Truth about the truth

I have been waiting to finish this story of mine that I started writing so long ago. I actually started while I was still in the relationship I was speaking about, but I thought I might go and publish it in hopes that I might one day feel this way again.

To find love is an art form of sorts. Not an art form in the sense of the details. How it happens. Where. Who. Because once you find it, the real thing, you realize that it is nothing like the movies or romance novels or even in the stories of friends. Though there are many movies that are moving, and carry off amazing plots displaying great heights of love, the art form of finding love lies in the emotion; it lies is your own experience. Basically, it is being ready for love. Recognizing it. Embracing it. Loving it. That is essentially what great love stories convey at their core, deep emotion, emotion that is not hindered or blanketed by fear.

This took me years to understand. As I was going through the healing process of my addiction and past abuses, I began to take my desire for true love off the shelf and acknowledge it. Eventually, I even came to embrace the desire for love. Even though in my quest for love, there were quite a few hit and misses, I was so overjoyed at the feeling of even seeking it out, I wouldn’t take back one heart break. Just to even feel heart broken was more than I could have ever asked for at that point in my life. It was there, in those times that I began to take control of my own destiny in a way. I figured I had kept my heart for so long from any man, when I did give it away, he might as well be worthy of it.

In the midst of my grappling, trying to figure out relationship, it happened. Yep, I fell in love for real. It kind of crept up on me. I wasn’t expecting it. I actually just showed up. God did the rest. I spent my whole life getting dolled up to parade around in front of men in hopes that one eligible, slightly-attractive man would choose me. As it turns out, that is never the way to meet Mr. Right.

I know many people have stories about how they met their amazing beau’s. One acquaintance of mine actually regaled to me, me, meaning everyone who would listen, a dream she had in which God told her to break off her pending engagement and marry the man in her dream. Try living up to that! I remember in my deepest most intense prayers, begging God to give me a powerful love story between me and the man I would fall in love with. It was when I actually fell in love that I realized I didn’t need all of that. It was too much for anyone to live up to. Plus, many of my terrible past relationships had started out like the movies. Boys meets girl. Boy finds girl in the rain or some ridiculousness like that. Blah. Blah. Blah. The worst setup for a real relationship that I ever did hear.

 So this girl walks into a bar….joke right? Nope, that was me. It was the night before I was to leave for a vacation with my boyfriend to Key West. I had a lot of packing and last minute things to do before I left, but it was Justyna’s birthday. To her, it was already the end of the world that I would be missing her birthday celebration. I would officially be voted off the island if I did not go to a random hole-in-the-wall bar to get drunk and sing karaoke in honor of another year to her life. And THAT, ladies and gentlemen is where I met him! I didn’t immediately walk over to him and make sweet love or anything. I actually barely spoke with him. That, I remember. The only thing I actually remember is seeing a one-night stand from 2 years before in the bar. Oh, I forgot to mention the total drunkenness and buffoon-like behavior, which consisted of writing, notes to cute guys on bar napkins, singing large amounts of karaoke, and posing in Charlie’s Angels pictures. I’m still not sure how I managed to send the message that I didn’t have a boyfriend.

Little did I know that night would be the beginning of a year-long love affair with love. I could also tell you all of the things I learned about relationships, all of the fears, trials, arguments, hurts, but looking back, I just choose to remember the feeling of waking up happy.

Most of the time in my life, I just wake up. I don’t feel any emotion, at least until I’ve had a cup of coffee. But that year of my life I remember waking up feeling like I would change absolutely nothing about my life. I was happy. I loved and was loved. Who else can say the same?

Wallace Eduardo Monsalve

I took a little hiatus to grieve the loss of my dog, my "loverboy", my "ly ly", Wallace. I called him my "boyfriend" when I didn't have a man in my life. He was the ultimate cuddler. He was never jealous, and not afraid to let me know when he needed me, mostly at night. Just like a man...the perfect little man. When my heart was nothing but a block of ice, he came along and melted it. When I was 21, he came along and awakened a cold, dense, isolated person, me, to a rich and warm place called true selfless love.

First Date speak

Don't ever say, "I'd be a stay at home dad if I could" on a first date.

friends don't let friends date guys who...

1. Who own their own bowling balls
2. Wear shoes with individual toes (called Skeleton shoes, Barefoot sports shoes, etc.)
3. Wear their cell phones on their hip
4. Wear tight Under Armour shirts anywhere...including the gym and especially the ones with collars
5. Have a pair of fake testicles attached to their vehicle
6. Are picky eaters
7. Spend more time getting dressed than you do
8. Brag...about anything other than how hot their girlfriend is
9. Wear pukka shell necklaces
10. Don't want to listen to you talk
11. Have any resemblance to a Jersey Shore character
12. Wear rhinestones on any piece of clothing
13. Have photos of himself shirtless and posing in the mirror
14. Take steroids
15. Abide by a Paleo diet
16. Decorates his house using posters and liquor bottles
17. Are married (yes, even if they're "separated", they are still married)
18. Won't dance with their lady
19. Have a house that looks like it ought to be on an episode of Hoarders
20. Make you pay for anything on a first, second, third, fourth, fifth, or sixth date


This is my list so far. If you have anything to add, please feel free to comment.



...And this is why I'm single

Do you prefer "Jack" or "Ass"?

The hardest part about dating is always the part where you get your heart broken. Unfortunately, without the risk of rejection, it is impossible to find the real thing. Sometimes, I truly wish there was a store you could walk into and they take your measurements, personality test, requirements, and go to the back of the store and bring back the perfect guy. And it's inevitable that you will date, fall in love, get married, have 2.5 kids, and never fight except when you want makeup sex. I mean, we have iPads, iPods, smart phones, and GPS!! Why wouldn't this type of technology be the world's biggest priority? Sigh.


If it's not obvious, I recently dated a guy who broke my heart. I allowed myself to become vulnerable with him. I allowed myself to be subjected to his scrutiny and ridicule for choices I made in my past, and still gave 100% to make things work for us. And the one time I stuck my hand out and asked for something I needed, he walked away.


I'm honestly glad I know now how selfish he really was, but it's still frustrating to give so much and receive so little in return. Maybe, I'm still too emotional to conjure up a coherent post regarding this story, but please, relish in my rambling anyway.


Short version: he refused to go a see a movie in theaters because someone told him it wasn't good. He said he didn't want to spend $20 going to see a movie he was going to hate. So I simply asked, "What if I want to see it?" He said he would "compromise" and spend the $1 to rent it when it came to dvd. This coming from the same man I described as "light in the dark part of my heart." And people say men grow out of their selfish chincy stage as they age. THIS IS ALL LIES!!!


As a result of this disagreement that took place in front of his tattoo artist, he told me to leave the tattoo shop, and subsequently broke up with me.


Recently, we had not spent much time alone except for the night he decided to quiz me rigorously about my dating past. He had pages worth of questions regarding my past relationships, and felt I need to be held accountable for my actions...or something like that. Following that, he would pick fights with me for reasons like the way I spoke to another man, or I interrupted him, etc. Basically, it all boiled down to the fact I didn't behave in all the ways he deemed appropriate, thus, I was voted off of the island.


I come from a family where disagreements are just a way of life. We argue, yell, fight, interrupt, share our opinions, and continue right on loving each other. I realize this way of life is not meant for the faint of heart. But, isn't a relationship defined more in the moments of conflict than in the easy moments? It was only 3 weeks in, but I appreciated the fact that we felt comfortable enough to argue.


This movie disagreement forced him over the edge apparently. I was so hurt, but continued to try to give him hope for us. I wanted to fight for this relationship. Our feelings were strong...and our values were similar... we had a lot of chemistry....he was hot....I'm hot...I kept telling myself all of these things until it dawned on me: He's a selfish motherfucker. A man who would not even go and sit through a movie with you at the movie theatre is pretty much as selfish as it gets. Wow. WHEW!!    G-d was watching my back when he let that fish get away! Once I began analyzing these things from the relationship in my head, I realized so many other things that did not line up with my values or my lifestyle either.


This realization did make it easier to move on, but the impression of being rejected and tossed into the street like trash (an exaggeration, I know), will be one that lasts......at least for a week.




This is why I'm single

Risky Business

How does this stuff happen to me? Seriously, sometimes it feels like I'm living in a comic novel. If this is true, I wonder what the title is? I Accidentally Moved In With A Stripper: The Life of Rachael Chitty or "Get It From the One You're F***ing" and other wisdom from Dad. Probably something like that.


Honest time: I'm (meaning was) currently dating two eligible men. Very cute. Very sweet. Very eligible. When comparing the two, which I'm told one should never do, one was a risk, while the other was a "sure thing". (What kind of investor am I?)


Well, comparing the two is what I was doing when I blew off the more riskier of the two investments to spend time with my "Sure Thing". I told "Risky Business", we will call him, I was too tired to hangout and that I wanted to spend time with my brother. "Sure thing" and I decided to go out with some of his roommates' friends for a quick drink. We sat down at a table full of guys when I look over to hear someone calling my name. Who do I see? "Risky Business" calling my name with a questioning look in tow. My brain immediately turned to mush. What do I say? How should I act? What would either one of them think? Fortunately, I managed a meager wave, hello, and managed to snub "Risky Business" while not showing too much attention to "Sure Thing." "Risky Business" left immediately after the encounter.


I wasn't quite sure how to explain my relationship with "Risky Business" to "Sure Thing." How much do I tell? Mostly, I just sat there with my mouth hanging open completely confounded that this even happened. So I casually mentioned that me and "Risky Business" had a dating relationship. I immediately texted my brother and asked him to come and meet me. He always knows how to make me laugh in those situations. He shows up, and the rest of "Sure Thing's" friends leave. It is me, my brother, and "Sure Thing" sitting at the table. Kind of awkward. My brother and I were commenting on how the situation could not have been more awkward when "Risky Business" approaches and asks to buy me a drink. Shit. How do I get out of this one? I scramble and say, "I already have one." Luckily, I had a sip or two left of my whiskey sour. Again, he urges me, "It's ok. I'll buy you another one." I look over at "Sure Thing" to see his heart beating out of his chest. "Risky Business" is 6'5" and 240lbs. "Sure Thing" is 5'7". "Sure Thing" looks at "Risky Business" and says, "I've got her, bro. I've got her."

Eep!! Luckily, "Risky Business" is not a fighter and backed away extremely confused.


In the end, I felt horribly for even putting the two of them in that situation. I lied, and it caught up with me. I had a lot of apologizing to do after that.

I do think I'm a great catch (if you can catch me), but I'm certainly not worth fighting over. This all goes back to the idea I firmly believe in that most situations will come to a head, or a fork, or something like that, and you will have that moment that you have to make a choice about which road you want to travel down.

Turns out, they were both risky business, but I was the riskiest business of all.

This is why I'm single.

Brazilian bust

A few weeks ago, I went on a pretty bad date. Clearly, I'm still pissed about it. This guy was orignally from Brazil and lived 2 and 1/2 hours north from me while finishing up his PhD in some kind of animal science studies. I had never been there, and somehow thought it was only 1 and 1/2 hours north. It was around 6pm when I finally showed up.

Before getting there, he told me the plan was for us to take a walk, then do something about dinner, and go to a country line dancing bar afterwards. So, of course, I showed up dressed to go out. What? I can walk in heels. Little did I know, by 'walking', he meant 'hiking'. He was clearly disappointed that I showed up looking like a million bucks, sans hiking boots. (Only in Colorado)

So we went on a walk around his neighborhood with some flip flops borrowed from his roommate. We had pretty good conversation about politics and funny dates we had been on. When we arrived back at his house, I thought we were going to have dinner of sorts because it was like...dinner time. No. No dinner. He didn't even mention dinner. We just got ready to go out and stood around watching his roommates eat dinner.

In between all of this he was trying to kiss me. When I was clearly freaked out by his forwardness, his excuse was that he was Brazilian. This, in my opinion, was not a reasonable excuse for anything except for an accent.

We went to the country line dancing bar where he immediately surrounded himself with a circle of (ugly) women. He was standing with his back completely towards me like I wasn't even there. He didn't introduce me. He didn't even acknowledge me for at least 15 minutes or more. Needless to say, I was visibly annoyed. I had more conversation with his (hot) roommates than him the whole night. They thought the guy was crazy. He eventually noticed that I wasn't having a good time. At that moment is when he chooses to say, "Hey, there are 2 or 3 girls who want me to dance with them. Is that ok with you?"

After the night was over, he tried to get me to sleep over. I made it clear I would be driving home that evening. Before I left he said, "I had a great time tonight, but I won't be back until October, so I will call you then." At that point, I had pretty much had it with this guy. I finally called him out and asked why he would go out on a date with someone when he was going to be gone for 5 months.

This was the part that KILLED me. He started acting like I was a psycho. I believe the patented phrase is "on his nuts." "It's not like you're my girlfriend. I have to travel for work. You have to deal with that. I'm not looking to get married tomorrow." And on and on. What the hell? Why is that at the moment a woman holds a man accountable for anything, she's a psycho? Men somehow know that is the worst thing you could call a girl. Forget "bitch" "whore" and other names, psycho is the one word that supersedes any other name. Luckily, this time I didn't fall for it. I grabbed my stuff and left.

I can say this, never again will I drive any lengthy distance for a man who is not my father, brother, boyfriend, husband, or son, or any variation thereof. I also won't date another Brazilian in wranglers and a cowboy hat.

This is why I'm single!