DuckFace

Men, when you are going to send me a picture of yourself, please do not send me a picture of you puckering up your lips because you think it's cute or some model did it in an add and you think you're hot and it works.  It doesn't work, it makes you look gay.  You get this Duckface expression, and frankly, you look gay.  I like my men strong.  Thanks.

Why did I tell  you this?  Because low and behold, I had a DuckFace.  DuckFace was a nice fella.  He actually wasn't too bad looking, and sweet when I met him.  He was pretty funny...at times.  Then he liked to stick his foot in his mouth.  DuckFace loved loved loved sending me pictures of himself and constantly constantly text me. Both of which were annoying as hell.  His poses in his pictures were horrid.  He puckered his lips and turned his head to the side and snapped!  HE WAS CONTENT WITH THOSE PICTURES! How do I know he was content?  He sent the damn things to me!  C'mon! Who in their right mind would send pictures of them acting a fool and looking gay to a girl they are trying to date?  I kept thinking to myself, OH EM GEE! I MADE ONE GAY! Yes, I really thought that.  I was so scared, I kept checking to see if I had a vagina because I thought he was attracted to me because I had a penis!  I really didn't know what the hell was going on! 

Oh yea, DuckFace also had a really bad sense of humor.  DuckFace thought it was OK to insist I was a drunk (I wish I was actually) and implied that I liked Vodka sauce for pasta because there was vodka in it.  Jackass didn't know that I know my food and that there isn't any alcohol in the fucking sauce!  However, he thought it was necessary to argue that point.  Every time there was a point to be argued, I would show him the proof that I was right, just so that I was sure, and he would still say "NO!" like a fuck face DuckFace that he was. 

Now, he was nice.  But, please don't throw your religion down my throat.  Unlike many others, this one was one of mine.  Oh shit did I fuck up on that selection.  I would often hear, "Will you ever stop drinking?"  Mind you my idea of a night of drinking is no more than 2 glasses of white zinfandel.  So, DuckFace, I am slowly becoming an alcoholic slut with my boxed zinfandel.  Please come and save me because you are so right with everything and I should just stand behind your shadow as we visit the Old Country Buffet for the rest of my life because you decided to turn religious and I, being nothing because I have a pussy good for only fucking and puking out monsters, will stand behind your shadow in Muslim vail, cover, nod, and just eat salad because you are so sweet.  

I shouldn't be so mean.  DuckFace really liked me.  Then again, he said that he never really dates....so I guess he really doesn't have standards does he?

My mat is a happy camper today because he finally threw away his Polaroid and got a 3 mega pixel digital camera.

Do Not Tell Me This

Do not tell me this:

"I'm not the guy you should be with." My response is only this, "then I'll leave you when I feel that I'm falling for you," followed by a his response of "No, don't do that.  Let's see where this goes."

Are you trying to keep me around because you want a piece of ass that you'll never get, unless you are wedded on?  I'm not really sure why Idiots (men) do this.  What is your concern of my emotions if you feel that you have none for yourself.  What makes you think that I am going to stick around to you?  Is it because of your scruffy beard, perfectly husky body, mesmerizing eyes that I am hypnotized in when I gaze into them, chic style you dress yourself in, or romantic names you call me?  I'm lost.  I'm astounded that I stay around.

Here is my letter to you:

Dear You,

I don't know where you are going with this.  You seem to be more intrigued with the fact that I have a vagina that you have not seen, but yet are still trying to obtain.  You feel that your aggressive behavior that I like so very much will keep me retained to your side as you call me sweet names and sing sweet songs to me as we drive off amidst the darkness of the highways to a land where we don't care who views us, and how much fun we have.  You're success has not driven me far from you, considering that your aspirations are so close to me.  I feel that I have nothing to worry about when I'm with you, and you think the same, but you hide behind your rugged demeanor of masculinity that you will never let go.  My magnetism to you is best described as how you described it to me; I am the positive, and you are the negative...making us attracting to what can be.  But will it ever be?  What will it become.  What is your goal?

When you tell me that you have nothing to offer me but your dick, where am I to go with this in thinking what could be ahead?  What is the point of thinking of what is ahead?  Is there a reason?  Should I even bother?  You tell me, no, when I offer to leave when my cushion will be harder to fall on if I have ever reached that point.  You say, let's keep going if it happens, then you contradict your words with, you're making a left turn with me and you should be going straight.

You need to understand that it's not fair.  I'm a human and not as strong as I appear.  So, when I do leave, you were the best one that I've had...only because I loved you once.  But I loved you through another man's eyes, body, heart, and soul.  You maybe soulless, and you will never show me if you have one or not.

I am woman, hear me roar.  Although, not as loud as I anticipated through the weak point I now find myself at.  

Sincerely,

Pointless to Continue but Still Will because I'm Foolish.

Advice to Men #4

Don't tell me how bad of a Muslim or Arab I am.  I'm fully aware that I am going to hell, you fuckface.  Yeah, I know swearing is haram, too! Fuck YOU!

This is why I think some of you men are off in the head.

Advice to Men #3

Telling a girl that you want to have fun while you two are dating will not make me want you more.  In fact, you will scare me into thinking you have herpes. 

Another reason to why men are poopy.

Advice to Men #2

I will not split the bill with you on our first date.

This is also why men are poopy.

Advice to Men #1

If you have a crush on someone, grow some fucking balls and ask them out. Flirting constantly one day and not doing anything the next makes me think your vagina is large. If you don't want this, don't flirt.

This is why Women think that Men are poopy.

AABA

So, I've been busy. It's pretty obvious.  Therefore, I apologize.  However, in the past few months I have had quite the experience.  Let's just say, hold on.  I'll tell ya.

The All American BadAss

He was quite the ravishing look.  BadAss he was.  He had a chiseled face.  Perfect jawline. Perfect body.  Hot tattoos, soft spoken, and loved to have fun.  This is my All American BadAss.  AABA was found on the one and only, ArabLounge.  Yup.  This mulatto mix of Arab and White remained stagnant in the couple of months we spent together.  He wasn't very knowledgeable about his heritage, and so he took it upon himself to learn.  It was a compliment to his father's side (obviously the Arab side).  I was really quite surprised he took an interest, he seems to take interest in slutty girls.  That, unfortunately for the both of us (enter sexual frustration here) was not the type of person that I consisted of. 

You see, he never admitted to me that he was into those girls, you know the ones that he meets at a bar and fucks that same night...never to be heard from again.  However, he did admit that he looks.  How brazen of you, BadAss. Thank you for your honesty.  Although, please don't check these girls out (meaning, doing a 180 with your head) in front of me.  It's quite rude and makes me feel less than what I really am (according to the Supportive Click aka friends). 

BadAss, you're an alright guy.  You're in learning mode.  You've cleaned up your act and is trying to become a success, and I respect you.  However, it's quite hard to respect your attitude when we're in a cab and you're looking at a girl with a tight leopard print dress on.  Confidence is a sexy trait.  I am aware of this.  However, when I have a lack of it because you're checking out easy pussy, makes me a feel a bit on the bakara (cow) side.  I feel less.  I feel ugly. I feel as if I'm good to talk to (the minuscule amount of conversation that we had) and I feel like you don't appreciate who I am.  It shows me you're more shallow than intellectual.  It shows me that you're the guy at the club looking for easy pussy, thus making me think that any pimple I receive is a herpe because it was picked up from Level the night before. 

Now, Bad Ass, we're friends.  But, in the next relationship you encounter, my advice to you is the this:  make sure you stare at your woman's vajay-jay as opposed to some whore on the street.  You'll be garuneteed ass because you're giving her more attention. 

My mat is cleaning off the grime from the alleys that the streetwalkers lie between.  Apparently, BadAss found someone hot there and left some residue on the "W" of the "Welcome" part. 

Let Freedom Ring!

I went out with the Republican.  Ol' Blue Eyes scored a date.  In fact, we dated for about a month.  Here's what happened:  he was busy trying to get over the ex-girlfriend.  Yes, we stopped dating because he was still trying to get over the fact that his ex was gone (which was six months prior by the way).

Now, remember the time I rejected him the first time?  It was because I was pursuing SSG.  I didn't think it would be fair to go out with the Republican and think of SSG at the same time.  In fact, I was told by many people that it's not OK that I did that.  I was told that I should have went out with the Republican and if SSG ever came around (note to you:  he didn't...duh) then I can dump him and go to SSG.  What's funny is that I was dumped by SSG before it ever happened! Oh boy.

After dating for a month, the Republican called and noted that it was time to decipher if him and I should continue to the next step.  He then proceeded to tell me that he needed some time to think about it.  I, in turn on the next day (after being given a plethora of bull shit sprinkled with a slight ounce of "[blah blah] my ex") decided it was much safer to just end it.  And so I did.


So let me ask now, was it right of me in the first place to go out with another person when in reality I wanted someone else?  Many say yes, many others state just the opposite. 

Either way, what's fair in my head works for me.  I'll tell you why, it really sucks to be dumped because of a potential that finally comes around...or an ex. 

Yes I am aware this is short.  It's been a busy life.  Colon, Right Parenthesis.

My mat is chillin' today.  It's taking a breather from all of it's sights and realizing that sometimes it is nice to not have to worry about what type of shoes step on them...like ones that are thinking about other mats and such. 

The End of a Dream

I put the card on his car.  It was addressed to him.  I didn't leave my name in hopes that he would be smart enough to know the person who was sending this level of secret admirer type message to him.  Then, I saw him.  Sexy Sales Guy and I pulled into the parking lot of our place of work at the same time.  I have never wanted to avoid him more than that day.  It was a couple of days passed the day I gave him the card.  I was anticipating what was next, my heart was beating to the beat of a horrible rap song mixed with the ridiculous melody of DJ Tiesto and unbearable noise.  My stomach, knottier than the pubic hairs of a crack whore hooker.  The sweat started to slowly seep from my pores, and suddenly, I felt as if I had to go poop but didn't really need to.  I felt slightly nauseous and I suddenly realize that he isn't too far behind me and I must keep the door open for him.




***REWIND A COUPLE DAYS***

Just a day after I put the Happy New Years I Secretly Love You and Want to Bear Your Children card on Sexy Sales Guy's car, Ol' Blue Eyes decided to grow some.  After a couple of days passing messages back and forth via JackassBook, he asked me out.  Yes, and I replied with the fact that I'm an Arab and he's Republican and White and that I would probably punt him.  In fact, let me tell you what I put in my little Leave Me Alone message:

"Not that you're a bad guy, but I can see myself punting you if we dated, just being honest. I am an Arab and have strong political beliefs that side with what I call Palestine. You, as an American and through conversation, seem to have strong beliefs in what you would call Israel. Am I wrong? If so, please correct me. Yes, this is a major factor for me to decide my answer. "


I couldn't believe his response.  He was surprisingly (reminder:  he's Republican and very American...every Nutso's nightmare) fair!  He believes in the two state deal (not saying I do or don't...I'm extremely nationalistic with Palestine) and has some fair views on the topic.  I was shocked.  He then proceeded to give me his point in dating saying that it would be boring to date someone that is very similar to one another.  Another logical reason to never say no to someone very different.  He called me gorgeous.  Yes! Who does that?!?!?!? So then I told him the real reason I said no.  I told him about my "perusing" another person and how I don't believe in dating two guys at once and that my tactic of scaring him away didn't work.  In fact, here you go for shits and giggles:

"Ok, well i have to be honest with you. The reason i gave you the I'm Muslim schpeel was because I was trying to scare you off in a way. (in which I didn't, so kudos to you).

Here's why. I have taken on an interest in someone and have been for a while. I decided to grow some and find a way to let this guy know that. Although, it wasn't something that was directly said to him. If I were to go on a date with you, it really wouldn't be fair because someone else is on my head.

I just didn't want to say that to you because, well, i thought it was rude. I'm sorry if I came of crazy, it's because I sort of am."

*Footnote for later...keep this message in mind for future blog reference.*

***FAST FORWARD BACK TO SSG AND MY STOMACH IN KNOTS***

He was walking down the stairs to the entrance of the hell (aka work) and told me that I didn't have to hold the door open for him. I think it would quite rude if I just walked away, yes he wasn't very close, but not far either. I love him. I mean... 

I felt as if poop was coming out of my face at this point.  I told him that it's OK and it kills more time for me to hold the door open (horrible humor) so that I don't have to get back to work.  Then small talk.  "I'm going on vacation" says SSG and he tells me about the trip that he is oh so excited about.  For some reason, I also asked if he was from here (Chicago) and he tells me no.  He's from good 'ol Michigan (hence why he roots for them) and some more small talk.  Then the elevator hits his floor.  It illuminated the what was dim elevator and he stepped out.  He was gone.  Kinda like Houdini, the fucker left the elevator and said nothing! NOTHING! Nothing about he card!!!

I was slightly relieved and disappointed.  I thought to myself the following:

• No ring, so he is probably in a serious relationship 
• Oh my God! Maybe he's excited about his trip because he's going to propose to a longtime girlfriend
• He's really 40 and looks VERY YOUNG for his age (not likely...but any excuse will do) 
• He doesn't know it was me that left the card (C'mon...how couldn't he?  We had many conversations about my college of choice and his college of choice! In fact, he wears a shirt that says MICHIGAN on it when works out!) 
• He doesn't like me
• He is gay

Another week passes by and I haven't seen sight of Sexy Sales Guy.  When I dropped the card off, I thought they were moving in the beginning of February and it turns out it was going to be end of February. VERY uncomfortable to try to avoid the man I was mentally having sex with every day at least twice (note: we made beautiful children...mentally).  I then go off to lunch with Baldhead (co worker) and SSG is in the same lot as I and kinda in the way.  As I was pulling out (that's what he said) he continuously waved at me. 

Baldhead then says "Either he's gay and likes me or he's really digging you!" because of the constant waving in a matter of 2 minutes!

It's the end of February.  The last day of February would've been my day to say goodbye.  My last view of Sexy Sales Guy (that is, if he came to the ivory building...work) and I had to take off that morning due to an unfortunate circumstance.  At that point, I realized that I would never see or be with Sexy Sales Guy when I came to complete the day at work.  And I was right.

****

If the mat was on clearance, Sexy Sales Guy would not purchase it.  He would just laugh and pass it by while whispering "Happy New Year".

Hitching A Ride

As you recall, I left you two different stories about two different men.  I also peppered in a another one. That one doesn't really have much relevance, just yet.  He has plenty of relevance to my life.  I am just debating if that relevance is either good or bad.  Therefore, for the time being, he is skipped until further notice.

So I take you back one and two blogs.  Let's go back two blogs for a moment. I left you with Sexy Sales Guy.  This was the short one with the dark features who illuminated people's world for money and mine for free (although, it's not 'that' type of illumination...and not the dirty type either).  Enter confused face here.  I have, for about two years, had a crush on this man.  We had many chance encounters and learned a bit about each other with each encounter.  I also left you with an act that I committed.  I left a card on his car that was pretty vague, yet it referenced many conversations him and I had about the NCAA Basketball Championships of 2009.  Yes, I referred quite a ways back, but seriously, he couldn't have been that stupid enough to NOT know who it was. 

You will also remember Ol' Blue Eyes.  He was the one that I met a Smiley's Debacle and learned later at the Benefit that he asked out College Buddy's Sister.  I found this out at the Benefit in January of 2010.  Let's emphasize on this a bit more.  Now, Parole and Blue Eyes decided to stay at this venue and dance the night away with College Buddy and College Buddy's Sibling (the Debacle a year before).  Apparently, both Parole and Blue Eyes received a phone number of College Buddy's Sibling and both later tried calling her (the both of them at separate events).  Now, if you put enough liquor in one's system, anyone and everyone is gorgeous! Even the Parole child, who by the way has a child.  To my shock, he knows who the mother is! WOOHOO! Well, come time for the Benefit, we are all reunited except for the sibling.  Sibling, MIA.  I don't blame her.  Now, I was told of this story at the Benefit and wasn't really sure what was going on.  With the help of Instigator (Blue Eyes), he was happy to embark on the previous year's event that evening.  After many minutes of argument, and by far it was very entertaining to me, the conversation was over. 

Now, the Parole's ride was long gone (which was his mother, his friend, and his son who cannot drive but came because his father is the Parole) because he decided to stay and get drunk! As the Benefit's evening was coming to a close, Parole decided to volunteer a ride out of me, which wasn't happening.  I wasn't about to drive him anywhere and risk the chance of receiving any type of STD that was as drunk as the gifter of such a wonderful infection. 

Hey, the nice thing about herpes is that the memory of the person that gave it to you will never leave you! And if you forgot, a random burning feeling will let ya remember!!! YAY!  Well, I managed to escape. 

Later, I find out that Blue Eyes was left with such a gift, Parole.  It was very nice of him, and I am sure he enjoyed some hard core drunken action.  Well, think about it this way, the both tried leaving with someone, little did they know it would be with each other.

Any who, as Facebook allows, Ol' Blue Eyes found me thanks to mutual friends (whom I will kick later because of this) and sent me a message telling me he was stuck taking the drunken imbecile (Parole) to another bar! Who'd a thunk another bar?! Actually, I would and did think that. Shut up. There's always a beginning to another DUI story.  After a few messages, he grew up the nerve to ask me out.  I thought, "WOW! Persistent!" I had turned this guy down before because I was in a relationship, and he still asked me out a year later (and he knew I was no longer tied down to stalker boy...again...he'll have his day in another blog). 

There was a problem.

That same week he asked me out, I had placed the card on SSG's car!  I was waiting for what may have happened to that! So what did I do?  I said no.  Why?  Here was the excuse, he was Caucasian and a Republican and a devout Catholic.  Just in case we forgot here, I'm Arab, Democratic, and a devout Palestinian.  The Muslim thing doesn't affect me as much as being Palestinian. Can you imagine me bringing home a Republican?  "Hey mom, here's my Republican boyfriend!" and he introduces himself and asks why no one in the house goes by the name of Jihad. Although, that would be hilarious.  In fact, I would like very much for that to happen just for sheer entertainment. 

Again with the tangents. 

Ol' Blue Eyes gave me his two cents and it made plenty sense.  He tells me his view on the Palestine/Israel topic (which was shockingly great) and his belief of being different is great.  I thought after that, wow I'm screwed.  Here I am trying to get you off my back and you won't stop.  So I told him.  I said that I was persuing someone.  And that was the end of that. At least until I saw SSG the day after I placed the card on his car.

My mat is a bit damp tonight.  It's sweating from anticipation of what may happen next (even though it knows what happens next, but it doesn't want you to sweat alone).