"I Really, Really Like You"

When you tell a man too soon that you really like him, you're telling him two things:

1) That you've been long in searching for a man to complete you and make your life seem worthwhile, even at the expense of due diligence.

2) That he should get rid of you as soon (after sex) as possible.

You keep spending time with this guy because you think he's attractive, right?  You've recognized something worth having all to yourself, and like a team after draft day you're looking to lock down this franchise player ASAP.

Problem is, the average dating man doesn't stamp ASAP on anything except the bedroom, and your true confession over Starbucks coffee or during some drunken post-club phone call won't win him over.

Whether you're 18 and fresh or 30 with a bunch of clocks on you, it's better to just relax and see where the relationship goes.  If you don't feel like you're getting out what you've been putting in, kick rocks -- seriously.  You'll be doing both of you a favor, but you don't want to look back and see that things fell apart because of your need for verbal transparency.

"I really, really like you."  All he hears are the strings from Psycho.

Date Movie: The American

Don't let those Rockport slip-ons fool you.

This isn't a review of the new movie starring George Clooney -- not really.  Rather, it's about the possibilities The American affords two people on a date.

The film's anchor is its tension.  By the time the first shot goes off you'll have forgotten to tighten up so you won't jump.  After that every scene, every word, every camera shot winding around a corner will foreshadow menace and danger.

Hold on to your man.

There's a heavy dose of romance in The American -- just in different shades.  Clooney's first relationship, initially given the Nicholas Sparks treatment, ends so coldly and abruptly that you'll be thoroughly discombobulated from there on out.

Lying low in a small Italian village that time forgot, Clooney's character -- Edward, Jack or "Mr. Butterfly" depending on who he's talking to -- is drawn to two women he can't and probably shouldn't trust, a fellow assassin who's commissioned his help in building the perfect weapon and a local prostitute who's prepared to let things get personal.

I'll leave the rest for the date but this movie has everything.  And it's quiet.  It's a slow-paced movie that won't have you on the edge of your seat like, say, Resident Evil: Afterlife 3D, so even in the midst of mounting suspense you and your date can relax and feel each other up in the dark.

Or just hold hands to calm the tension.  Save it for later.

Minute Madness is Back ... If You Dare

New Shoes is bringing back MINUTE MADNESS!!!

Record a video lasting sixty seconds or less intellectualizing -- or ranting -- about relationships, dating, sex, marriage, etc.

Upload the video (on Youtube, Vimeo ... wherever) and send the link to ascott1983@yahoo.com and you'll see it featured in a future New Shoes post.  It's like an open-ended survey where you get to decide what the important topic is!

Thanks.

The Un-Boyfriend

(The following is a re-post from the blog I Hate 2 Date.)

How many times have you found yourself in a situation, a relationship, a dynamic where you are with someone and yet not officially “with” them. Not their boyfriend/girlfriend? This non-committal phenomenon is older than the hills although now we have new ways of describing it. Friends With Benefits, F*ck Buddies, BFF’s, or just Friends without any label.

I seem to find myself in this situation over and over throughout my life. And even with my ageless wisdom, cannot figure out why. The difference as we get older, is to figure out how to make this a mutually beneficial situation….or at least enjoy what you can get out of the no-strings dynamic.

How do we end up or start out in this funk, for lack of a better term? Sometimes you meet someone, like them, but for whatever reason, realize there is no future or potential for anything but friendship. Other times, we come out of a relationship where we still really care about the person and want to keep some sort of ties. And the other explanation….that’s when one person wants all the good stuff but none of the obligations, labels or commitment of a full-fledged relationship.

As I’ve gotten older I’ve come to realize that relationships are hard. Finding them, keeping them, staying in them, not wanting to end them, and not wanting to kill the other person involved. I’m amazed how anyone gets together, no less stays together these days – and not at all surprised by the 50% divorce rate. Now take a person out of a bad relationship, they’re cautious, they’ve been burned, they pray they won’t make the same mistakes again. So does the subsequent love interest get a learned man/woman or damaged goods? 

Hmmmm……

This brings me to another interesting thought….how much should you reveal to your current love about your ex-love? How much do you really want to know (and are prepared to know about) an ugly relationship gone south? All I know is every story has two sides, but surely you are only going to hear the version that undoubtedly blames the ex-monster, villain or she-devil. So if she was a controlling shrew or he verbally assaulted his ex, what’s the chance those behaviors are set to repeat themselves at some point down the road? How much do we really learn and how much do people actually change?

Getting back to the original topic, I suppose the conundrum only comes when one party wants something more than the other and the un-boyfriend situation is just not going to cut it any more. So until that point in time, labels are useless, and friendship, trust and respect are paramount. Isn’t that what we’re all looking for anyhow?

Posted on March 19, 2010 by datehater

Departure - Part 1

(The following is a reprint of a post from the blog "My Life As A Serial Dater."  You can visit this blog to read parts 2 and 3.)

So, my final night in Houston did not turn out the way I had expected.  I was going to stay in.  My mom was going to drop me at the airport on the way to work.  I was going to get some sleep. But, that wouldn't really do the last day of summer justice, so fate took over and everything changed.  All the things that were 'supposed' to happen fell by the wayside, and as per usual, I did what I wanted.

The morning of my departure, I was doing my daily internet browse and an instant message popped up.   It was not as routine as the daily messages I normally got from him.  “Hey.  When do you leave?”  I explained that I was flying out at 6am.  “You have a ride to the airport?”  My mother was going to take me.  The questions peeked my curiosity.  He didn’t usually ask questions like this without a reason.

I thought about that.  “He didn’t usually...”  What did I know from what he usually did?  The statement was funny, because I had only met him once and yet we had talked online every day for the past 2 months.  Most of our conversations revolved around my sexual experiences with other people.  There was a definite interest in the blog, but I had first slept with him before the blog’s inception.  He and I actually first brainstormed the idea of a blog together, post-coitus.  In my brief moments of ‘knowing’ him, we had co-conspired on the birth of a blog, in which, I would talk about my sexual explorations.  Past that, we knew nothing of each other.

It only took a few lines in the chat for him to ask if I wanted to spend my last night with him and he would drop me at the airport.  I had actually thought about doing this with Lewis, but he hadn’t offered, so I didn’t broach the idea.  But, this offer was very tempting.  The only hang up was that this would be my third guy in 4 days and I was dead tired.  Meh.  Tired was just one detail of what I was and one monkey don’t stop the show.  So, ride pending, I was going to spend my last night in Houston with The Beautiful One.  God is good.  

 

I texted him saying I wasn’t coming, because I was too emotional about leaving.  He said he understood, but I should consider crying on his shoulder.  That was it.  I was going.  I said my goodbyes to my family and Lynn picked my up from my folk’s house.  He had agreed to pick me up from Lynn’s place at 10. 

Posted by Poly Amory

A Portrait of the Asshole as a Young Man 21

I have a strange hard-on for the ghetto girls.

Kool-Aid hair ...

Scoop nails ...

Embellished wardrobes ...

Gold grills (bottom row only) ...

See?  I think I like the hood chicks because they're "of the earth," as some old folks say.  I often find women I went to college with to be overly concerned with being this or being that.  Hood chicks just are what they are -- and fuck you!

Maybe it's the attitude.  Not all of them are shrewish but it helps.  Or maybe it's the fact that they'll wear a tit-exposing J-Woww shirt to work no matter what the job is.

And those cheap shoes.  I'm a foot man and, by implication, a shoe man.  I've seen a woman in brand-new Choos that didn't come close to rocking my world like the ghetto bird rocking a pair of gold spray-painted heels from Omar's Shoe Outlet at the mall.

It's a guilty pleasure... but then again so are all my pleasures.

"What are You Thinking About?"

Sometimes the answer is a mash-up, like...

Sex
Football
Work
Titties
Did I lock my car doors?
Sex
Will I be successful?
That thing I forgot to do.
Drink more water.
Ass
Etc.

Thing is, you don't really want to know what a man is thinking about, and he doesn't want to tell you because sometimes he's not even sure what the hell he's thinking about.

Men don't think so much as reflect; it's a party of one.  Don't go by our faces.  The deeper we go into our own thoughts the more our face drops.  We look like zombies but I promise it isn't the end of the world -- unless you push it.

To this day I'll even have one-night stands ask me what I'm thinking about.  I just said had sex, I want to say; with the goal achieved I don't have to think about anything right now.  Or I could be thinking about how to get rid of you with the least amount of discomfort (for me).

It occurs to me that women -- and this part is strange -- seem to be into attempting to read minds or expecting to have their minds read.  Men don't do that.  We'll ask you if something's on your mind once.  After that we just wait for you to say what's on your mind, then decide if we think it's bullshit or not.