30 Bucks... Not Well Spent

It’s been a while since my 7-day trial on Yahoo Personals ended (see the post about it here). Behold one of my favorite messages:


<>I just paid 30 bucks to talk to you! <> lol Seriously, my account with this site cancellled the other day but Ive been able to just look at profiles since. Your profile caught my eye and thought that I might give it one more try. <> <> <> <>I think you and I may have alot in common and I was hoping I could have an opportunity to get to know you. I know, I know your wondering what we might have in common.....well slow down give me time to type. Lets seeee....hmmm... well were both Christians, I have a job and so do you, we both live in Fort Worth, were both ok with our money, ummm... you write funny blogs, I like to read funny blogs. I have a magnolia tree in my front yard but to be honest I cant stand it becuase it didnt bloom and all it does is shed its leaves. I love my job (I work as a purchasing agent for steel) but it stressfull at times and enjoy the peeps I work with as well.<> <> <> <>If you havent noticed yet Im a bit of a goofball, I like to have fun in whatever I do. I have some great friends and we hang out often having bbqs or road trips to the river or where ever suites our fancy. I think I spelled suites wrong, oh well hope you're not a grammer nut if so I apologize for that last statment as well. ha! Anywho if you think I might fit the bill of someone youd like to get to know then I'd like to hear back from ya. Have a great day Dana!! Im out!! <> <> <> <>Dueces!!<><>


Yes, this is a real message from a real Yahoo Personals guy. Let’s break it down.

Is he trying to make me feel obligated to talk to him because he just paid 30 bucks? All this did for me was make me feel obligated to read the message. Nothing more than that so far.

So he’s telling me to slow down so he can have time to type. Okay, no problem, considering I’m not standing over him like Mrs. Vaughn in Stephenville High School typing class, watching his every move. How about he stops pretending I am responding to him in real time? That’s a little creepy.

Christian. Okay, check.

Has a job. Okay, check.

Lives in Fort Worth. Okay, check.

Okay on money. Okay, that’s nice. But where did he get that I am okay on my money? I don’t have a thing about money in my profile… assuming things. And you know that only makes an ass out of him and him.

Likes to read funny blogs. Okay, check. (as if I would just hand my blog address out to any Tom, Dick and Harry… again, assuming here)

Has a magnolia tree but hates it. Okay, that’s… interesting. I guess.

He enjoys the “peeps” he works with. Okay, so he knows ebonics…

He’s a goofball who likes hanging out with his friends. Okay, goofball is okay. But I have a feeling that we are creeping into Jon Gosselin immaturity territory.

He hopes I’m not a grammar nut. Well. The fact that his note to me contains 7 misspelled words and he doesn’t know how to use an apostrophe is enough to make this self-proclaimed grammar nazi very unhappy.

Did he really just say "Anywho" ?

He ends notes with “Deuces”. I can already tell that Bama wouldn't like this guy.

And what’s with all the <> stuff? I guess he’s artistic? Who knows.

So I know I’m ripping this guy apart, but seriously. If this is all you have for a first impression because it’s online and not face to face, then you need to send something a little more intelligent than this.

Sorry, buddy, you wasted your 30 bucks. Hopefully this note worked on somebody else.

Enough, this is not dating. I want moonlight and flowers and candy and people trying to kiss me. Nobody is trying to kiss me! Nobody is even looking my direction. Do you have any idea how much effort it takes to do all this? I’m shaved and plucked and I iron my clothes! No more of this until one of you men figures how to put on a date! I want heat, I want romance, damn it! I want to feel like a lady!

And I don’t want to be told I’m too hot or too sexy to be a serious girlfriend. That’s a load of crap. (Yes, I was told that recently)

Thank God that 7-day Yahoo Personals trial is over. Now I can resume my normal dating life that consists of tons of first dates, a tiny bit of second dates and sometimes, every once in a blue moon, a meaningful relationship.

Soul Mate vs. Sole Mate

I was honored to be invited to eat Easter supper with a very sweet couple and their family. I enjoyed every second of it, from the meal to the impromptu basketball. Everyone is so nice and down to Earth. And funny… you have no idea! I had never before met their other two “kids” (I use that term loosely because we are far from being kids) and I just adore them. What a great bunch of folks.

Every time I am with this couple, I can see very clearly that they are soul mates. You can see it when they look at each other. Same with my mom and stepdad (who is more of a dad than my dad, so we’ll call him my “dad”). Obviously they are meant to be together.

So that evening, after I got home, I sat on my patio and got to thinking about soul mates. Two small words, one huge concept.

So is there always such a thing? Or are some people just lucky enough to find this elusive soul mate? Is there really just one person out there who holds the key to your heart, your dream house, your dream life? No man defines who you are. This I cannot emphasize enough. But can that one man define everything else about your life, including your happiness?

I don’t know the answer. I guess I just have to have faith. At the end of the day faith is a funny thing. It turns up when you don't really expect it. It's like one day you realize that the fairy tale may be slightly different than you dreamed. The castle, well, it may not be a castle. It may be my 1,090 square foot “cottage” that needs to be repainted. The two perfect children and a perfect white picket fence… well, I do have two perfect pets and a wooden picket fence that is not painted white but it’s perfect just the way it is.

I looked around and realized that I am right where I need to be. I have everything I could possibly need. Of course it’s easy to want more. But when it comes down to it, if that soul mate ever shows up (if such a thing even exists), it would just be icing on the cake that is my life.

Keelsapalooza XXIX

I just got in today from an amazing weekend of celebrating two beautiful girls’ 29th birthdays at Horseshoe Bay. The lake, not the casino. Can I just say that the KGarza and KBliss know how to throw a party? We had swag bags full of goodies, such as a custom-made tank top (with the official Keelsapalooza XXIX logo), cups with our names on them, shot glasses, leis… amazing.

After nearly falling asleep approximately four times on the way down early Saturday morning (I had a jazz gig on Friday night), Bama and I arrived at the lake in all our sleep-deprived, somebody-pour-us-a-mimosa glory. We ate some food and then jumped into our swimsuits. Sidenote: April is a bit early for busting out the swim suit and the flippy floppies (in my case, due to the softness of my abs), but everyone seemed to be in good spirits about the whole situation.

KBliss and I did the customary ritual of lathering on as much sunscreen as possible and then laying out (see, Dr. Stacy? I was listening when you talked about sun damage!). It was a balmy 75-80 degrees (perfect for sitting on the deck, not so perfect for getting on a boat with T-Pain… so we sat and soaked up sun). We drank homemade pina coladas and talked and drank bellinis and laughed and drank beer. A few of us went down to the water and floated on multi-person rafts. The water felt amazing when you dipped your foot into it.

LiWi and I decided to try our luck at the jet ski. We were enjoying a leisurely stroll around the lake (and managed to stay within the one rule, which was don’t go past the lighthouse… got it). I had a thought come to me and blurted out, “What would we do if this thing died out here?” To which LiWi replied, “Umm… Dana we aren’t going to die out here.” After clarifying that I meant the jet ski dying, we decided that we have no idea what we would do. In fact LiWi took it one step further and said “I’m not swimming.” Word. Me neither. Right around that time, the thing starts beeping at us and the warning light is flashing. Seriously, Poseidon?? You’re gonna do this to us right now? What did we do to piss you and your water off? Needless to say, my novice skills managed to speed us back to the house and we were simply running low on gas. KGarza informed me that it was much like the light that comes on when you are running low on gas. Okay, not so scary. But I may have peed my pants a little bit when that light flashed and we were really far away from the house.

I came in and Bama and I fell asleep on the couch for a little bit. That jet ski excitement pretty much took it out of me. KBliss went upstairs to take a shower and came down in a towel a few minutes later, asking for some help turning off the shower… then KGarza tried to turn it off and the faucet exploded. Luckily the plumber showed up and fixed it. But not without our resident engineer peering over his shoulder the entire time (thanks for keeping him honest KBliss).

Minutes without water: 45
Plumber named “Tanker” $201.00
Having running water in a house where 12 girls are staying: Priceless.

I feel that I need to clarify a previous statement that I made about Tanker. He was a “6” on a scale of plumbers in Horseshoe Bay, Texas. He was a “3” compared to the rest of the male population. The “6” rating was on a curve.

Crisis averted. Time for fajitas. Being a semi-vegetarian, my fajita consisted of refried beans and guacamole, but it was delicious. Then we ate a homemade red velvet cake that was beautiful and oh-so scrumptious. Thank you Tiff!

After cutting the cake, we heard fireworks outside and were in a prime spot to watch one of the most amazing fireworks shows any of us had ever seen! What are the chances? We claimed it as our own show specifically for Keelsapalooza and no one has disputed that yet. Absolutely amazing.

My tired butt called it a night after 3 rounds of Scatergories (good job, KGarza, the reigning champion) and I was out by 11:30.

Early morning, good breakfast by KBliss and 3 and half hours home.

Great weekend.

The Bridges of Tarrant County

Today I got to thinking the past and the proverbial “one that got away.”

I know several people who still think about the “one that got away” and it makes me hope I’m not in that position years from now. I don’t have a “one that got away” in the technical sense. It’s more the “one that could have been so amazing.”

We met in an airport terminal during a ridiculously long layover. We clicked, and then we went out for drinks after returning home from our respective trips. We were having one of those great first dates that you can only have when it’s not an actual date. And then I flaked out and decided to give my wayward boyfriend another shot. I promptly deleted Airport Guy’s phone number and gave my relationship 100%. I didn't think I would ever see him again, and that made me a little sad. He sure was cute. And he made me laugh.

A year later, I had been single for a while (wayward boyfriend didn’t last after all) and I couldn’t get Airport Guy out of my head. There was just something about him that was so comfortable. I remembered his phone number in my head (I’m weird like that) and dialed him. He met me that day and so began a really great summer. We never endured the DTR (Define the Relationship discussion) but I was okay with that. I just enjoyed being with him. We were good together. We watched a lot of Jeopardy and hit Mellow Mushroom on Tuesday nights to dominate their trivia game. But the summer ended and he disappeared without a word. I am not a person who gets mad, but I was disappointed. I really liked him and I think he liked me too. I held out hope for a while that he would come back but realized that he must have needed to be alone. I still think about him often and wonder how he’s doing. And sometimes I’ll text a “hello” to him. I don’t think he knows how much of an impression he made on me.

Maybe one day I’ll meet someone who makes me not want to call Airport Guy during weak moments. Or maybe this is going to be like the 'Bridges of Tarrant County', a very brief affair I'll write about in sappy letters to my grandchildren. Either way, it sure was a great summer and I smile when I think about it.

To Take It Personally or Not To Take It Personally? That Is The Question.

So many things happen in life that we could very easily take personally. But if we are mature emotionally, we know not to do this. It only hurts us - when almost all of the time, it doesn’t have anything to do with us.

Say my boss is not in the best mood. Take it personally?
Nope. I have those days too.

Maybe friends or family have to rush off the phone because they are in the middle of something and can’t chat. Take it personally?
Nah. I do that too sometimes.

Relationships. Take those situations personally?
Well, that’s a little more difficult.

I have been on the giving and the receiving end of ending relationships (and not just romantic ones), many times over the last 13 years. None of them are the ideal position. When you are the one giving, it’s awkward and painful and you feel like you are really hurting someone, when that truly isn’t your intention. And the receiving end is awful as well. You feel like you aren’t good enough for that person (which is crazy, because let’s face it – we’re amazing, right??), or maybe that they are just not giving it a fair chance.

Then again, sometimes it is a relief. Sometimes it works out for the better. Some folks just aren’t meant to be. And that’s easy to live with when you are sure that you have the right answer. So much of that just goes back to trusting God.

But how do you not take it personally when you are on the receiving end? Isn’t it a highly personal idea that someone does not want to be with you? But taking it personally doesn’t do anyone any good. Sometimes I feel so clueless. Do you think it could really be as simple as “my father walked out, therefore I'll always be messed up about men”? Some girls’ fathers came home every night at seven on the dot and they have no clue about men either.

That’s the thing about getting your feelings hurt. You just have to ride it out, hope it goes away on its own, hope the wound that caused it heals. There are no solutions, no easy answers, you just breathe deep and wait for it to subside. Most of the time it can be managed but sometimes it gets you where you least expect it. Hits way below the belt and doesn't let up. You just have to fight through, because the truth is you can't outrun it and life always makes more.

Sorry, just don’t have the funny in me today. Feeling reflective instead.

Have a wonderful Easter. Remember the reason for this weekend and say a prayer of thanks for Jesus Christ and his sacrifice for us. Sure makes my problems seems small, when I think about what he went through for us.

Male Celebrities That I Want To Slap Upside The Head: (Top Five)

1. Jesse James. Isn't it enough that he is named after an outlaw (who he is actually related to)? This motorcycle czar has screwed up big time. I can see why an idiot like Jesse would dig a chick like Michelle "Bombed-Out" McGee - if her conversation gets boring, he can catch up on his reading by simply perusing her tattoos, including the one stamped on her forehead that reads "Pray For Us Sinners." And another thing... Sandra Bullock is not a victim of the "Oscar Curse" that apparently plagued Halle Berry and Sean Penn, among others (apparently, once you win, your marriage goes in the dumps). I think she's more a victim of the "I Married a Dumbass Who Cheated On Me With A Very Low-Class Woman And I Will Never Sleep With Him Again Because I'm 100% Sure He Now Has The Clap Curse."

2. Jon Gosselin. Jon topped my list until Jesse James came out with his antics last week. This Ed Hardy-wearing, super-reproductive guy just needs to go away. And by away, I mean into space. Or maybe the middle of the Sahara desert. I know Kate was a lot to deal with, but you would be too if you popped out 18 children and had to constantly pull your husband away from his Ed Hardy Ebay Habit. And really, stealing $175,000 from the woman raising your children is worse than skipping out on a few months of child support. You know things are bad when the designer of the douchiest clothing line in America drops you and hires Lindsay Lohan instead. True story, look it up.

3. Tiger Woods. No one in their right mind would cheat on their wife. Tiger took it one step further, however, and cheated on his beautiful Swedish swimsuit model (and mother of his two children) with over 10 girls, none of which are of Elin's caliber. I have said so much about this over the last few months, I simply don't have anything more in me. Suffice to say, I would very much like to slap him upside the head. At least Elin is wearing a "chastity belt made of iron" (her words), because let's face it. He just might have something she doesn't want for Christmas. And I'm not talking about a gaudy piece of jewelry.

4. Spencer Pratt. He's going off the deep end. Now that he is public with his love for crystals, he wants to learn how to meditate. I'm on board with this. Maybe he will focus on his career post-Hills. Or maybe he will focus on how to deal with his wife's new weird body. Or maybe he'll finally make the important decision he was struggling with last season - to vasectomy or not to vasectomy? Can we petition this? Take it to Congress? Please don't let these two procreate.

5. Chris Brown. Let's face it. Anyone who beats up on a girl deserves more than a slap upside the head. But he took it one step further recently, by attending Jean Paul Gaultier's show, which featured models covered in fake blood and bruises. He was cheesing it up in a picture next to the designer, who was also sporting this look. If I were a celebrity rapper who beat up my girlfriend and was trying to clean up my image, I would not be all smiles next to a designer covered in fake blood and bruises. He needs to consult with Charlie Sheen on this one. He's an expert on beating up the ladies in his life and coming out smelling like roses on the other side.

The Ron Burgundy of the Dating World

I’m at that point where I feel like enough time has passed since The Breakup that I can start dating again. You have to allow enough time to pass that you aren’t unfair to the next guy. Especially when The Breakup was a painful one. So, here we go.

After two failed setups (one completely flaked out and the other felt “no spark”, which I will agree with), I noticed that I am at a standstill. And standstill means two things: (1) I am not going out and enjoying the dating world, and (2) I have no material for this blog!

So. I need material.

So. I joined Yahoo Personals.

I don’t know how this works, so I try to paint a picture of who I am by copying and pasting my oh-so-clever facebook “About Me” section. I have to answer every question under the sun, from my drinking habits (I clicked “weekly”… is that bad?) to my religion to my desire to have kids, to whether I live alone or with roommates. I could feel sweat under my arms. I suddenly remembered the feeling in high school when your parents ask you a question that you don’t really want to answer, like “what happened to the car?”

And now it’s picture time. Geez… really? I have a ton of great pictures where I look real good, but they are old and 4 hair colors ago. I settled on one from last September where I am actually wearing lipstick.

I selected the box that said “Notify me of updates every three days”. 30 minutes pass. I can’t stand it. I logged in, hoping that maybe some people have taken a likin’ to me and found that 87 men had viewed my profile and I had 17 new messages. Whaaaat?

Some guys are cute, some are scary and this one guy sent me this:

“Oh, and one more thing: I want to say something. I'm going to put it out there; if you like it, you can take it, if you don't, send it right back. I want to be on you. And if you find the humor in that, we'll get a long just fine.”

My eyes got big, I closed the World Wide Web Internet and backed away from the computer. Seriously?? That’s your opening line??

Later that day I was conversing with We Go Way Back Guy (who is very cute and datable, ladies...) about this and he let me in on a little secret. This is a line from Anchorman: The Legend of Ron Burgundy. Really? I have seen the cinematic greatness. Don’t remember the line. Am still creeped out.

More stories to come as I weed through this enormous stack of messages from potential suitors.