Little black book app?

Have you  ever  received  a  random  text  of  unknown  origin?  Such  texts...we  know  what  they  are  all  about.  Usually  generic  in  nature,  usually  late  at  night  without  any  identifiable  or  personalized  details  to  indicate  that  the  sender  actually  knows  you,  or  you  even  know  the  sender.  Just  a  "Hey,  what's  going  on?"  sort  of  text.  Wow.  Am  I  to  be  so  flattered  that  you,  this  unidentifiable  texter  thought  of  me,  and  only  me  at  this  hour  of  the  evening?  Well,  let's  give  some  of  these  rampant  texters  the  benefit  of  the  doubt  but  for  the  others it's  recently  given  me  cause  to  wonder.  

It's not that I'm so popular. One could argue that I'm simply getting old and have a faulty memory. Really it's more that until I'm interested enough in someone, as in, a few actual phone calls have occurred and possibly a real date, I'm not likely to commit this person's phone number to proverbial phone contact memory. Who wants to save someone's contact information who may not actually call, or who you may not want to call back anyway? And the truth is, for me, if things don't go well I'm more a slash and burn kind of girl. Even if I've saved a phone number I'm very likely to delete all contact information, e-mails and the like. So when the occasional random text of unknown origins appears, I have to wonder, is there some little black book app out there? If not I just now coined the term and idea so please do not develop such an app without permission.  Do  such  men  send  out  hundreds  of  generic  texts  at  once?   Imagine this little black book app if you will... These player men could store numbers of women they may want to contact in the future, keep it separate from their real contacts. Perhaps a mass text could be sent to all these ladies in the app book, as law of averages would dictate if you throw out enough bait your bound to catch something. Just know, if you are to respond to such a text, you'll very likely be thrown back eventually. Like a little black book app catch and release. How do I get so lucky? I can safely say this, he didn't. 

Is chivalry dead? And other questions about the dating dance...

Dating is like a weird dance. Sometimes well choreographed and other times just free-styled.  Either way certain rules exist, basic rules that we should abide by. One of these such rules is the notion of chivalry. Chivalry is often associated with qualities of the classic knight such as courage, honor and a sense of justice.  In the modern world, chivalry is extended to courteous behavior, especially toward women. As modern, independent  women  we can still  be  all  that  without  losing  ourselves  in  the  process. Rather, It is the  mark of a strong  woman  to  assert our wants  and needs. We should expect and demand basic human regard in the dance we call dating. Chivalry means more than just opening a car door in my humble opinion. Maybe it's just me, but when did we lose the simplest rules of dating that dictate that the boy calls the girl days in advance for a date?  A day and  time  is  determined. He shows up even. He may even open that car door. When a man calls, err rather texts you at the last moment to ask you "what you're up to later," he's saying many different things. You lose a piece of yourself when you allow someone  else  to make  you feel as though you are not important, that you don't deserve basic human  courtesy. You're not foremost on his mind, or he hoped something or someone else might pan out but it didn't so he's texting you now. Barring many other variables, he's otherwise saying that you were not important enough to make proper plans in advance, and worse, he feels you are sitting around at his beck and call for that all important text.  I don't know about you, but I don't want to be a consolation prize or a notch on the ol' bedpost. I want to be with someone who truly wants to be with me, that feels those inexplicable butterflies when he's with me and all that other mushy stuff. I'm not an  afterthought or a back-up plan. Bear this in mind when you get that last minute offer...  and don't waste the pretty on someone who doesn't hold you in high enough esteem to give you any forethought. You're liable to get the proverbial door slammed in your face rather than opened for you. If that happens, find the one who is waiting in the wings to dance any  way you choose together.

And the crux of the problem, it feel like little girls don't learn how to be loved anymore and boys don't learn how...this perhaps is a thought to ponder onto for next time... I already have just the tune in my head.

Read the following from the site Texts Last Night should that text be of um, this variety... the modern variation of the old fashioned booty call (and this is a tame one from that site)...   You're going to love yourself even more when you turn your phone off.  

textsfromlastnight.com 

(801): hey, what are you doing tonight?
(646): sleeping, g'night!
(801): but i wanted to see you :(
(646): sleeping! g'night!

(801): i miss you!
(646): stop - you have a right hand - use it!

Stranger with Benefits?

As  I  have  grown  up  I  find  increasingly  that  boys  will  still  be  boys.    These so-called  men  I  meet  are  not  interested  in  a  relationship.   They  don't  even  pretend  for  a  few  dates  to  truly  like  you  before  trying  to  take  off  your  pants.   And  I  have  decided  that  perhaps  such  honesty  is  in  a  warped  way  refreshing  as  I  can  swiftly  say  thanks  but  no  thanks.  I  know  I'm  not  alone  with  such  experiences.    I  met  someone  on  a  blind  date  once  for  lunch.    I  knew  right  away  it  was  not  meant  to  be  a  love  match  but  we  had  an  amiable  enough  time  through  lunch.    At  the  end  of  the  meal  he  said  "I  want  to  tell  you  I'm  wildly  attracted  to  you.    How  would  you  feel  about  being  friends  with  benefits?"    WHAT?    First  instinct  was  to  throw  a  drink  in  his  face.    Instead  I  thanked  him  for  his  honesty  and  said  that  it  was  my  understanding  that  if  one  were  to  have  a  friend  with  benefits  (operative  word  here  being  friend)  one  must  be  friends  at  least,  and  well,  we're  strangers.    So  thanks  but  no  thanks  buddy.   That  he  could  look  at  me  with  his  overly  tanned  skin,  aging  him  at  least  15  years  and  think  he  was  doing  me  a  favor  by  offering  me  his  services  was  seriously  comical.    Sorry  dude,  I'm  not  that  girl.    Besides,  better  to  have  a  good  toy  then  a  stranger  with  benefits.  

Love this song...even if it's kinda wrong.   Who really wants to be the one on the side? 

I'm not your therapist....

Or  why  you  shouldn't  date  anyone  who  makes  you  want  to  throw  your  phone  part 2

 

Maybe  it's  a  cultural  or  geographical  thing,  but  I  was  having  a  conversation  with  someone I  didn't  know  well recently  and  he  started  a  sentence  with  "My  therapist  said..."   and a conversation ensued  from there.  A  very  long,  one-sided  conversation. I'm  all  for  therapy  if  you  need  it  however  if  I  am  considering  dating  you,  I  need  not  be  privy  to  the  nitty  gritty  details  of  your  last  ten  sessions  with  said  therapist.    TRANSFERENCE  anyone?    Google  it.    Seriously.    Dude....    Every  other  sentence  should  not  begin  with  the  word  "therapist"  or  "therapy"  or  about  how  that  hour  a  week  is  the  highlight  of  your  week.    I  don't  need  to  know  your  deep  dark  issues.    Truly,  I've  already  been  through and  survived  my  own  divorce  and  I  don't  wish  to  relive  mine  or  endure  yours.    Period.    A  huge,  HUGE  difference  exists  between  the  requisite exchange  of  past  dating  histories and  actually  forcing  another down  your  personal  hell.   Oh  but  there  was  more.    He  was  apparently  still  lamenting  the  end  of  a  relationship  with  his  recent  girlfriend,  and his  divorce wasn't  finalized  yet.   Yet  part  of  me  having  survived  a  painful  divorce  feels  for  anyone  hurting,  so  my  inner  therapist  patiently  listened.  I  really  tried.... Until  I  had  that  overwhelming  urge  to  throw  the  phone...  or  beat  myself  about  the  head  with  the  phone. (I'm  now  putting  that  inner  empathetic,  sympathetic  therapist  in  time-out  before  I  end  up  in  therapy.)  Instead  I  simply  asked  if  he  truly  felt  he  was  ready  to  be  in  a  relationship.  Answer:   "My  therapist  says...."    Seriously?  I  learned  long  ago  that  even  when  you  think  you're  ready  to  date  after  divorce,  you're  not.  You  must  heal,  learn  to  be  alone,  to  be  still.  Rebound  people  are  labeled  as  such  for  a  reason.  Such  a  huge  difference  exists  between  need  and  want.   Lonely  and  alone.  I  could  only  imagine  the  static  cling  involved,  not  to  mention  the  headaches and  replacement  phones  needed  from  pursuing  a  relationship  with  such  a  person.   So,  as  an  addendum  to  the  previous  rule  beyond  don't  date  anyone  that  makes  you  want  to  throw your  phone;   don't  date  anyone  who  thinks  you  are  his substitute therapist  and/or mother AND makes  you  want  to  throw  your  phone.  Ouch  my  head  hurts  just  thinking  about  it....  Can we say NEUROTIC?   

Check  out  the  YouTube  video  above  featuring  art  by  Mark  Ryden,  one  of  my  all-time  favorite  co-dependent  anthems. Greatness.  We  are  learning  so  much  about  psychology  today...  xx

Never date anyone who makes you want to throw your phone... Part 1

and  other  such nonsensical  rules....

Now  I  realize  this  may  be  MY  problem.    Perhaps  I  don't  play  well  with  others.    Maybe  I  need  my  own  sandbox,  but  it  doesn't  really  matter  because  if  I'm  dating  someone  and  he  is  irritating  me  to  the  point  that I  want  to  hurl  my  precious  iPhone  across  the  room..well  this  must  be  a  telling  sign.    For  one  of us.   Probably  both.    I  have  a  vast  amount  of  patience  for  well-intentioned  idiots.   Plus,  it's  no  secret  that  I  do  love  my  iPhone.   My  iPhone  is  like  a  highly  paid,  imaginary  friend  of  sorts.   With  apps.   I'm  sure  I  could  find  an  app  that  will  tell  me  I'm  pretty  every  day  in  a  sultry  masculine  voice  and I  would  be  pretty  well  set  for  life,  or  at  least  another  week  or  so. I say imaginary friend because as much as I do enjoy texting, emailing, IM'ing and all those other 'ings,  at  times  I  feel  I as though I could be  chatting  with  just  about  anyone  really,  both  platonic  and  otherwise.  The best  thing  about  such modes  of  communication  is  that  one  can  instantaneously,  and  when  you  think  about  it,  passive  aggressively,  speak  to  anyone  without  the  extra  effort  required  to  actually  pick  up  the  darn  phone and  talk. Weird. You  know,  with  actual  vocal  cords.  Novel  idea  I  know.  Here's  a  shocking  truth:  I  have  a.... wait  for  it.... LAND  LINE  (insert  gasp  here)!   I've  given  this  number  before  when  meeting  a  potential  suitor,  only  to  have  said  suitor  e-mail  me  later,  yes  e-mail, to  let  me  know  my  number  must  not  be  right  because  after  all,  he  tried  to  text  me  (of  course)  and  it  didn't  go  through,  of  course. Thus  starts  the  beginnings  of  what  could  very  well  be  a  text  only  relationship.   Do  you  really  want  to  be  with  someone  who  cannot  go  the  extra  step  and  dial  your  digits  because  he  wants  to  hear  your  beautiful  voice?  And  a  text  only  relationship  is  just  begging  for  all  sorts  of  textual  frustration.  Many  misunderstandings  and  arguments  could  be  avoided  by  simply  having  a  five  minute  phone  conversation.  Text  lacks  eye contact, a  voice... tone, word connotation, connectivity, inflection... misunderstandings occur,  or  too  much  reading  between  the  lines  or  lack  thereof  making  me  want  to  again,  throw  my  phone or perhaps other objects. Perhaps I just need to get with the textual revolution as it is still Friday night... sort of. THIS, however, is a tale for another time. Let's  try putting these non-phone hurling techniques to the test for a day or so. If you find yourself like me, wanting to throw your phone, at least wait next until month when the iPhone 5 comes out.