Salad of mixed baby greens tossed in olive oil, salt and pepper, topped with crumbled goat cheese.

Lamb chops that have been marinating in garlic, rosemary, salt, pepper and olive oil for roughly a day now. These will be pan seared, and then broiled.

The chops, once done, will be drizzled with a reduction of red wine and figs, and those will be served over garlic and chive mashed potatoes.

For dessert, I have strawberry shortcake.

And for the wine, a nice bottle of Pinot Noir from Oregon.

That is my menu. One may think that this would take a while to do, but honestly, it is a piece of cake. The reduction is already done, and is just cooling. The potatoes are cooking. The bread is sliced and the brie is out so that it comes to room temperature. The garlic and chive and butter for the mashed potatoes are prepared, and all I need to do is cook it for a bit, then mix in. The salad takes about three minutes to put together. The strawberries are already sliced for dessert, and that takes seconds to put together. The lab chops will be cooked when she gets here, and will take no more than twenty minutes. While they are cooking, she can kick back, enjoy a glass of wine and some bread and cheese, and then we are good to go.

I just hope she isn't allergic to anything, because that would totally fucking suck if you ask me.

Tuesday, August 4, 2009

Can't Think Of A Funny Title

Dear Diary:

It has been over a week since my last entry, and I am willing to do penance to atone for that fact. I have been thinking about what to write about, and have had the worst case of writer's block in my life, so, I have decided to write about absolutely nothing in particular.

In the past week, I have done a lot of running, a lot of sleeping, a lot of cleaning, and a lot of communicating. So, let's just sort of do a quick recap shall we?

Running - Running is fun, particularly in the summer heat of the DC metropolitan area (can you see the sarcasm oozing out of those words?). There is nothing like having a nice little run to the point your shirt is completely soaked through with sweat and your nipples have been rubbed raw because of the friction with said shirt. Fun times. However, I am finding it to be pretty relaxing, even though doing it outside in this heat and not on a treadmill is just a tad bit shy of complete and total misery. But, with no pain, there is no gain, and I am a glutton for punishment.

Sleeping - I have been completely and totally exhausted for about the last two weeks as life has gotten insanely busy. Between work, fixing up the new house that I am going to be living in, and dating, I have barely had time to do much of anything else. Case in point, this past Saturday I was barely home as I spent the entire day playing catch-up and taking care of shit I had to do, like making a trip to donate some stuff, and get new dress shirts, and run other mundane and (gasp!) grown-up errands. But why did I donate things?

Cleaning - I had to donate some items as a result of doing some cleaning. Why did I donate these things as a result of some cleaning? Well, because of fucking mice. I hate mice. They are filthy fucking creatures if you ask me. I was taking the trash out and as I lifted the bag, I heard a squeal, and out came a mouse from the garbage can. On the floor it went, and it went right under my foot as I stepped on it, but once I realized I did, quickly jerked my leg, and saw the little bastard run under the stove. So, having seen a mouse, I looked in the pantry, and where I was keeping various bowls and platters, there was mouse shit. Guess what stuff I donated? Thankfully none of it was expensive stuff. But, once it was donated, I cleaned the pantry. One would have thought I was a crazed banshee with the swiftness and thoroughness that said pantry was cleaned. Oh, and I also got glue traps to put near the garbage and pretty much anywhere else I could think of that the little bastard mouse might go running again. I can see PETA getting pissed at me for that, but fuck them. I have no sympathy for those disease carrying little shit leavers.

Dating - The dating world is great, and I continue to have the time of my life. Girl 3 and I have been getting along great, and I think there may be something very real there. She is a complete sweetheart, and I really do enjoy getting to know her more and spending time with her. She made me dinner last night, and she went all out. Lobster flown in from Maine, brownies, wine, hell, it was perfect. I am going to cook for her soon, and I do not know how I am going to top that. I may have to bring out the big guns of pan seared salmon over garlic mashed potatoes with a dill creme fraiche. Or maybe I will just crack open a bottle of Pinot Noir and figure out something that goes with that, maybe lamb chops with a red wine and fig reduction?

Decisions decisions.