Category Archives: Dating blows donkey

Part One: The DWI.

This is the same opening to a post as many that I’ve written before—I haven’t been completely honest with you all. And you know what I’ve realized? When you can’t be honest in your anonymous blog; something ain’t right.

And if you want the truth, it hasn’t been right for an entire month now. It started, sort of, with a DWI.

A week before my mom came to town, D had been working a lot. It was “busy season” at the restaurant and he was constantly stressed. He was also constantly drunk.

Every time he would come over to my house after work, or me go to his, he would be drunk, and I don’t mean tipsy. I mean hammered. He would pick fights with me, or make up things that I said, and I would often sit and cry while he just sat there and watched.

After one particularly brutal fight, I told him he should ease up on the booze and he agreed. Then my mom came to town and things were okay. A few days after she left, I got a call from D at 4 am.

D: Lucky?

ME: Hello? Yes.

D: Can you come pick me up?

NOTE: He sounded sober as hell, I thought he had car trouble.

ME: Of course baby where are you?

D: I’m at Troop A, do you know where that is?

ME: Yes. I’ll be there.

D: When?

ME: I’m going to get out of bed, put pants on, and leave, okay?

D: okay, hurry.

I had no idea what was going on, but I assumed it was something to do with his drinking. I put on the rest of my pajamas (a matching set of pink plaid button ups from Victoria Secret) and jumped in my car. He told me to call him when I got there.

I did and he told me the cop would come outside to get me. I waited, nearly shaking, as the cop came and escorted me into a room that looked like a classroom. He was sitting on a bench that had cuffs attached to it; he was wearing his suit from work.

“I just need to wrap up his paperwork and then you all can go home,” the cop said.

I sat on the bench with D, my boyfriend, who was obviously in some serious trouble. He talked to me like everything was normal. He was drunk.

When the cop finished his paperwork, he needed D’s signatures. I heard the charges: improper lane usage, a DWI (he blew a .217), and had expired plates (they were a year overdue).

The cop then told D that he had a drinking problem.

“I don’t know what is causing this problem, but you need to figure it out. This is your second DWI, if you get a third, you go straight to jail, no matter if you blow or not. Since you blew over a .20, I would advise you to bring your toothbrush when you go to court—you’ll probably spend 48 hours in jail. Drinking and driving does not mix. Do I need to show you pictures of accidents caused by drinking? Because it’s complete mayhem.”

“No sir,” D said.

“Okay, well I’m letting you go home tonight, but please do not consider this a free ride,” the cop said.

D promised that he knew it wasn’t a free ride, and we were free to leave. We got in my car and D, still drunk, started rambling on about, maybe he does have a problem, maybe he should try to get help, maybe he should just move to China, etc.

“If you were looking for a reason to get out, now would be the time to do it,” he said.

“I’m not getting out,” I said.

“Do you normally pick up your boyfriends from the police station?” he asked.

Truthfully, no. But, as I told D, everyone makes mistakes. The question is, are you going to learn from it?

We got to my apartment, D ate, and we went to bed a little after 5 am…

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A conversation with my boyfriend.

Below is a conversation I had with D last night, via text, because he is a big pussy and won’t talk to me on the phone. I was going to post this whole schpeal and everything leading up to the conversation, but honestly, it’s pretty self-explanatory. Enjoy.

8:13 D—How’d class go?

8:14 ME **calling D**

8:14 ME—You never answer!

9:26 D—I passed out.

9:51 D—Guess you did as well. Sorry

9:53 D— 😦

9:55 D—Goodnight

9:57 ME—Goodnight

10:01 D—You ok?

10:02 ME—No.

10:02 D— Talk to me tell me.

10:03 ME—I’ve been trying to call you, text you for 24 hours and I feel like you are pushing me away. I don’t know what I did but I can’t guess on how to solve the problem.

10:04 D—I’m sorry I’m not trying to

10:04 ME—I feel like you hate me.

10:04 D—I don’t hate you.

10:05 ME—Yes, it has been distant but its been a rough few weeks. I am someone who likes to work things out if they are worth a try. we’ve been in a great place before so I don’t feel like it’s a lost cause but ignoring me is not the answer. I just had a freaking meltdown.

10:07 D—I’m so sorry. So much has been going on with work and what not. I’m trying to deal with it.

10:07 ME—D, I understand that. But you have to tell me stuff, I cannot just guess. The person I love tells me he’s not happy in the relationship…that is the worst feeling. I can’t even get my boyfriend to talk to me.

10:10 D—it’s not you. I’m unhappy with my situation.

10:11 ME—Well, would you be happier without me around.

10:12 D—Noooooo I would never say that

10:12 ME—Well I have to ask because it feels that way

10:13 D—I’m so sorry

10:14 ME—I understand you’ve got stuff to deal with. But we are in a relationship. You can tell me stuff. I will always do what I can to help you, even if you need a night alone or whatever. we are both in this and we are supposed to be able to count on each other

10:15 D—I know

10:28 D—sleeping?

10:30 ME—No.

10:31 D—I can’t say sorry enough.

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The Hangout

So this guy, we’ll call him Magic Mike, invited me to come on the boat on Monday. But, because of my stupid job and the fact that I didn’t have time to “request off”, I couldn’t go. So after some back and forth we decided to hang out Wednesday night instead.

The plan was that we were going to go for drinks with his friend from college and a friend of that guy’s who is a girl. We had a good time (I thought), the whole witty/flirty banter was there, and we had a deep convo about Bruno Mars (HAHA! I don’t think I’ve expressed to you all my love and admiration for Bruno Mars, but the fact that this happened got this guy major points in my book). We exchanged your typical date like questions, where are you from, what sports did you play, etc… etc… And just as we were finishing up the night, we both noticed that the other “couple” had downed like 5-6 drinks a piece. Magic Mike and I were both on our second. Granted they were huge 32 ounce drinks, so I wouldn’t say either of us were sober, but it suddenly dawned on me that the other 2 people were shitfaced. About that time they started making out hardcore. Like standing up, knocking stools over, and basically dry humping and spilling our drinks everywhere. It. was. awesome.

So Magic Mike and I got them to stop sucking face long enough to tell them we were going to leave them alone and head home. At this point, I was really nervous because I knew that end of the night awkward moment was probably going to happen, so I think the whole way back to my apartment words were just coming out of my mouth in no particular order, I honestly can’t even remember what I was saying.

He walked me to my door and then the awkward moment happened. I told him I had fun and was glad I got to meet some new people. He laughed and said he wasn’t sure if those were the type of people I wanted to meet but it was fun either way. And then I blacked out, like I honestly don’t remember what we said next, all I know is that I was standing there thinking, “Is he going to kiss me or not?” Then the next thing I know, we’re just standing there looking at each other and he says, “Okay, well I’ll see you later.” And walked away with NO KISS! Not even a hug. What. The. Fuck.

I really contemplated texting him after he left about the no kiss, but I didn’t because I thought maybe he just really wasn’t that into me. Which was something I struggled with all week to Gigi and she kept assuring me that he was because, “Remember Gizzy, he was SOBER when he met you and you were a hot drunken mess. He still asked for your number and still texted you to hang out. He’s into it.” So, I decided that I’d wait to see if he texted me or anything the next day. Which never happened, so that night I texted him asking if he had heard if his friends made it home alive.

He told me that his friend told him that after we left the guy drunkenly realized he wasn’t interested and they went their separate ways. We texted back and forth a few times, I fell asleep and Friday morning I replied to his last text, which got no response.

In typical Gizzy fashion, I started to freak out. I really didn’t/don’t expect anything major to happen with this guy. He’s 23, about to leave for the summer and then a few months later will be leaving to go overseas for a year, and from what I’ve gathered from social media, he’s a huge player, or pretends to be. What I DID want to happen, was a nice hookup. I’m a whore. He’s just so hot.

So anyway, Gigi has a guy in my city that she has been texting with that she wants to meet up with, so she planned another trip down this coming weekend. The plan was to get Magic Mike to come out with us and make it a nice little foursome, but since I hadn’t heard from him I was all ehhh I don’t know if it’s going to happen. We concocted a plan for me to text him mid-week to ask if he would be working this weekend. If he is – we’d go to his bar and drink, if he isn’t – we’d invite him out with us.  But something happened before I was able to follow through with that plan.

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Gizzy re-enters the dating world

Last Tuesday just as I was getting off work the one friend I have in my city texted me and told me to come meet her at a bar, there were some friends of hers there that she wanted to introduce me to.  So I went, and when our server walked up I was speechless and a little flabbergasted at how hot he was. It was so bad that every time he walked by I got distracted and found myself staring.  Embarrassingly enough, he caught me on more than one occasion.  Needless to say, I got to meet some new people and stare at a hot man.  

The weekend rolled around and Gigi drove down for a visit Saturday night, she had just gotten back from a week long trip to Puerto Rico with Chuck, Nutter Butter, and some other people.  I was nervous about the trip because I assumed Nutter Butter would hook up with someone and I didn’t know if I was ready to handle hearing that.  She called me when they got back and told me he didn’t do anything so I could rest easy.  When she got to my city on Saturday and we went to lunch she told me that she had a sit down talk with him and was asking what really happened in our relationship.  He basically confirmed my worst fear and what I suspected all along, he just wanted to hook up with me.  It had always been a fantasy of his, that’s all it was to him, he’s also still in love with his ex-girlfriend but she’s married and lives 3000 miles away.  I got used.

That pissed me off enough to be all, “Lets get wasted tonight and find hot men!!!” And that we did. We went to the same bar from Tuesday and sure enough the same hot server was working and was our server again.  I expressed to Gigi how hot I thought he was and that I kind of have a staring problem and can’t look away, so we came up with a plan for me to start up a conversation with him outside of our drink order.  Earlier that day Betty had forwarded me a dick pic from her exboyfriend.  I had a good laugh because it was the guy standing infront of a mirror full on naked with a flaccid penis.  I couldn’t understand why any guy would send a flaccid penis pic, so that’s what I was going to ask this guy because I can’t break the ice in a non-awkward/not showing him another guy’s penis way.  I showed him the picture and he sat down and analyzed with us.  The rest of the night any time he had a free minute he’d come and sit down to talk with us and hung around for an extra hour after his shift ended.

To my surprise, he has already graduated college and has a full time job as a teacher but does the serving thing part time.  Before he left that night he asked for my number and asked if I wanted to go boating with him Monday…

…To be continued.

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I can’t remember if I told you all last year about how my company offers a health and wellness program during the summer. Last year I was hired into the company about halfway through it, but I still signed up because the incentives were nice. You get $100 if you complete the program, along with weekly prizes for meeting goals. The prizes are pretty awesome too, and not just a “chance to win” type of deal – last year I won a massage, a gift card to a health foods store, and sunglasses. The best part about the program is that each person also gets a health coach. Last year my health coach was Gary. He’s about 65 and I’m pretty sure was an ex-drill sergeant for the military. Gary thought I was a slacker and basically hated my guts because of it.

The program works like this, you go in to the health and wellness office to sign up for the program, they assign you a coach and within the next week or so you meet with the coach to get your supplies, set your goals, and get all the info. Last year when I met with Gary I was a little taken aback because he was so fierce. They give you a little pedometer watch that tracks your heart rate and God knows what else. Gary put the fear in me when he said YOU DO NOT TAKE THIS OFF FOR ANY REASON! So I set my daily fitness goals, which was like a measly 2 or 3 miles, and Gary wrote down a grocery list and meal plan for me. I followed the meal plan for like half a day because Gary is old and put crap like calf’s liver on it. I mean first of all, if I was up for eating calf’s liver where would I even buy such a thing? Second, no. The other piece to this puzzle is that every morning by 11am I was to send Gary a list of everything I ate the previous day so he could track my progress. Gary got real pissed when I started eating Wendy’s and pizza in place of calf’s liver and brussel sprouts. He also told me absolutely NO BEER, which is a rule I broke within hours of meeting with him. It got so bad that he would start calling me around lunchtime to see if I made sure to pack my veggies. Ok, DAD. However, I did meet my fitness goals so I won the prizes I mentioned before, but that wasn’t good enough for Gary.

So this year when I went into the wellness office to sign up I asked the Program Coordinator to not assign me to Gary. She had a good old laugh, because she knew what I had gone through the previous year. Then she was all, oh no, I HAVE JUST THE PERFECT COACH FOR YOU! So I was all awesome, wish me God speed if that person is anything at all like Gary. So Friday at lunch I walked over to the office again to meet with my coach, Trey.

I walked into Trey’s office and to my surprise he was young, and really hot. So we went over my fitness and food plan, luckily Trey gave me a list of normal foods to eat and he was being all yeah lets run together and saying he could show me how to make some cool dishes with the foods he had put on my grocery list, so we exchanged numbers. As I was sitting there I was thinking, well having HIM as a coach will certainly be some motivation not to screw it up this time. So before I left I asked Trey what his deal was, how he landed his job ended up in our city, etc. He told wme that he had worked at our company as an intern while he was in college, and when he graduated 2 weeks ago they promoted him. So at best, he’s probably 23. And I’m still 28. Christ.

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The diagnosis.

To be honest with you all, part of me thought that jumping into this fun and very sweet relationship would fix a lot of my problems—make me feel better about myself. I wondered if I would even have stuff to talk to Lopez about.

Well, as you can probably imagine, it didn’t fix me, and I still have plenty to talk to Lopez about.

Our appointment last week (which went over 12 minutes) proved that. I told him that despite things going well with D, whenever we part ways, I find I feel this heaviness on my back. Like I cannot hold my head up.

It’s not like we fight and I get upset or that I’m scared he’ll cheat, it’s just a heavy feeling for reasons I can’t quite pinpoint yet.

I shared with Lopez a piece of my past that I hadn’t yet: 2 boyfriends I had years ago “dumped” me by simply not talking to me.

The first was a boy named Adam. He was my best friend, and we fell in love one summer during college. We decided to stay together when school started, despite living states away. In October, I flew to visit him for a few days. We had a great time, but when he took me to the airport, we were both really sad.

When I landed back at school, he was weird on the phone. Eventually, he stopped answering my calls, texts, emails… and I never saw him again. I knew it was over when he started posting pictures of him with a girl (his now-wife) on Halloween, just weeks after I saw him.

That was about 8 years ago. I dated someone two years later, who drove me back home so he could meet my parents. We had a great time and laughed all the way back to our city. But when I dropped him off at his house, I felt the weight.

In the days following, he didn’t answer my calls or texts. I knew it was over. I cried during my walks to class.

When I told Lopez this, he paused, and told me this.

“You’re reacting to something that was very traumatic,” he said. “It’s like you have PTSD.”

While I’d heard of PTSD and knew a little about it, I did some Googling. Here’s what I found:

Posttraumatic stress disorder (PTSD) is a severe anxiety disorder that can develop after exposure to any event that results in psychological trauma. This event may involve the threat of death to oneself or to someone else, or to one’s own or someone else’s physical, sexual, or psychological integrity, overwhelming the individual’s ability to cope. As an effect of psychological trauma, PTSD is less frequent and more enduring than the more commonly seen post traumatic stress (also known as acute stress response). Diagnostic symptoms for PTSD include re-experiencing the original trauma(s) through flashbacks or nightmares, avoidance of stimuli associated with the trauma, and increased arousal—such as difficulty falling or staying asleep, anger, and hypervigilance. Formal diagnostic criteria require that the symptoms last more than one month and cause significant impairment in social, occupational, or other important areas of functioning.

Hmm yeah, I fit like all of that.

It’s like, the logical side of me knows that when me and D part ways, like when I leave for work in the mornings, and everything is fine, that everything will continue to be fine until it’s not fine anymore. But my heart, my heart knows that things have been fine before and then they weren’t for no logical reason, and at this point, I am invested and that scares the shit out of me.

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Meet the parents.

It’s Monday… a Monday after a long, relaxing weekend and work is pretty much the LAST place I want to be (not that there’s ever a day I’m looking forward to being here…).

I didn’t say it last week, but yesterday, I met D’s mom and dad. I was fretting over it all week long. Let me tell you how this went down.

D mentioned meeting his parents weeks ago when he met my friends. I was shocked, to which he said, “Well you don’t have to meet them.” I absolutely wanted to meet them, it was just that I’ve never had a boyfriend want me to meet his family. When I dated BEX, I had to present him with an ultimatum to meet his parents. I finally did, but never saw them again.

The two boyfriends I had before that, I didn’t meet their families. The guy I dated before that, my first love, I met his parents but I think it was by default since we had been friends for years before we dated. To make it even better, his parents hated me, and I think that weighed heavily on him.

So, I was shocked.

Our original plan for Easter was casual, join a friend of D’s for dinner. I was happy and a little nervous just to meet this friend, but looking forward to it. Then on Tuesday, D texts me this:

D: Church on Sunday.

ME: What about it?

D: You are going.

ME: Alright.

D: Well you don’t have to…

ME: I am happy to go, just tell me when and where.

D: We need to be there at 9:45, I was thinking I’ll stay at your place Saturday night and we can go together.

ME: Sounds good.

D: good, they are excited.

ME: Who is “they”?

D: Parents.


D: What?

ME: Nervous.

When we hung out later that night, I asked D what kind of church it was. Baptist.

Yeah, just sit on that for a moment. Considering I’m a (barely) functioning alcoholic, have committed adultery, and have had an abortion, I was picturing this lovely church going up in flames upon my entrance on Easter Sunday. Hmph.

Then, I asked him, “Is it just church, or…” and he quickly told me no, we would be going to his parents’ for lunch afterward. Then, he dropped one final bomb on me—I’d be meeting his brothers, too, and their families.


After picking out a dress for church, I was ready to roll come Sunday morning (I didn’t drink much Saturday night and went to bed early so I’d be bright-eyed).

We drove to church, which was packed of course, and met his parents and one of his brothers. I’ll just say it so it’s out there… his dad is pretty hot.

Anyway, we go into the church and it’s a concert. No, seriously. There was a singer and a microphone and the lights were off, minus colorful spotlights on the stage. There was a drum set and guitar players and flat screens with the words on them, because the songs they were singing were original songs about Jesus, not the ones we all know.

While I’d never seen anything quite like this at a church, I was thankful that it wasn’t quite and awkward, complete with Bible verse readings. We were sitting in metal folding chairs in the very back row, an usher had guided us to our seats, and moved us twice already. A third time he came over, saying we needed to move one more time.

“I’m so, so sorry,” he said. “It’s just that, they’re bringing a casket in, and it’s going to be a tight squeeze.”

A casket? I started to get sweaty.

They brought the casket in (it had deer antlers on it) to represent a modern-day tomb. When the pastor opened the casket, it was lined with camouflage. Ha.

After making it through the service, I had a short break from the parents during the drive to their house…


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