Posts Tagged ‘Deadly Dating Patterns’

Breaking Free

     I mentioned before about Deadly Dating Patterns.  I have reached a point in the book where it assists you on how to break free of those patterns.  And let me say, it could not have come at a better time. After a long string of bad dates, I’m ready to throw in the towel and hibernate.  For fear that Dr. D will jump from the pages and slap me silly if I do, I decided to soldier on.

     I fall into the Hermit and Just Buddies Deadly Dating Patterns.  The reasons Dr. D gives for being a Hermit don’t really apply to me all that well.  I’m not extremely shy or recovering from a divorce or bad relationship.  Simply put, I just like vegging.  Now, vegging is not so beneficial in meeting men.  She recommends that we enroll in some kind of class or group activity to get us out of our shell, so-to-speak.  I signed up for an introduction to guitar class.

     Yesterday was our first class.  I figured in a class of twenty to twenty-five people there were bound to be some men in there.  As it turned out, I guessed right.  Downside, once you factor out all the old married beer bellies that leaves just three guys.

1) Head-of-the-Class – He took a seat front and center and sat at full attention for the two-hour span we were there.

2) Anorexic Asian – He makes the normal skinny Asian look beefy.

3) Dusty – Dude bought his guitar five years ago and then stuck it in a closet.

     After weighing my options, I have got my eye on Dusty with his metallic red guitar.  With a guitar that snazzy, I’m hoping his personality has some pizzazz to match.  He may be a bit young for me but I’m 99% sure he is legal so all is good.

     My Just Buddies Deadly Dating Pattern comes in handy at first because I have no trouble talking to guys.  But to break from this pattern I have got to make sure I wear make-up to class and try not to dress like I’m ready to join a pick-up soccer game.  

     How graceful do you think I would look playing guitar in a sundress?  Yeah, I’m not so sure about that either.  Thankfully I have until next Saturday to figure out wardrobe options. 

Private Dick

     Monday I had a very romantic outing planned at Starbuck’s with my date the private investigator, we’ll call him Private Dick.

     Since I am now following the tutelage of Dr. D, I made sure I broke myself from myJust Buddies deadly dating pattern and put more effort into my appearance for the date.  The legs were already shaved so I figured, what the heck, I’ll wear a dress.  Make-up, actually took more than two minutes, and I even brushed my teeth.  I usually do the latter out of courtesy anyway.  The only issue I was having were the very vocalized digestive noises coming from my stomach.  They had been bothering me all day but I thought they would have stopped by then.

     I hopped in my car, shut the door and then more noises from the great beyond, sounded like Chewbacca was gearing up for a throw-down.  Afraid I would be too late for my date if I ran back upstairs, and didn’t want to attempt to explain why I was late, I took off and prayed the whole way.

     When I arrived, after driving like a bat-out-of-Hell, I realized I had about ten minutes to spare.  Spotted a drugstore, parked, and ran in.  Tried to make it look like I was going to buy something rather than just use them for their toilet, but at that point, who cared?  Sure as hell not me.

     Go in, line the toilet seat and sitdown.  Then, all of the sudden, I was grasping at air to save my life when the broken toilet seat starts flying out from under me.  Fortunately I’m in the handicap stall and manage to get hold of the rail before I find myself in a head-meets-tile situation.  I am now holding on for dear life, trying to check the time, and praying there’s toilet paper.

     As I’m washing my hands, my phone rings.  Fiddle-sticks, am I really late?  Walk towards the front of the store and realize I’m not and that he was just calling to tell me he is here.  Before I get too close, I catch a glimpse of myself in a car window reflection.  Damn, I’m good.  No toilet paper on my shoe, hair still intact, lip gloss still shining.  Had a little bra popping out of my dress, which I can only assume was a result of my dance with the handicap rail, and I thought a little bra action wasn’t going to hurt me.

     Private Dick stepped out of his inconspicuous dark green Hummer with “K-9” printed in yellow on the sides.  Walked up and he gave the one-arm-I-don’t-know-you-well half-hug and damn if the boy didn’t smell good.  Go in, order green tea.  He accuses me of being healthy, and then orders the same thing.  Flips through a few fifties to get to the $20 he paid with.  Man, I’m outta my league. 

     We look for a place to sit.  Both inside and outside are full.  He said let’s go outside, and walked down the walk-way and then stopped at the end.  Nice, date next to a dumpster.  Classy.  Maybe I’m out of his league.

     We are chatting and I notice his neck Tourettes.  He was watching EVERYONE.  Delivery man, Starbuck’s employees on break, teenage boys parking their car, a group of young women (according to him, badly dressed), and a man putting gas in his Corolla.  Yes, he even made note of the exact car from 100 yards away.  At this point I was thinking I must be a decoy on his stake out.  No one went unseen except maybe me.  I’m sure by the end of the date he didn’t even know what I looked like.

     He talked, I listened.  I talked, he, well, who know’s.  I learned that he’s very opinionated.  He’s European, but hate’s living in Europe, something about no room to park his Hummer.  The women from Eastern Europe are the most beautiful in the world.  Dude, your standing next to an American with Western European heritage, so thanks for that.  Mexicans are apparently all ugly and unfortunately breed too much so we are being overtaken by “the ugly.” 

     At one point he actually answered his phone mid sentence.

Private Dick: Hey, can I call you back in five minutes?

Me: (thinking) Well, guess we’ll be finishing up in five minutes then.

     Then I got this flattering conversation:

Private Dick: I took my profile down because all the women are nothing.  They’re crap.

Me: Uh, thanks.

Private Dick: (quickly) No, not you.

Me: Ah, yeah.

     Needless to say the date ended soon after that.  This time I got a two-arm-I-don’t-know-you-well hug.  What can I say, he did smell really good so I took it.  Then I got an over the shoulder, “Hey, call me sometime.”

     Yeah, dude, that’ll happen.   



Guy’s Dating Destruction

     Okay boys, your turn.  Dr. D gave women thirteen Deadly Dating Patterns, but guys . . . you have sixteen that you could fit into.  Here’s my take on them:

1)  SHY GUY – This wall isn’t going to stand up on its own.

2)  GEEK – What do you mean Magic: The Gathering isn’t an aphrodisiac?


4)  THE COWARD – AAH!  What’s that!?  Oh, it’s just my shadow.  I’m okay, I’m okay.

5)  BURNT TOAST – AKA – Baggage.  And wears it like a badge.

6)  THE PETER PAN – Hi, I’m 40.  Mom does my laundry.  When she goes to buy groceries, I sneak down into the basement and get high.

7)  THE NEW AGER – A player in hippie format.

8)  THE TROPHY SEEKER – Here’s a Coach bag, an Armani dress, and a Tiffany’s necklace.  Now, please stand here, shut up, and smile.

9)  THE COMMITMENT PHOBE – A ball and chain is for criminals.  I’ve done no wrong, don’t fence me in.  Augh, I can’t breathe – open a window – your love is killing me.  How dare you.

10)  THE GRASS IS GREENER – A petite red-head just made eyes at me.  But wait, the blonde model is coming this way.  Hey, did you see the feisty brunette around the corner?  I’m going to get a closer look.

11)  THE FLAME OUT – Is “I love you” wrong to say on the first date?

12)  THE SLACKER – I am so busy.  Doing nothing takes up a lot of time.

13)  NOT PERFECT-I’LL PASS – Sadly I have a personal story for this one.  Amazing right?  Someone thought I wasn’t perfect.  As ADD said to me once:

     ADD: You’re awesome, like no one I’ve ever met.  I recently found out I have ADD.  Do you have anything?

     ME: Huh?

     ADD: Any mental disease or illness?  I love those.

     ME: No.

     ADD: Ah.  People’s mental imperfections really turn me on.  Too bad.

14)  THE ALCOHOLIC – ’nuff said.

15)  THE PLAYER –  In the words of George Michael, “I Want Your Sex.”

16)  THE PRICK – Hi.  I’m God.

      Men, are you aware of any of these habits?  Ladies, which of these have you stumbled upon?

Dating. . .Destruction?

     According to Dr. D, there are thirteen Deadly Dating Patterns that women could fall into.  I fell into two of them.  And I feel they are two of the “normal” ones.  If you fall into some of the others, . . . lay off the crazy juice.  She gives great examples and, of course, a more doctor-y feel, but this is how I interpreted them:

1)  FLAME OUT – This is the best relationship I’ve ever had, an amazing three hours.  I’d like a princess cut in a platinum setting, please.

2)  THE FANTASY RELATIONSHIP – Just because Shemar Moore doesn’t know me, doesn’t mean anything.  We are perfect together and will have perfect babies.

3)  CRUMBS – He said he is going to leave his wife.  And this is the 627th time he has promised, so I know he’s really going to do it now. 

4)  HERMIT – Peek-a-boo

     This is a semi-fit for me.  Although I’m not shy, let’s face it, after a long day of work some people just irk me.  At that point, I’d rather not share breathing space with them.

5)  I’LL MAKE YOU LOVE ME – You’ve got all the right stuff.  So, you’re not interested, no problem.  Allow me to introduce myself, “Hello, I’m Wonderwoman.”

6)  ABUSE RECYCLE – SMACK – POW – rinse – repeat

     In all honestly, my heart goes out to these women.

7)  THE SAFETY NET – Such a loyal pup.  If I leave out food, you will come back too.

8)  NOT PERFECT, I’LL PASS – You know, that third nipple doesn’t really fly with me.

9)  CHASE ME – I like you.  No, I don’t.  I do, but I’m not telling.  Let me push you away.  Okay, come back.

10)  FADE AWAY – I like you so much but I don’t want to bore you; so I’m going to sit like a stone and not talk.

11)  JEALOUSY TRAP – Oh yeah, you love me?  Well then, please stop talking to all other women forever.  Don’t look at them, eyes on the road.  Wait for the male bank teller to become available.  And if you could cut off ties with your mother, that’d really help my ego.

12)  JUST BUDDIES – Look at that hottie over there.  Sure, I’ll go put in a good word for you.  By the way, I have boobs too, but they don’t make it to the parade very often.

     Clear as a bell when I read this one.  I knew it was me just from the title.  Tomboys-R-Us.  Having worked in many male-dominate jobs, I have become exceptional at blending in so I would be treated more equally.  As a result, talking to guys is not an issue.  However, flirting is a foreign language.

13)  THE GRASS IS GREENER – Ooo, look a blonde one.  Oh, a blonde with muscles.  Whoa, brown wavy hair and muscles.  Wait.  What’s around that corner?

     Well, there you have it ladies.  Where do you fit in?

     Oh, and guys . . . don’t think you are getting off the hook so easily.  I’ll have your Deadly Dating Patterns next week.

Loveless Eulogy

     Throughout this self-help book, Dr. Diana forces us to do Inner Work and Outer Work.  The Outer Work comes in the form of our “homework” and is meant to be done out in the real world; i.e. saying hello and joining groups with men in them.   The Inner Work comes in the form of “exercises” and is meant to be done as you read.  And probably not meant to be shared via blog, but where’s the fun in that?

     I just finished up my second week of the program, which means I just completed the second chapter of the book.  This chapter helps us figure out our Deadly Dating Patterns (more on those later this week) and “self-sabotaging” ways.  I was flabbergasted at the fact that she uses the term “self-sabotaging” three times within two pages.  Ladies, come on, how much are you attacking yourselves? 

     Having spotted my Deadly Dating Patterns, I moved onto the exercises.  If I don’t change my ways and make room for love, this may be what the future holds for me.

Chapter 2 Exercise #3  The Loveless Eulogy

Zia took the bull by the horns in all areas of life – except love.  Love was a foreign substance to her.  She never experienced, felt, or knew what it was.  Without love in her life she found the time to knit her entire wardrobe, inherited seven cats, and with all the working out, had buns of steel into her late nineties.  Once Zia hit 100, she set a new goal of achieving supercentenarian status.  She took up croquet in her early 100s and enjoyed her time with the youngsters at the nursing home.  She passed away in her lonely bed at the age of 114 and was greeted in heaven by her many feline friends.

Mmm…sounds exciting.